Vampire

(vampire)

Then he took the blade and broke the agreement

He gave way to the blood of the oppressed

Someone behind that demon jumped up

The world was reminded of his oppression

An orphan's roar came from Gaza

O judge, fear!

The father's house came to earth

To the child's sleeping blood, to the mother's mourning

There is no roof and no nest

There was no peace in the children

They drove people out of their homes

To the plain of disaster, homeless and new

Thousands died from Kane's blade

Thousands of people screamed in pain

No, this soil is the Kinjoy field

No human blood is the source of victory

Let the world be free from violence and hatred

What should he answer before the prosecutor?

Two demons laughed out of the darkness

They marched in riotous fashion

One had a gold crown on his head

He had put the world under his command

Another had a cross blade in his hand

The heart rose from the love of humanity

Someone said: I am the judge of the times

The world was under my command

Another said: I lit a fire

I built a city with the blood of the oppressed

One behind the other, it became a mountain

The earth was overwhelmed by oppression

A roar of orphans arrived in Gaza

The sound of breaking reached the universe

A mother said from under the rubble:

Where are you, that my child died?

where home That quiet ceiling of ours?

Where are our morning laughs?

Father sleeping under the rubble

Orphans looking for a morsel of bread

They dragged them away from home

They were cut from their mother's arms

Nine children were charged with guilt

No mother has come to war

How much blood was shed on the ground

How many flowers have faded

They wrote in the notebook with blood

that this soil, the sight of oppression, the day of Don

Know, you two demons of deception and pride

Do not oppress Giti, Mustadir

There was no gold left, no bed and no officer in place

Neither the sword nor the ruler remained

Let the world judge the actions of kings

The oppressor will finally be nameless

If the throne of the world is based on blood

What is left of the world?

Let it be human, not gold, not army

Only the name of goodness, only custom

The world survived from his breath

Not from the blade of kings and the throne of corruption

(خون آشام)

دگر تیغ برداشت و پیمان شکست

به خون ستمدیدگان راه بست

یکی پشت آن دیو، پولاد شد

جهان از ستمکاری‌اش یاد شد

ز غزه برآمد خروش یتیم

که ای داور دادگر، داد و بیم!

به خاک اندر آمد سرای پدر

به خون خفته کودک، به ماتم مادر

نه سقفی بماند و نه آشیان

نه آرامشی ماند در کودکان

ز خانه برون راندند مردمان

به دشت بلا، بی‌پناه و نوان

هزاران تن از تیغ کین جان سپرد

هزاران تن از درد، فریاد برد

نه این خاک، میدان کین‌جویی است

نه خون بشر، مایهٔ پیروزی است

جهان گر بماند به بیداد و کین

چه پاسخ دهد پیشِ دادآفرین؟

دو دیو از دل تیرگی سر زدند

به آیین بیداد، لشکر زدند

یکی تاج زر بر سر افکنده بود

جهان را به فرمان خود کرده بود

دگر تیغ پولاد در دست داشت

دل از مهر انسانیون برفراشت

یکی گفت: من داور روزگار

جهان را بوَد زیرفرمان من، قرار

دگر گفت: من آتش افروختم

به خون ستمدیدگان، شهر ساختم

یکی پشت آن دیگری، کوه شد

زمین از ستم، غرق اندوه شد

ز غزه خروش یتیمان رسید

صدای شکستن به کیهان رسید

یکی مادر از زیر آوار گفت:

کجایی، که فرزند من جان سپرد؟

کجا خانه؟ آن سقف آرام ما؟

کجا خنده‌های سحرگاه ما؟

پدر خفته در زیر آوار و خاک

یتیمان به دنبال یک لقمه نان

ز خانه به غربت کشیدندشان

ز آغوش مادر بریدندشان

نه کودک گناهی به گردن گرفت

نه مادر به جنگ و ستیز آمده‌ست

چه بسیار خون‌ها که بر خاک ریخت

چه بسیار گل‌ها که پژمرده گشت

به دفتر نوشتند با خط خون

که این خاک، دید از ستم، روز دون

بدان ای دو دیو فریب و غرور

نماند به گیتی ستم، مستدیر

نه زر ماند و نه تخت و افسر به جای

نه شمشیر ماند و نه فرمانروای

جهان داور کردار شاهان شود

ستمگر سرانجام، بی‌نام شود

اگر تخت عالم به خون استوار

بماند، چه ماند از جهان یادگار؟

بماند ز انسان، نه زر، نه سپاه

فقط نام نیکی، فقط رسم داد

جهان زنده ماند از نفس‌های داد

نه از تیغ شاهان و تخت فساد

#behnammohtarami#

At the threshold of hazrat dost

(at the threshold of Hazrat Dost)

May the dawn of the east rise, the sun of friendship
From those who live in ashes, let the song of Nasut rise

