Do you remember when it was? We were all awake till daylight,
Cigarette to cigarette, because of stress,
Maybe our destiny is imprisoned in the vote box,
We were waiting for a miracle, to come out of that box!
What we believed in, and demanded for,
wasn't on making a choice of the lesser evil,
The shout was like a tumor in our throats,
But no one heard our cries.
It was a bad year, but we weren't bad,
It was such a test, we didn't fail!
We've got that ever response to fist isn't fist,
They beat us, their share was Sandis(1), and ours was billy club!
They tried to slime the green of your shirt,
They broke your body; they sealed your mouth,
They forced you to confess to what you haven't done,
They threatened you to a death, like Neda's.
We just erased that line between men and women,
Even we wore scarves for love of Majid(2).
Our words were clear, and they were deaf,
We were all trees, sentenced to be felled!
The streets smelled blood,
Sohrab was breathing his last, in front of Rostam's eyes.
They cut off the writing hands,
There was a horrible massacre, in the name of God.
The year in which the Coca-bottle smelled Kahrizak(3),
Now, I just want to burst in to tears.
You shouted, and I felt a twinge of envy.
Many times, I died and tortured with you.
Many times, I pounded my fist on the desk,
Many times, I cursed on all history and fate!
All of my poems were bloody,
and I was like an insane falcon in the cage!
It was a bad year, but we weren’t bad,
They tried to break us, but we stood!
Long live all those green cedars,
We're proud and this is our being's pulse.
Tomorrow is the day for sun to rise,
Like you, I'm sure these dark days will come to end.
The bad year, the wind's year, the year of tear and blood,
The year full of hate with excessive insanity!
The year of mine, the year of yours, the year of love and pride,
The year of a hand with a green vote under hatchet
The bad year, the wind's year, the year of tear and blood,
The year full of hate with excessive insanity!
The year of mine, the year of yours, the year of love and pride,
The year of a hand with a green vote under hatchet
Note: (1)a brand for fruit juice, (2)Majid Tavakoli, (3)Kahrizak Detention Center
Tuesday, 14 June 2011
When God Is Asleep
Three people, three men, from the same material as death
A broken body, from the same material as hail
the perseverance of three, six testicles and three penises
A Taraneh(Girl's name), an excuse, and an opportunity
three brains filled with holy verses, anger and lust
a room, a dove, one's respect
in their blood vessels flows semen
you are in a moment were you regret being alive
fear was erupting from her eyes
her hands were tied, she'd only scream
Evin silenced her voice in its walls
the pain of entry and the disgust from it repeating
and the scars of tremor from the laughter remained on her body
Taraneh just cry and close your eyes
Do it brother God is sleeping
Fuck it like your ancestors did in history
burn her injured and ripped apart body
read holy verses over her dead body
the earth should see its' heirs and cry blood
the earth should explode and gain some decency
the dark of night take over the skies
time and space should just get lost in the skies
the earth should spit on my face if I am silent
If I don't sing a hundred songs for Taraneh
Taraneh, you should witness how I am sinking in the sludge
Taraneh, just come and cross me off
A head on the side walk and a bullets asleep
A body a soldier and tears of a gun
A Basiji who loves the colour green
A Christian Paul and opposing war
A cleric free in the people's hands
without a turban on his head in the hand of a scorpion
A Mahsa, Jila, Shiva, Mohammad, Isa, Adnan, Kaveh, Jelveh, Ahmad
A lawyer without a lawyer, and the pain of being locked up
A Slap, profanity, and holding of breath
Crystal like spite stuck in the canary's throat
A noise , A bullet and a deep wound
A Mahmud but made from charcoal,
Humility, Paranoia, and a sense of perfection
A Government that has nausea from the people's stomachs
A herd that has been left unattended for 30 years and it has become a foundation
the bad, ugly and black lines drawn by a pencil
A doctor and an illiterate convict.
