Short Story: “Dance of Flames” written by Soroonaaz Sistani.

It was raining so hard that it seemed like someone had drawn a knife across the biggest cloud in the sky. My mother sat in the middle of the room and put my brother next to the heater to open his shirt. I was sitting in the corner of the room, doing my homework and looking at her from under my eyes. She put her hand on the knot of his shirt and looked at the flower on the carpet, saying under her breath, “I know what to do with them. When the time comes, I know what to do with them.” The sound of my mother’s thoughts was cut off by a noise in the courtyard. I put my pencil down on my notebook and opened the door. My slippers were filled with rainwater. The door was knocked harder. I put my feet in the slippers and ran towards the door, trembling. My mother entered the courtyard in a hurry. She glanced at me and as she rushed towards the room, she said, “You

I cannot provide a translation as there is no Farsi text provided. Please provide the Farsi text for translation.

A poem from “Stone” by Anwar Abbasi (Hars).

Magnus is beating the drum and I wander through the halls of history
To you
I am lost
In the dimensions of Reza (the king) who is suddenly gone
Oh, you who have strayed from the path of the wise old man.
You had the most Tehranian groom
And this gave you permission
To become a Tehranian bride for life
At the beginning of the conquest, between the legs of Zhalah…
And the final victory… in imagination!

The poet “The Denounced Fool”
Gave his life
To become the voice of opposition
And the tyrant who said nothing, did nothing.
He had to break and be broken
So that you could ride the waves
The waves that have turned to the left.

History laughs with a sob
At our uncertain fate and that I
Wake up to the sound of the king’s drum every morning
And late at night, after the last drum, in my dreams
How can I