No, the sun is the fire that shines on the heavens
That the evil of passion rises from the solitude of life

The fog chewed his hidden face from the mirror of the night
May the beauty of light rise from every curtain of darkness

In its rotation, the sky is at the command of eternity
From every turn, thousands of hidden wisdoms arise

The earth wears a green canopy from the prostration of the rain
From the heart of the silent seed, thousands of passions will arise

What does limited reason know about infinite truths?
which sometimes arise from the silence of love in hundreds of ways

I am nothing but a mirror of the sun
That from meeting him, the soul will rise with thousands of lights

If you are lonely, find the privacy of a friend
To rise from the ruins of the heart, a palace of purpose

There was no name or address left in his place
Let Mansour's reputation rise

The world in the eyes of a lover is a manifestation of the essence of a lover. Blessed is the eye that wakes up from seeing these secrets

#behnammohtarami#

(در آستان حضرت دوست)

سحر ز مشرق جان، آفتاب دوست برخیزد
ز خاکسترنشینان، نغمهٔ ناسوت برخیزد

نه خورشید است آن آتش که بر افلاک می‌تابد
که از خلوتگه جانان، شرار شوق برخیزد

مه از آیینهٔ شب، چهرهٔ پنهان او جوید
که از هر پردهٔ ظلمت، جمال نور برخیزد

فلک در گردش خود، سر به فرمان ازل دارد
ز هر چرخش، هزاران حکمت مکتوم برخیزد

زمین از سجدهٔ باران، قبای سبز می‌پوشد
ز قلب دانهٔ خاموش، هزاران شور برخیزد

چه داند عقل محدود از حقیقت‌های بی‌پایان؟
که گاهی از سکوت عشق، صدها طور برخیزد

من از خورشید، جز آیینهٔ آن روی نستانم
که از دیدار او، جان را هزاران نور برخیزد

اگر از خویش وا مانی، حریم دوست پیدا کن
که از ویرانهٔ دل، قصر پرمنظور برخیزد

مرا در کوی او نه نام ماند و نه نشانی
چو از من بگذرم، آوازهٔ منصور برخیزد

جهان در چشم عاشق، جلوه‌ای از ذات یار آمد

خوشا چشمی که از دیدار این اسرار برخیزد

#بهنام_محترمی#

dealing with godless lands

(dealing with godless lands)

Chapter 1: A Deal in the Dark

No one knew what happened behind closed doors that night.

In the capital of a country where God's name is emblazoned on its flag and hymns, a secret delegation from the government entered a building whose name was not even seen in the list of official buildings of the country.

The guests came from a land that had been ruled by communist ideology for decades; A land whose political system was based on a materialistic worldview and official disbelief in God.

They brought suitcases with them, which contained neither gold nor conventional weapons.

Their goods had another name:

Eavesdropping, tracking, behavior analysis, mass surveillance and advanced communication technologies.

After several hours of negotiations, the head of the foreign delegation said:

We provide you with the technology; How you use it is up to your government.

The man who was sitting at the head of the host group smiled and replied:

We are looking for security. Government security, country security and system security.

The foreign guest was silent for a moment and said:

In today's world, whoever owns the information owns the future.

The contract was signed.

No one asked about the humans who might one day become victims of these technologies.

No one spoke of conscience.

And no one asked who will be responsible if one day the device that was made for security becomes a tool for depriving people of security?

Chapter Two: Birth of Invisible Eyes

A few months later, slow changes began in the community.

A new structure of supervision was formed; A network consisting of electronic equipment, legal and illegal eavesdropping systems, cameras, databases and human forces.

In confidential reports, a strange term was used:

Society with moving eyes

This phrase did not mean only cameras installed on the walls.

In the imagination of the designers of this project, every citizen could become a source for collecting information about other citizens; A network where social trust gradually gave way to suspicion.

But what was not written in the official reports was a bigger danger: the possibility of using personal information to build a case, destroy people's credibility and silence the voice of the opposition.

In such a society, sometimes it was not necessary to imprison someone.

It was enough to destroy his credibility.

The third chapter: The man whose voice no one heard

In one of the cities of the same country, there lived a man who was neither in power nor affiliated to any political movement.

He had a simple life.

He worked, read books and sometimes wrote poetry.

But from one day to the next, things happened in his life that could not be explained to him.

He felt insecure.

He looked for an answer.

He trusted several people, but each time he was met with a wall of indifference.

Someone said it was a disease.

The second one said he was hallucinating.

Soumi didn't even listen to his words until the end.

No one knew what really happened to him; Because no independent and reliable research had been done.

But one thing was clear: the man had been condemned in society before he had a chance to prove his claims.

One day he wrote in his diary:

I don't want anyone to believe my words without reason. I just want someone to check the truth before they call me crazy, addict or criminal.

Chapter 4: The truth in the archives

Years passed.

