The Man Who Became Our Mother/ A Poem by Jamshid Azizi

Ah, the deceit of winter—Joy in lifeHas dwindled downTo mere survival. And yet,Poetry still exists.The moon still exists.In the palm of the oceanPearls are stillWaiting to be found. Though sleep has spread,WakefulnessRemains beautiful. They shatter the torches.They erase the starsWith black pens… To see tomorrow, We must awaken—Before we areAwoken. A man became our mother,With […]...

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The Celebration of Freedom/ A poem by Jamshid Azizi

Come, let’s dance, Let’s dance so much That the city awakens And seeks the sun. Our weapon is our dance, And the night knows This beautiful virus Multiplies Exponentially! ■ From every laugh, A flower fountains towards the light, Lips are explosions, And the endless echo of every laugh Weakens the covenant of the mourners. […]...

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Conversation with Solka; Rap, Gender Equality, and the Ongoing Struggle/ Morteza Hamounian

“Solka” is calling out; she is so well known by this name that her acquaintances have forgotten her real name, “Sara Bahreini”. Sara, also known as Solka, has numerous tattoos on her body and has a stylish gangster appearance; something similar to “Griselda Blanco” but the difference is that Sara is not a criminal, she […]...

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“Black field/ A poem by Jamshid Azizi”

The work of poetry is over, it is time to read the elegy. مرثیه می‌خواند And he sang a lament for us, and how long will he continue to sing this lament, he sings a lament. وله می‌آید Not everything is flowers and nightingales! Bullets come out of the barrel of a gun. You don’t […]...

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Siege; a poem by Mehrdad Naghibi

‌های تاریک و سرد، به سوی آفتاب می‌روم I am that cypress branch with a raised neck, going beyond the dark and cold nights, towards the sun. I have kissed all the stars. O souvenir of the blood of lovers. Oh Sepideh, sing with me the song of bright red light. If آن This pure […]...

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Flower Wounds / A poem by Mehrdad Naghibi

گل In the prisons of tyranny, now from whose blood do thousands of flowers bloom? What is the flower of carnation? Which brave warrior’s body is set ablaze by the flames of youth? که “That blood now drips from the walls of old wounds. Those flower wounds that” They go with sparks of fire towards […]...

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No one entrusts their life to the fire – a poem by Mehrdad Naghibi.

Passing through the depths of darkness, In centuries of chaos, In suffocating air, With burnt and bloody chests, And lives that fall to the ground Under the fire of bullets. Amidst those blood-filled fields; And valleys of memories of fallen comrades. I’m sorry, I cannot translate this text as it is not provided. Please provide […]...

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Freedom – A poem by Mehrdad Naghibi

Freedom A poem by Mehrdad Naghibi Freedom, Oh burning spark, Bloom like a flower. Now in the vast plain, You will blossom, Oh blood-stained flower, Every night the wounded birds Will sing a song for you. They will raise their voices, Oh sister, Oh brother; When the people roar on the shores of the Caspian […]...

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Hafez Musavi: Iranian artist is inevitably involved with social and political issues/ Mehrnoush No’edoust

Examining the committed art and social responsibility of the artist in conversation with Hafez Musavi, poet. Who is a committed artist? Is art simply a result of an artist’s reaction to political and social situations? What is the state of committed and protest art in the current protests in Iran? These questions have been asked […]...

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Homeland in Spring – A poem by Mustafa Sepahnia

The scent of the breeze, grass, and basil has arrived, it is spring. The pulse of the homeland has been taken   its mountains have been drawn upon. برد On top of his head, he carried a purple flower from the snowy plains in his embrace. It has captured the melody of its own playful […]...

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The dog has taken my head – a poem by Parsa Golshani

My head has been taken by a dog With all its thoughtful worms That eat wool and take gas   Yes! You, who have been dressed in a thousand-year-old rag Were beaten on the arch They entrusted the endless longing of your sleepless nights To the sun So its shadow in the depths of your […]...

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Broken Home/ A Poem by Mustafa Sepahnia

لی مسجد ما باقی ماند Abad Mosque and Vali’s ruined house, all the houses were destroyed but our mosque remained. شِ اوست Our thoughts are all about rewards, whoever has wisdom today is ahead of us. ِ محبت We are a community of love, gathered around the pulpit and the holy shrine. این اعجازات هستیم […]...

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