Just like the halo around the head of the nail
the caricature of a senseless Dictator
a foul hideous supreme leader
a Muawiyah in the clothes of Ali
Taraneh you should witness this ship in the sludge
cross its name from your notebook
Taraneh you should yell and laugh at me
Taraneh you should close your eyes and cry
Taraneh, you should witness how I am sinking in the sludge
Taraneh, just come and cross me off
A broken body, from the same material as hail
the perseverance of three, six testicles and three penises
A Taraneh(Girl's name), an excuse, and an opportunity
three brains filled with holy verses, anger and lust
a room, a dove, one's respect
in their blood vessels flows semen
you are in a moment were you regret being alive
fear was erupting from her eyes
her hands were tied, she'd only scream
Evin silenced her voice in its walls
the pain of entry and the disgust from it repeating
and the scars of tremor from the laughter remained on her body
Taraneh just cry and close your eyes
Do it brother God is sleeping
Fuck it like your ancestors did in history
burn her injured and ripped apart body
read holy verses over her dead body
the earth should see its' heirs and cry blood
the earth should explode and gain some decency
the dark of night take over the skies
time and space should just get lost in the skies
the earth should spit on my face if I am silent
If I don't sing a hundred songs for Taraneh
Taraneh, you should witness how I am sinking in the sludge
Taraneh, just come and cross me off
A head on the side walk and a bullets asleep
A body a soldier and tears of a gun
A Basiji who loves the colour green
A Christian Paul and opposing war
A cleric free in the people's hands
without a turban on his head in the hand of a scorpion
A Mahsa, Jila, Shiva, Mohammad, Isa, Adnan, Kaveh, Jelveh, Ahmad
A lawyer without a lawyer, and the pain of being locked up
A Slap, profanity, and holding of breath
Crystal like spite stuck in the canary's throat
A noise , A bullet and a deep wound
A Mahmud but made from charcoal,
Humility, Paranoia, and a sense of perfection
A Government that has nausea from the people's stomachs
A herd that has been left unattended for 30 years and it has become a foundation
the bad, ugly and black lines drawn by a pencil
A doctor and an illiterate convict.
Just like the halo around the head of the nail
the caricature of a senseless Dictator
a foul hideous supreme leader
a Muawiyah in the clothes of Ali
Taraneh you should witness this ship in the sludge
cross its name from your notebook
Taraneh you should yell and laugh at me
Taraneh you should close your eyes and cry
Taraneh, you should witness how I am sinking in the sludge
Taraneh, just come and cross me off
I say nonsense ( Music & Lyric )
We're brothers,
I mean poverty and me!
Companions since the beginning of the story, even here in Europe
"He lives in west, not in exile!" they say
"You're famous", they say,
"Fie on this fame", I reply
"Fie on my father's soul who didn't leave any money,
He made wrong to have a child, as a penniless one", I say
Like a weed in the damned world,
Everyone looks down on me!
My hair turned grey for that damned exam!
Then, they threw you out of scene!
Everyone becomes a doctor, to prescribe
You feel sick, hating them all
One pretends to be your lover,
You find her as relief of your pains
But without money, love bears no price!
"Money isn’t luck star!" He said
"But you're ill-starred without money" I replied
Money is unclean and dirty, when it’s our turn
Seems I'm the bad-man in this story
Seems poverty is our honor!
By the way, I've no honor at all
I was a thief, like others, if I'd honor!
Now I've to die to record a track!
I would sing cock and bull, if I'd honor!
I would bend under the burden of their force in Iran
I say nonsense!
I say nonsense!
But it's fact, hard to believe
But it's fact!
You're right, sky is blue, where're you are!
It's about the earth, somewhere black, somewhere white!
It's about the earth, and those resting in wealth,
and those starving from hunger!
Some make money, no matter the way
It means needy ones have no choice, except to die
It means sounds and sound bites are useless
Words can’t relieve any pain!
You mean they can? So When?
Misery isn't jest, you know
Poverty means misery, no matter where you are
Any stupid brags about being wise to you!
Any coward brags about being hero to you!
You see those surrounding you and you feel sick
Sure you're above others, but you have no money, how sad
Without money, life is all shit!