Governments changed, directors retired, and many of those who once attended secret meetings were no longer alive.

But the documents remained.

While investigating the history of surveillance technologies, a group of independent researchers found documents that indicated the transfer of equipment and secret contracts between the Muslim government and several communist countries.

They found that some technologies have been used for mass surveillance of citizens, and in some cases misuse of personal information, violations of privacy, and illegal suppression of individuals have occurred.

But they faced a more difficult question:

Is it possible to prove that certain people were targeted by a technical operation?

Can medical reports, communication documents, technical data and witness testimony shed light on the truth?

The researchers decided to do research without prejudice.

They did not want to call every claim the truth; Just as they didn't want to ignore any potential victim due to the lack of basic evidence.

Among the old files, they came across the name of the same man.

A man who wrote years ago:

I just want someone to hear me.

Chapter Five: Trial of Conscience

The publication of the first reports shocked the society.

People asked:

Who signed the contracts?

Who received the equipment?

Who supervised their performance?

Why was there no independent mechanism to protect citizens?

And most importantly:

How many people have lost the opportunity to defend themselves because of labels that were slapped on them without research?

In one of the public meetings, an elderly researcher stood behind the podium and said:

The problem is not only the listening device. The problem is that when power takes over the means of surveillance and is not accountable, it may deprive a person of the right to privacy, the right to defense, and even the right to be heard.

How can a country that uses God's name on its tongue claim to protect human dignity if it does not protect human dignity?

And a country that has removed God from its political system, if it uses technology without ethics, what guarantee remains for human dignity?

The hall fell into silence.

Final chapter: A letter to the future

The man who was 45 years old at the time of writing was no longer among the living.

He passed away many years ago with a lot of unanswered questions.

But his notebook had reached the hands of researchers.

The last page was written as follows:

(If you ever read this post, know that I am not asking you to believe me for no reason.)

I want you to research.

If I am wrong, write the truth; But if I have been wronged and you have been able to prove it, don't be silent.

Maybe one day another person in a corner of the world, alone and without shelter, will be caught by a device called security.

Maybe he will be accused, maybe they won't hear his voice, maybe they will put thousands of stigmas on him.

But you, who have access to the truth in the future, do not let his loneliness become a document of the innocence of the oppressors.

I have nothing left to lose; But I still hope for justice.

The researcher closed the notebook.

Outside the building, the city was as busy as ever.

People walked past the cameras, holding their phones and walking down the streets.

But that day, a question had formed in the minds of many of them:

If technology can one day monitor all humans, who will monitor the owners of the technology?

And this is how an old case became a question for all future generations.

#Behnam_Moshtrami#

(The last refuge of man)

The governments that used to rule over the people in the name of order and security, were now so deeply in power that they no longer considered themselves not only the owners of the land, but also the owners of people's lives and thoughts. They had reached a stage where they claimed to be God in their privacy; As if the creation of man was not enough, they had to take over his thoughts, dreams and even dreams.

In the silent cities, they built buildings that looked like medical and research centers, but behind their windowless walls, a terrible project was going on.

They named them (Houses of Peace).

But there was no peace.

These houses were built to disturb the minds of the oppressed; Where homeless people were subjected to artificial sleep. Dreams that no longer originated from the human unconscious, but were designed and injected into people's minds from the command rooms.

Every dream was a report; Every nightmare, a message; And every disturbed mind is a window to the hidden organizations of the government.

At night, when the city fell asleep, the dream machines woke up. Information was extracted from people's minds and transferred to other organizations. Even in the dark of the night, the government did not want people to be out of its control for a moment.

But they did not understand one thing.

People who had lived in invisible chains for years, no longer expected to change the chains.

They were no longer waiting for someone to come and repair the rusty rings of captivity.

They no longer believed in the promises of tomorrow.

People had reached a point where they didn't want a house, nor a promise, nor even a dream that the government made for them.

They only wanted one thing:

Liberation!

Freedom from the shackles and chains that were tied on their hands, from the eyes that did not stop chasing them for a moment and from the minds that did not belong to them even in their sleep.

And it was from that night that a strange thing happened...

For the first time, the dream machines faced silence.

No reports were received, no nightmares were recorded, and no messages were transmitted to the command center.

It was as if people had decided to take back even their dreams from the government.

Because the government that takes over a person's sleep is still afraid of his awakening.

#Behnam_Mohtrami#

Canary

Canary, behind silent bars

He sings in memory of the sky

Not because he is happy in the cage

Because still

freedom

He has not forgotten.

The night was passing by the window

and the moon

with a sad face

On the cold wires of the cage

you give up

Canary closed her eyes

And he remembered the distant places

a branch that blows

He knew his name

The rain that falls without permission

And the sky that

to fly

He did not ask permission from anyone.

Years passed

His feathers turned sunset

and his song

early in the morning

He got a lump in his throat.

