I PROBABLY LOVE THESE THREE FAVOURITE COUNTRIES FOR SIMILAR REASON
THEIR CITIZENS LACK FREEDOM
I have lived in Cuba, have visited Burma/Birmanie/Birmania/Myanmar numerous times (I have even been given a Burmese name, U Aung Kant) and have been obsessively in love with Iran since I was 6 years old and the flame lit again in 2012
All three countries possess odible power-hungry men at the helm, one in the name of God (I am sure she would not like it ! Haha), another in the name of human enlightenment of Marx and Engels and the third one in the name of sheer hunger for power and domination .
You have freedom, I am repeatedly told. This freedom is not lightly interpreted, it is not the freedom to shop at different supermarkets nor the freedom to go to the airport and catch a flight nor the freedom to sleep with the woman you love, without obstruction from family or religious police.
All my friends who live in these three countries, understand the concept of FREEDOM. I can pursue the dream (s) in my head without the headache of Visa, financial aid, IELTS.. all I need is the staunch desire in my heart.
While at least one of the above countries, their leaders at least, is bent on destroying my people, my love and respect for the educated class and especially the women of that country is at an all-time high. I can only say I love You, a concept which is global and holistic in the context of my freedom and your lack of freedom
Winter [Is Here]
No “hello” is reciprocated, chins are upon the chests1
No one dares heading up to greet and meet friends
Hard to see where next steps fall
As the road is dark, slippery
Hands are buried deep down the pockets
Not happy to come out and shake
Your friendly hand stretched toward them
Frost bites so hard
Frost turns warm chest’s breath into a dark cloud
Walls the eyes
When the breath is so [treacherous]
What do you expect of friends and acquaintances?!!
O my gallant messiah, my soiled-cloth old clergy
So treacherous is the frost … Ah!
Be the one who replies my hello, open the door
It’s me, guest of each and every night, the sad-faced gypsy
The kicked-out, hurting rock
The cheap cuss of genesis, the misfit tune
Neither silver white, nor jet black, the very deeply void of color
Come on, open the door, My heart is so heavy
O feast buddy! O host! The visitor of many months and years shivers at your door!
It is neither hailstorm not death
Should you hear a sound, it is [my] teeth talking to the frost!
I'm here tonight, to pay my debt
Right next to the [wine’s] cup
Stop telling “too late, already dawn, sun rose!”
Sky lies! This is not the red sky after dawn!
O feast buddy! It's my frost-bitten ear,red from the winter's frosty slap
And the icicle of sky, dead or alive
Is hidden in the thick multi-ply casket of darkness
O feast buddy! Light up the party with wine! Day or night!
No “hello” is reciprocated,
Gloomy is the air, chins are upon chests, hands buried in pockets
Breathes become cloud, hearts are weary and heavy
Trees are skeletons cut by thousand daggers of ice crystals
Earth, dead in heart, heaven dome, lying low
Dust soils moon and sun
Winter is here!
- 1.
This famous poem was written after 1953 Iranian coup d'รฉtat that overthrew democratically elected Prime Minister Mohammad Mosaddegh in favour of strengthening the monarchical rule of the Shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi on 19 August 1953. Many intellectual and rebels were prosecuted and executed after the coup.
๐น๐ฐ๐ท ๐จ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ , ๐๐, ๐พ๐๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐ถ๐๐ ๐๐, ๐๐๐๐, ๐ญ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐จ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐จ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐ ๐ฐ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ด๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ท๐๐๐๐๐