The one with money flies and you stay
Without money, you're a stranger to your love
When she ignores you, don't ask why
Without money, you're nothing, it's better to die
When you have to borrow money to pay the rent of your house
And even your brother wants a bond to trust in you
And your friend is thinking about deceiving you
This is how you harbor a grudge against others
And you forget about the meaning of love and emotion
Everyone lacks something in his life, you know
No one is always happy, pain is for all
They're someone just for themselves
Those you see are nobody, they're just lie
If they’re men, I know about their wives
If they're women, I know about their cries
I say nonsense!
I say nonsense!
But it's fact, hard to believe
But it's fact!
I mean poverty and me!
Companions since the beginning of the story, even here in Europe
"He lives in west, not in exile!" they say
"You're famous", they say,
"Fie on this fame", I reply
"Fie on my father's soul who didn't leave any money,
He made wrong to have a child, as a penniless one", I say
Like a weed in the damned world,
Everyone looks down on me!
My hair turned grey for that damned exam!
Then, they threw you out of scene!
Everyone becomes a doctor, to prescribe
You feel sick, hating them all
One pretends to be your lover,
You find her as relief of your pains
But without money, love bears no price!
"Money isn’t luck star!" He said
"But you're ill-starred without money" I replied
Money is unclean and dirty, when it’s our turn
Seems I'm the bad-man in this story
Seems poverty is our honor!
By the way, I've no honor at all
I was a thief, like others, if I'd honor!
Now I've to die to record a track!
I would sing cock and bull, if I'd honor!
I would bend under the burden of their force in Iran
I say nonsense!
I say nonsense!
But it's fact, hard to believe
But it's fact!
You're right, sky is blue, where're you are!
It's about the earth, somewhere black, somewhere white!
It's about the earth, and those resting in wealth,
and those starving from hunger!
Some make money, no matter the way
It means needy ones have no choice, except to die
It means sounds and sound bites are useless
Words can’t relieve any pain!
You mean they can? So When?
Misery isn't jest, you know
Poverty means misery, no matter where you are
Any stupid brags about being wise to you!
Any coward brags about being hero to you!
You see those surrounding you and you feel sick
Sure you're above others, but you have no money, how sad
Without money, life is all shit!
The one with money flies and you stay
Without money, you're a stranger to your love
When she ignores you, don't ask why
Without money, you're nothing, it's better to die
When you have to borrow money to pay the rent of your house
And even your brother wants a bond to trust in you
And your friend is thinking about deceiving you
This is how you harbor a grudge against others
And you forget about the meaning of love and emotion
Everyone lacks something in his life, you know
No one is always happy, pain is for all
They're someone just for themselves
Those you see are nobody, they're just lie
If they’re men, I know about their wives
If they're women, I know about their cries
I say nonsense!
I say nonsense!
But it's fact, hard to believe
But it's fact!
When ( lyric and music )
When..When condom was called Kapout was ugly was bad, when Sepah leader was spurious as Mammad When heroin and syringe were full of goal, when sedations themselves have pain When The war wasn`t, Ceiling hole of home was under Rain attack, when The war wasn`t and brains were under Bombardment When police was like a Dracula for my brother, when Rasht was Capital in The word for me When revolution leaned to Khavaran st, when Jamkaran`s letters went to Jamaran When Woman was holy as a Mother, when My sister`s friend`s friend was like a sister When headgears still were like lip of camel, when Hossein`s soldiers were Motorcyclist Villains When you are and spite of jeer and jeer of spite, when you are and a cattle of reprobate scientists When you are and penitence and incomplete poems, when you are and thought about pissing on The word. When strawberry and banana got free in heaven, when being in love of eye and breast got privacy When Tome ripped Jerry and ate her completely,When we got drunk With Song Meshki Range Eshghe , saw us that we keyed with break diapason When remembering you become my Shorts and place of praying wet, when my 20years old stood in your street When Shamlou had no foot, teachers were millipede, when Nosrat wasn`t on the desk was alone on a bed When you are and spite of jeer and jeer of spite, when you are and a cattle of reprobate scientists When you are and penitence and incomplete poems, when you are and thought about pissing on The word. When Reform and reformism were like together, when Revolutionaries were bent or weren`t enough When Bakeri and Hemmat were political,When Fereydoon was ill and died, when The wind carried 20 million Votes by itself When cloaks were Chocolate, white, yellow, when we were free and frees were like a pain When cinema`s direction was Baton significant, it wasn`t cinema, was circus full of Hedyeh and Golzar When you are and spite of jeer and jeer of spite, when you are and a cattle of reprobate scientists When you are and penitence and incomplete poems, when you are and thought about pissing on The word. When my wife and your daughter and your mother are bad women, when everybody sing Rap badly When the ghost of Marx was on the head of Derrida, when Dali behind the canvas was Frida When Hossein has white house, became Barak, when our Representative in U.S.A became unclear When we laughed to politic and politic laughed to me, when jeer had Parazit, Frequencies did stinkWhen Human Rights was playing and strategy, When Iran was, Cyrus and rice and kebab and nostalgia When, when it wanted to happen , somebody swear us of behind of curtain When you are and spite of jeer and jeer of spite, when you are and a cattle of reprobate scientists When you are and penitence and incomplete poems, when you are and thought about pissing on
Mahdi ( Lyric ) & Youtube L:ink
Gilaki
I am all pain yet there is no relief
In this darkness, where is light?