Cage owner, every morning

A new seed was falling

And he said with satisfaction:

Look, he's still reading

So he is happy.

And no one asked

That little song

how many times

before reaching his lips

It is dead in his throat.

one day

Canary no longer read.

Nine windows were opened

No wind came home

not the sky

He called from far away.

cage owner

He poured a new seed

and waited.

When the evening came,

He saw the bird

which is upside down

and is sleeping silently.

He said sadly:

Poor... Why don't you sing anymore?

and cage

He fell into a heavy silence

so heavy

That is the sound of a feather falling

on its floor

It was like the sky falling.

the next morning,

The owner of the cage opened the window

He put the bird in the garden

And he said to himself:

Now he is free. 7

but the wind

He passed over his silent feathers

and branches

They did not hear any sound.

I understood that day

All prisons

They have no walls

some of them

They are so calm

that prisoner

with his song

He sings for the jailer.

And more bitter than the death of a canary,

It was the sky

It was still there

free, endless

And unaware of a bird

that all his life

Longing to reach it

He had sung.

#Behnam_Mohtarami

قناری، پشت میله‌های خاموش

به یاد آسمان آواز می‌خواند

نه از آن رو که در قفس خوش است۶

از آن رو که هنوز

آزادی را

از خاطر نبرده است.

شب از کنار پنجره می‌گذشت

و ماه

با صورتی غمگین

بر سیم‌های سرد قفس

دست می‌کشید.

قناری چشم بست

و دوردست‌ها را به یاد آورد

شاخه‌ای که باد

نامش را می‌دانست

بارانی که بی‌اجازه می‌بارید

و آسمانی که

برای پرواز

از کسی اجازه نمی‌خواست.

سال‌ها گذشت

پرهایش رنگ غروب گرفت

و آوازش

از بلندای صبح

به بغضی در گلو رسید.

صاحب قفس، هر صبح

دانه‌ای تازه می‌ریخت

و با رضایت می‌گفت:

ببین، هنوز می‌خواند

پس خوشبخت است.

و هیچ‌کس نپرسید

آن آواز کوچک

چند بار

پیش از رسیدن به لب‌هایش

در گلویش مرده است.

یک روز،

قناری دیگر نخواند.

نه پنجره باز شد

نه باد به خانه آمد

نه آسمان

از دوردست‌ها صدایش زد.

صاحب قفس

دانه‌ای تازه ریخت

و منتظر ماند.

غروب که شد،

پرنده را دید

که سر بر بال نهاده

و خاموش خوابیده است.

با اندوه گفت:

بیچاره...... چرا دیگر آواز نمی‌خوانی؟

و قفس

در سکوتی سنگین فرو رفت

چنان سنگین

که صدای افتادن یک پر

بر کف آن

شبیه فروریختن آسمان بود.

صبح روز بعد،

صاحب قفس پنجره را گشود

پرنده را در باغ گذاشت

و با خود گفت:

حالا آزاد است.۷

اما باد،

از روی پرهای خاموشش گذشت

و شاخه‌ها

هیچ صدایی نشنیدند.

آن روز فهمیدم

همهٔ زندان‌ها

دیوار ندارند

بعضی‌شان

آن‌قدر آرام‌اند

که زندانی

با آوازش

برای زندانبان ترانه می‌خواند.

و تلخ‌تر از مرگ قناری،

آن بود که آسمان

هنوز همان‌جا بود

آزاد، بی‌انتها،

و بی‌خبر از پرنده‌ای

که تمام عمرش

در حسرت رسیدن به آن

آواز خوانده بود.

#بهنام_محترمی#

I forgot to watch you

I forgot to watch you

My heart is filled with the sadness of your love

I wrote my existence in your soil

I turn everywhere, I see you

Know the world with your imagination

If you drive out of your door a hundred times

My heart has never broken your promise

I lost my heart because of the name and shame of the world

That my life wanted nothing but your air

I shut my mouth in the silence of the night

Let my heart be filled with the song of your love

If there is a day when you leave

No one left me except Koi Tu Mawa

I am the drop that perished in the sea

He passed away and recognized the sea

#behnammohtarami#

محو تماشای تو

دلم را با غم عشقت سرشته

وجودم را به خاک تو نوشته

به هر سو رو کنم، روی تو بینم

جهان را با خیال تو شناخته

اگر صد بار برانی از در خویش

دلم بر عهد تو هرگز نتاخته

ز نام و ننگ و دنیا دل بریدم

که جانم جز هوای تو نخواسته

زبان بستم که در خاموشی شب

دلم با نغمهٔ عشقت بسازد

اگر روزی رسد هنگام رفتن

مرا جز کوی تو مأوا نمانده

من آن قطره که در دریا فنا شد

ز خود بگذشت و دریا را شناخته

#بهنام_محترمی#

Physical memory of a soul

[Physical memory of a soul]

You are so rooted in me that I don't know

which side of this mirror

I am standing

And which side, you?

