Vida Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Vida

Came in call
-unknown was the caller
-but soon turned to friend…

He knew my name and
-asked me of my in-law
-sister's wife…

I listened
- "Can save her before…"

She had been hit in head
-by the mobs and with chain
-or stick, whatever…

Did not know that she too
-had been there, same place
-where we sat and listened
-to lectures, speeches…
-only to celebrate
-a teacher's birth or death…

Ali Shariati
-right or wrong -doubtlessly has done lot
-in the line of Islam!

He is worth knowing of
-we were there to respect
-and add to our knowledge.

Slowly crawled in the mobs who
-were dumb and supported government
-had huge motor bikes; forbidden for others.

They made noise
-roared engines of their bikes
-as is seen in movies
- (Peter Fonda and friends…)
-wilderness came, rushed in
-the deserts and forests...

So, we ran, stampede had victims
-stepped on, and beaten like the dogs
-among them had been the little Vida
- (Sister of my ex-wife.)

Shamloo was ex-sergeant
-I, sort of officer
-indirect connection
-he, Navy, me Air Force.

He knew the outcome:
- "Have order to report dead,
-wounded and injured…"

Then whispered:
-will take and bury them
-with dozers, mass-graves.

No marking with no name
-and no cause and no date…

I had seen example
-Spring of the year
-Nineteen and Sixty-Three.

Shamefully
-Iran is full of such
-regardless of the time
-and sort of government.

I lifted that soft girl
-promised to call and
-talk of her progress.

"Tell me if she vomits…"

Now, I write this reminder
-of the things remembered
-which is cause of exile
-and to thank the sergeant
-who risked life of himself
-for Vida, to be saved.