falling apart from grief, alone and abandoned
where is my tower of strength in life?
Farsi
I ran from Chakhmaleh to Ghom
to see you Mahdi with no success
The mullah of the town said, I must have not been worthy
Said, maybe you talked to me but I didn’t hear
Maybe because I am full of sin and transgressions Mahdi
I am quite unhappy with myself Mahdi
Where are you that I may wash your feet with my tears
My passion is meeting you and I wait for your resurrection
Sir, let me tell you something with all my heart
Its six months that I have not been paid my monthly salary
You that runs the whole affairs of the world
Maybe throw a half glance our way too, your devotee
No straight is left in my legs holly sir
I am awake all night thinking of my predicament
My daughter, your servant, her wedding is coming up
maybe somebody can take her hand, so she can live in more comfort
All our hopes rests on you sir
don’t let me be embarrassed in front of my family
It counts for nothing that I am a father of a [Iran/Iraq war] martyr
I saw no benefits from the “Maryr Organization”
That sin should be counted for those who say
who say those same people [who run the Organization] are like bandits
But I know nothing of politics
at the end some people come and some people go
But we stay the same poor schmuck that we were before
dear sir, please you make our prayers come true
Chorus
Mahdi, you have made a fool of us
we plead to you, call on you so often
but you don’t give us a helping hand, you don’t hear this prayer
Mahdi, how long should we call on God?
Visiting you also belongs to those who in your name
buy and sell hundreds like me
Generation after generation we have been Schmucks
In the news we live but in the census we are dead
when your hands are empty [when poor] you are a vagabond
They have sucked our marrow dry, where are you Mahdi?
A hungry stomach can’t raise its voice
you are in the well [Chamkaran well, near Ghom, said to be Mahdi’s temporary’s living quarters till his resurrection] and you know nothing of where we are at
the pressures from these American Sanctions
is it for anyone other than those like me oh holy one?
Everything is futile and aimless except subsidies [refers to a plan to direct basic subsidies based on income]
and that has also specified based on some plan or politics
that those like me can’t get their heads around it
when would ever our intellect be able to comprehend the holy government? [government run by God’s representative on earth as it is portrayed currently]
I swear to you dear sir, I am tired of living
Just take this life and bring me comfort for God’s sake
one time we are somebody’s impoverished
and we are given promises of water and energy and a house [Khomeini’s now famouse promiss of free amenities upon IRA’s success after revolution of 79]
Another time we have to go to war and die
[based on the] the bullshit of “Karbalah we are coming” [Khomeini’s edict that the war with Iraq will not end till the city of Karballah in Iraq is taken by Iranian forces]
Eight years of living with false progress
with brats [of government officials] living in Dubai, London and Hawaii
Eight years we joked about it and lived with it
Then July 3, 09 [came around] and the [university] student martyrs
the gulf with its oil that’s no longer ours
we are now children, abandoned orphaned children
What ever earth covers the grave of the Great Koroush
May it be a blessing to your long life, when will you come back?