I passed myself;

Not like a traveler

cross a territorial border,

But as the soul

From the last belonging

It overlooks the world.

Now that I hear my voice,

Someone from deep within you

He speaks to me;

And in the continuous silence of the night,

Someone from deep within me

He remembers you.

It is strange;

you have never been in me

and i

for years

I am full of your absence.

What is the secret between us?

that distance,

with all its breadth,

could not

separate me from you?

sometimes i think

Maybe before this body

have a name,

my soul

In a distant memory

has been familiar with your soul;

maybe this love

not the beginning of an attachment,

Which is a link to remember

that time

He forgot his name

and John

never

I don't ask myself anymore

Why have I become like you?

I am afraid of this

that one day I will see you

And I can't find any sign of myself.

Lest the whole life

I have not been myself,

not you

but an eternal memory,

which is scattered in two tones

and eager to return,

Looking for each other.

And if they ask me one day

who are you

I will say:

I am that stranger

which does not have a face of its own;

That nameless loneliness

which is in the crowd of the world

until maybe

in someone's eyes

Find your lost memory.

lest I

to be the physical memory of his soul;

and this life

The long exile of a soul

from himself

#Behnam_Mohtarami#

[خاطرهٔ جسمانی یک روح]

چنان در من ریشه دواندی که نمی‌دانم

کدامین سوی این آیینه،

من ایستاده‌ام

و کدامین سو، تو.

من از خویش عبور کردم؛

نه آن‌گونه که مسافر

از مرز سرزمینی بگذرد،

بلکه آن‌گونه که روح

از آخرین تعلق خویش

به جهان چشم می‌پوشد.

اکنون صدایم را که می‌شنوم،

کسی از اعماق تو

با من سخن می‌گوید؛

و در سکوت ممتد شب،

کسی از اعماق من

تو را به یاد می‌آورد.

عجیب است؛

تو هرگز در من نبوده‌ای

و من،

سال‌هاست

از غیبت تو پُرم.

چه رازی میان ما جاری‌ست

که فاصله،

با تمام وسعت خویش،

نتوانسته است

مرا از تو جدا کند؟

گاه می‌اندیشم

شاید پیش از آن‌که این تن

نامی داشته باشد،

روح من

در خاطره‌ای دور

با روح تو آشنا بوده است؛

شاید این عشق،

نه آغاز یک دلبستگی،

که به یاد آوردن پیوندی‌ست

که زمان،

نامش را از یاد برده

و جان،

هرگز.

دیگر از خود نمی‌پرسم

چرا شبیه تو شده‌ام؛

از این می‌ترسم

که روزی در تو بنگرم

و هیچ نشانی از خویش نیابم.

مبادا تمام عمر،

من نه خودم بوده باشم،

نه تو؛

بلکه خاطره‌ای ازلی،

که در دو تن پراکنده شده

و در اشتیاق بازگشت،

یکدیگر را می‌جوید.

و اگر روزی از من بپرسند

تو کیستی،

خواهم گفت:

من آن غریبه‌ام

که چهره‌ای از خویش ندارد؛

آن تنهایی بی‌نام

که در ازدحام جهان می‌گردد

تا شاید

در چشمان کسی،

خاطرهٔ گمشدهٔ خویش را بیابد.

مبادا من،

خاطرهٔ جسمانی روح او باشم؛

و این زندگی،

تبعید طولانی یک روح

از خویشتن خویش.

#بهنام_محترمی#

I stayed alone

I stayed alone

A song in mourning for parting

You are gone and there is a roar of storm in my chest

There is a handful of hijran left after you are done

The house is silent and at night, your eyes cry in mourning

There is a picture of rain on the wall of my heart

I have walked the streets, with tired feet, restless

In the dust of your departure, there is a trace of friends

I am the same, tired of repeating these cold nights

With a broken heart, which is stuck in winter

Oh, the distant dream of no one's time

There is only a lot of warmth left in my life from you

There is no sound, no light, no one at home

The wall has been in ruins for the rest of his life

You left and I am left with burnt memories

Like a broken reed, it is left bare because of the lamentation

I wish you could come back from your journey for a moment

Until you see, this life is over

I didn't stay life, life ran away from me

I have remained like a shadow, hidden by itself.

