1 <br /> <br />The words are suicide <br />In the magic of the days <br />Here, some words are missing <br />We can see mendacity on the roofs <br />We can light a candle <br />Cheers for the sound of a baton <br /> <br />2 <br /> <br />What an aggrieved morning! <br />When the Allah sound of each pray <br />Becomes the lumbar on each passenger’s throat <br />What a hard salute! <br />When the prostration of each alley <br />Becomes the ablution of its land’s murders <br />The prisons have the colors of fables <br />And the terms are colorless in the <br />Silence of the days. <br /> <br />3 <br /> <br />So many suns <br />And the night is a fond of star’s darkness! <br />So where the homeless martyrs <br />Who are crying for our freedom songs <br />The night is not so long, <br />And the bum is not silent <br /> <br /> <br />4 <br /> <br />I sell my grave to a mother who <br /> Is in the excess of loneliness <br />So smooths her throat <br />With a sound of old gravedigger <br />And say: 'My child! <br /> We should call to prayer <br />This city would never wake up'<br /><br />azadeh Davachi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-mourning-of-freedom-dedicated-to-the-poeple-of-iran/