Chorus
There is a lump in our throat from sorrow Mahdi
you are not there or you have closed your eyes Mahdi
Mahdi, you have made a fool of us
we plead to you, call on you so often
but you don’t give us a helping hand, you don’t hear this prayer
Mahdi, how much longer should we call on God ....
I am all pain yet there is no relief
In this darkness, where is light?
falling apart from grief, alone and abandoned
where is my tower of strength in life?
Farsi
I ran from Chakhmaleh to Ghom
to see you Mahdi with no success
The mullah of the town said, I must have not been worthy
Said, maybe you talked to me but I didn’t hear
Maybe because I am full of sin and transgressions Mahdi
I am quite unhappy with myself Mahdi
Where are you that I may wash your feet with my tears
My passion is meeting you and I wait for your resurrection
Sir, let me tell you something with all my heart
Its six months that I have not been paid my monthly salary
You that runs the whole affairs of the world
Maybe throw a half glance our way too, your devotee
No straight is left in my legs holly sir
I am awake all night thinking of my predicament
My daughter, your servant, her wedding is coming up
maybe somebody can take her hand, so she can live in more comfort
All our hopes rests on you sir
don’t let me be embarrassed in front of my family
It counts for nothing that I am a father of a [Iran/Iraq war] martyr
I saw no benefits from the “Maryr Organization”
That sin should be counted for those who say
who say those same people [who run the Organization] are like bandits
But I know nothing of politics
at the end some people come and some people go
But we stay the same poor schmuck that we were before
dear sir, please you make our prayers come true
Chorus
Mahdi, you have made a fool of us
we plead to you, call on you so often
but you don’t give us a helping hand, you don’t hear this prayer
Mahdi, how long should we call on God?
Visiting you also belongs to those who in your name
buy and sell hundreds like me
Generation after generation we have been Schmucks
In the news we live but in the census we are dead
when your hands are empty [when poor] you are a vagabond
They have sucked our marrow dry, where are you Mahdi?
A hungry stomach can’t raise its voice
you are in the well [Chamkaran well, near Ghom, said to be Mahdi’s temporary’s living quarters till his resurrection] and you know nothing of where we are at
the pressures from these American Sanctions
is it for anyone other than those like me oh holy one?
Everything is futile and aimless except subsidies [refers to a plan to direct basic subsidies based on income]
and that has also specified based on some plan or politics
that those like me can’t get their heads around it
when would ever our intellect be able to comprehend the holy government? [government run by God’s representative on earth as it is portrayed currently]
I swear to you dear sir, I am tired of living
Just take this life and bring me comfort for God’s sake
one time we are somebody’s impoverished
and we are given promises of water and energy and a house [Khomeini’s now famouse promiss of free amenities upon IRA’s success after revolution of 79]
Another time we have to go to war and die
[based on the] the bullshit of “Karbalah we are coming” [Khomeini’s edict that the war with Iraq will not end till the city of Karballah in Iraq is taken by Iranian forces]
Eight years of living with false progress
with brats [of government officials] living in Dubai, London and Hawaii
Eight years we joked about it and lived with it
Then July 3, 09 [came around] and the [university] student martyrs
the gulf with its oil that’s no longer ours
we are now children, abandoned orphaned children
What ever earth covers the grave of the Great Koroush
May it be a blessing to your long life, when will you come back?
Chorus
There is a lump in our throat from sorrow Mahdi
you are not there or you have closed your eyes Mahdi
Mahdi, you have made a fool of us
we plead to you, call on you so often
but you don’t give us a helping hand, you don’t hear this prayer
Mahdi, how much longer should we call on God ....
Brother on gallows ( Lyric )
With the wind, this sea is gone. Mourn sea. Mourn on the base of the mountain
What is going to be left from me tomorrow if I don't sing and talk about you, Farzad?
When the pen is unable to describe you, when each eye is intoxicated from your struggle
Forgive me, forgive me the iron-willed rock-hard hero, I swear to your determination in your struggle
that your death is becoming the start of a blossom. The hanged flower, you held up your head when walking to the gallows
When your shroud makes their hearts fearful, when they are scared even to hand over your corpse
What else is left to lose, the comrade of mountains and books, Kamangar?