#behnammohtarami#

تنها ماندم

نغمه‌ای در سوگ فراق

رفتی و در سینه‌ام، غوغای طوفان مانده است

از تمام بودنت، یک مشت هجران مانده است

خانه خاموش است و شب، در سوگ چشمانت گریست

روی دیوار دلم، تصویر باران مانده است

کوچه‌ها را گشته‌ام، با پای خسته، بی‌قرار

در غبار رفتنت، ردی ز یاران مانده است

من همانم، خسته از تکرار این شب‌های سرد

با دلی ویران، که در بند زمستان مانده است

آه، ای رؤیای دور روزگار بی‌کسی

از تو در جانم فقط داغ فراوان مانده است

نه صدایی، نه چراغی، نه کسی در خانه نیست

از تمام زندگی، دیوار ویران مانده است

رفتی و من مانده‌ام با خاطرات سوخته

چون نی بشکسته‌ای کز ناله عریان مانده است

کاش می‌شد لحظه‌ای برگردی از راه سفر

تا ببینی بعد تو، این جان به پایان مانده است

من نماندم زندگی را، زندگی از من گریخت

مانده‌ام چون سایه‌ای، کز خویش پنهان مانده است.........

#بهنام_محترمی#

Days that hand names

Days that had names

In those distant times,

When the dust of centuries had not yet settled on the face of history and Alborz was the silent guardian of Iran's legends, Iranians did not leave time unmarked.

They used to divide the moon into thirty parts and give each part a name;

As if every morning was a gate to another world.

The first day was Ormazd;

The name of wisdom and creativity.

After him, an avalanche came, with a good thought;

Then Ardibehesht, the sign of truth and order;

And after that Shahrivar, Arman Shahriari Dadgar.

The fifth day was called Sepandarmaz;

The name of the earth, humility and seal;

The sixth was June;

Marking and perfection;

and the seventh, Amardad;

The name of immortality.

The days came one after the other:

Azar with fire

Aban with the glory of water,

brook with sunlight,

And the moon with the light it casts on the darkness of the night.

Then it was time to shoot;

A star whose name was associated with rain and hope.

Mehr was coming;

The name of the contract and lighting.

and then Bahram;

The name of victory and fighting force.

Thus, the days came and went;

But none of them were anonymous.

In the Iranian view, time was not only the passing of night and the coming of day;

Time was part of creation.

Every day had an address and every name carried with it a memory of the Minoan world, nature and human life.

Centuries passed.

Kings came and went;

The flags were raised and fell to the ground;

Languages ​​crossed borders and cultures intertwined.

Other names also found their way into the Iranian language;

Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

But the old names did not disappear.

The seal still breathes in our autumn,

Azar is still alive in our winter.

Bahman and Esfand are still sitting on the leaves of our calendar;

And yet, without knowing it, we speak a part of that distant world every day.

How amazing is the history of Iran;

A nation that counts the days too

give an identity to every day;

assigned a meaning to each name;

And he put time in his culture

that after thousands of years,

You can still hear the footsteps of the distant days

He heard it in words like "Mehr" and "Azer".

Days passed;

But the names remained.

And maybe this is the secret of the longevity of a culture:

What is written on the stone will wear out one day;

What flows on people's tongues,

It can live for thousands of years.

#behnammohtarami#

Night

(night)

The night began with your gaze and the moon

Behind the thin curtains of clouds,

Watching us sat in silence.

You were in front of me

and between us

a distance as big as a breath;

Breath that every time

getting closer

It makes me forget the world.

When your hand reached me,

candle

understood the meaning of burning;

And I understood

some kisses

Before they sit on the lips,

They make you restless.

you were calm

And I chaos;

But that night

Even my chaos

In the arms of your silence

He calmed down.

We stayed until dawn;

Not so that the night doesn't end.

Because love

take a chance

All his unsaid

between two hearts

whisper softly

and in the morning

When the first light

sit on your shoulders

I understood:

some nights

They are not for sleeping;

This is because Adam

once in a lifetime

all of himself

Leave it to someone

#behnammohtarami #

(شب)

شب از نگاه تو آغاز شد و ماه،

پشت پرده‌های نازک ابر،

تماشای ما را به سکوت نشست.

تو روبه‌رویم بودی

و میان ما

فاصله‌ای به اندازه‌ی یک نفس

نفسی که هر بار

نزدیک‌تر می‌شد،

جهان را از یادم می‌برد.

دستت که به دستم رسید،

شمع

معنای سوختن را فهمید

و من فهمیدم

بعضی بوسه‌ها

پیش از آن‌که بر لب بنشینند،

آدم را بی‌قرار می‌کنند.

تو آرام بودی

و من آشوب

اما در آن شب

حتی آشوب من

در آغوش سکوت تو

آرام گرفت.

تا سحر ماندیم

نه برای آن‌که شب تمام نشود،

برای آن‌که عشق

فرصت کند

تمام ناگفته‌هایش را

میان دو قلب

آهسته زمزمه کند.

و صبح،

وقتی نخستین نور

بر شانه‌هایت نشست،

فهمیدم

بعضی شب‌ها

برای خوابیدن نیستند؛

برای این‌اند که آدم

یک‌بار در تمام عمر

تمام خویش را

به یک نفر بسپارد.

#بهنام_محترمی#

I don,t want to die

I don't want to die

I don't want to die, although this world is full of pain

I still have passion, passion for dawn in my heart

I don't want to die, am I still full of life?

No, in my ruins, I find new hope

I still have words, I still have poems left

This rebellious heart still has thousands of wishes left

Although I am tired from the night, although the wound is many

The morning will still come, this story is still awake

I don't want to die to tell what was hidden

So that my cry will one day be heard by the sleeping ones

I don't want to die; I am still that [free].

If the world kills me, I will not die; in my poem

#behnammohtarami #

نمی خواهم بمیرم

نمی‌خواهم بمیرم، گرچه این دنیا پر از درد است

هنوزم در دلم شوق نفس، شوق سحر، هست

نمی‌خواهم بمیرم، من هنوز از زندگی سیرم؟

نه، در ویرانه‌های خویش، امیدی تازه می‌گیرم

هنوزم حرف‌ها دارم، هنوزم شعرها باقی‌ست

هنوز این قلب سرکش را هزاران آرزو باقی‌ست

اگرچه خسته‌ام از شب، اگرچه زخم بسیار است

هنوزم صبح خواهد آمد، هنوز این قصه بیدار است

نمی‌خواهم بمیرم، تا بگویم آنچه پنهان ماند

تا فریاد من روزی به گوش خفتگان افتد

نمی‌خواهم بمیرم؛ من هنوز آن [آزاده]ام

اگر دنیا مرا کشت، نخواهم مرد؛ در شعرم.

#بهنام_محترمی#

Human rights

حقوق بشر بر لب، ولی خون بر زمین

کجاست آن داد و انصاف شما، ای مدعیان؟

به مدرسه اگر آتش زند، کودک چه کرد؟

به جشن عروسی، آن مادرِ بی‌کس چه کرد؟

شما از صلح گفتید و جهان را خون گرفت

زبان‌تان حق بشر گفت و بشر را خون گرفت

نه بمب اتم، نه آتش، نه موشک افتخار

که از خاکستر کودک نمانَد جز غبار

شما را گر بشر بود آن‌که در آتش سوخت

چرا وجدان دنیا این‌چنین خاموش ماند؟

وحوش تندخو را گر به انسان نام نیست

حقوق بشر، بی‌جان انسان، احترام نیست

Human rights on the lips, but blood on the ground

Where is your fairness, you claimants?

What did the child do if the school was set on fire?

What did that lonely mother do to the wedding party?

You spoke of peace and the world was filled with blood

Your tongue said "human right" and it took human blood

No atom bomb, no fire, no rocket of honor

What remains of the child's ashes is nothing but dust

You were like a human being that was burned in the fire

Why did the conscience of the world remain silent like this?

A hot-tempered beast is not called a human

Human rights, inanimate human beings, are not respect

#Behnammohtarami_googel_com #

#بهنام_محترمی#

Hot death

hot death

They took the treasure and called it war

They brought a cure and made him invulnerable

There was laughter in the city

But behind the laughter

The sobs of thousands of houses were hidden

i

I became upside down

Tears on the face of the homeland

On the silent stone of the street

They returned the friend

was (voted)

The vote in the power market

It changes every day

They overturned the road

became (mad)

and the day

Because it was forced back

He sat down on the table

and bread

He got up from the table

They returned the acquaintance

became (essay)

Another acquaintance

We don't see it except in the essay book

in the city

the strangers

are more familiar

If I overturn death

It gets (warm).

And what a strange time this is

that death

of life

It has become warmer

But whatever you return the thief

He is a thief again

Take the wolf to any side of the mirror

It is a wolf again

and the pain

No matter how many words you change

It's the same pain again

So it's time

Do not reverse the words

Do not turn the truth upside down

which is a treasure if there is a war

Treatment if unfit

Friend, if you vote

the way if har

And day if force

What else is left?

Except people

that in the mirror of words

themselves

Do they see upside down?

#Behnam_Mohtarami

مرگ گرم

گنج را بردند و نامش را نهادند جنگ

درمان آوردند و از آن ساختند نامرد

قهقهه بر لب شهر بود

اما پشت خنده

هق‌هق هزاران خانه پنهان بود

من

وارونه که شدم[ نم ]شدم

نم اشکی بر گونهٔ وطن

بر سنگ خاموش خیابان

یار را برگرداندند

شد (رای)

رأیی که در بازار قدرت

هر روز عوض می‌شود

راه را واژگون کردند

(هار) شد

و روز

چون برگشت (زور) شد

زور بر سفره نشست

و نان

از سفره برخاست

آشنا را برگرداندند

شد (انشا)