I don't wail, it's not the time to mourn, my mind is full of anger, the inheritance is nothing
except tears and your colorless body in the soil, except your Kurdish eyes and the Kurdishness of your eyes,
except a gun that was in fact just a pen in your hands, they were the real gun-holders and you were the pen-holder
Farzad, the gallows which hanged you will pull other Farzad(s)
to the sky tomorrow, But every night a star will become again pregnant with a Farzad
I swear to your name that is carved on hearts, I swear to the sorrow of your mother
If I don't take revenge for what they did to you, my dignity and pride will be gone tomorrow
(In Kurdish:) From the day you left, there is no strength left in me
O my one and only beloved child, O the hope of my life
Don't cry after his departure, mother
Look, your son left with dignity and pride and he became free
It was enough bearing all that disgrace and insult
Where is that moment free of lamentation and shame, the moment of being respected, the moment of beautiful sense?
What do we do with the tiredness in this nadir? what do we do with the questions "what will happen", "what" and "why"?
What do we do with the azure faces at the end of the dead ends, the voices of wailers and minarets?
What do we do with the dried blood in our throats, with the broken statures of all these youths?
With the mind that has things to say and gets broken, meaning the last doors of hope get closed
I told you Mister that you will be on trial tomorrow, so stop all these tortures and killings
You are unfamiliar with my identity, you can't make me similar to yourself by force
You are humiliating me in the whole world, you insulted all that I am
My history is full of Babak and Kaveh, you do Takhti-killing, it's your plan
to kill a nation that is defenseless, you proved that politics is dirty
I tell you this in your own language so that you understand it, believe it, my verses are noble
(In Kurdish:) From the day you left, there is no strength left in me
O my one and only beloved child, O the hope of my life
What is going to be left from me tomorrow if I don't sing and talk about you, Farzad?
When the pen is unable to describe you, when each eye is intoxicated from your struggle
Forgive me, forgive me the iron-willed rock-hard hero, I swear to your determination in your struggle
that your death is becoming the start of a blossom. The hanged flower, you held up your head when walking to the gallows
When your shroud makes their hearts fearful, when they are scared even to hand over your corpse
What else is left to lose, the comrade of mountains and books, Kamangar?
I don't wail, it's not the time to mourn, my mind is full of anger, the inheritance is nothing
except tears and your colorless body in the soil, except your Kurdish eyes and the Kurdishness of your eyes,
except a gun that was in fact just a pen in your hands, they were the real gun-holders and you were the pen-holder
Farzad, the gallows which hanged you will pull other Farzad(s)
to the sky tomorrow, But every night a star will become again pregnant with a Farzad
I swear to your name that is carved on hearts, I swear to the sorrow of your mother
If I don't take revenge for what they did to you, my dignity and pride will be gone tomorrow
(In Kurdish:) From the day you left, there is no strength left in me
O my one and only beloved child, O the hope of my life
Don't cry after his departure, mother
Look, your son left with dignity and pride and he became free
It was enough bearing all that disgrace and insult
Where is that moment free of lamentation and shame, the moment of being respected, the moment of beautiful sense?
What do we do with the tiredness in this nadir? what do we do with the questions "what will happen", "what" and "why"?
What do we do with the azure faces at the end of the dead ends, the voices of wailers and minarets?
What do we do with the dried blood in our throats, with the broken statures of all these youths?
With the mind that has things to say and gets broken, meaning the last doors of hope get closed
I told you Mister that you will be on trial tomorrow, so stop all these tortures and killings
You are unfamiliar with my identity, you can't make me similar to yourself by force
You are humiliating me in the whole world, you insulted all that I am
My history is full of Babak and Kaveh, you do Takhti-killing, it's your plan
to kill a nation that is defenseless, you proved that politics is dirty
I tell you this in your own language so that you understand it, believe it, my verses are noble
(In Kurdish:) From the day you left, there is no strength left in me
O my one and only beloved child, O the hope of my life
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