دیگر آشنا را

جز در دفتر انشا نمی‌بینیم

در شهر

غریبه‌ها

آشناترند

مرگ را اگر واژگون کنم

(گرم)می‌شود

و این چه روزگار غریبی‌ست

که مرگ

از زندگی

گرم‌تر شده است

اما دزد را هرچه برگردانی

باز دزد است

گرگ را هر سوی آینه ببری

باز گرگ است

و درد را

هرقدر واژه عوض کنی

باز همان درد است

پس ای زمانه

کلمات را وارونه نکن

حقیقت را وارونه نکن

که گنج اگر جنگ شود

درمان اگر نامرد

یار اگر رأی

راه اگر هار

و روز اگر زور

دیگر چه می‌ماند

جز مردمی

که در آینه واژه‌ها

خودشان را

وارونه می‌بینند؟

#بهنام_محترمی#

Indebted to a Glance بدهکار یک نگاه

اول به دار آرام تو را
وانگه گرفتارت شوم

First, I’ll gently lay you on the gallows of love,
Then lose myself completely, caught in your love.

در کوی عشق روی تو
سرگشته و بیمارت شوم

In the alley of love for your face,
I’ll wander lost, lovesick, and undone.

گر تیغ هجران برکشی
من کشتهٔ دیدارت شوم

If you draw the sword of separation,
I’ll gladly die for one glimpse of you.

یک لحظه گر بنمایی رخ
صد ساله بدهکارت شوم

If only for a moment you reveal your face,
I’ll owe you my heart for a hundred years.

#behnammohtarami#

The pond

[The Pond]

There was a pond where, for years, two groups of old fish ruled:

one called themselves reformists, the other conservatives.

Both prescribed remedies for the pond,

spoke of water, the future, and staying in their homeland,

but when it came to their own children,

they quietly took them out of the water and sent them toward the sea.

They would say:

“The sea is a better place;

they will have a future there.”

But the people’s young fish were kept in the same pond—

the very place where a fish-eating bird circled above them every day.

Every morning, the heron would come

and snatch one of the young fish.

The old fish would watch and say:

“What a tragedy...”

But the next day,

another young fish would become its victim.

And stranger still,

their own children were never in the pond.

They were swimming in distant seas,

growing up in safer waters,

while the old fish prayed for them from that very pond.

Years passed.

The pond became empty of the young

and crowded with old fish.

They stayed too long,

rotted too long,

and the water of the pond became so stagnant

that even the heron no longer came for them.

One day, the heron landed on a branch and said:

“These are no longer prey;

they are the very smell of death.”

And the pond finally understood

that what remained was neither life nor politics;

only an army of old fish

who had sent their own children to the sea

while leaving the children of the people

to become prey for the heron.

#Behnammohtarami_googel_com #

The rose_garden of love

The Rose-Garden of Love

Harm not, attack not, boast not, nor lament;

What gain is there in hatred, or pride in wealth?

Do not let the thorns of this world wound your heart,

Nor carve your soul upon the throne of fortune.

If your garden grants you the fragrance of love,

Do not let the thorns of hatred grow in love’s rose-garden.

For in the end, neither hatred nor treasure remains;

Blessed is the one who leaves this world having brought no sorrow.

گلزار عشق

میاز و متاز و مناز و مرنج

چه بازی به کین و چه نازی به گنج

نه بر خار دنیا دل خویش خراش

نه بر تخت اقبال دل را بتراش

اگر گل به باغت دهد بوی عشق

مکن خار کینه ز گلزار عشق

که آخر ز گیتی نه کین ماند و نه گنج

خوشا آن‌که رفت و نیاورد رنج

#behnammohtarami#

#بهنام_محترمی#

I’ve fallen in love

I saw you, and suddenly reason lost its way,
Your eyes fell on me, and love became my fate.

You rested your head upon your knees,
And I surrendered my heart to you.

Who are you,
That with one glance
You stole my peace, my patience, my soul?

You were only a picture—
Yet you entered my heart,
And from the moment I saw you,
I fell in love.

#behnammohtarami#

The sun of love

[The sun of love]

Ner Chu went in the arms of love

He died and passed out

The female ate him, O alert one

Death became the birth of Jan Negar

The seed was not hidden in the soil

There was no blush on Bostan's face

He loves to give himself up

Don't put your life on the path of your beloved

Whoever passes [I] becomes (us).

If it drops, it will drown in the sea

Love is the custom of spiders and humans

[My] death is the beginning of the path of sadness

Until you see the bite of the fire of love

When will you talk to the sun of love

#Behnam_Mohtarami

On your chest

on your chest

If they sell the world at a glance, I will stop buying heaven just because of your breasts.

There is the beginning of peace in the world, where the thousand-year fatigue of men melts silently like snow on the sun.

Your breasts are not made of flesh, they are of shelter, two dawns that take my displaced nights to the bright embrace of love.

Whenever I put my head on that paradise, time stopped moving, and my heart, like a dove released from a cage, wrote your name on the silent sky of the world.

If one day death knocks on the door of my house, before I close my eyes to the world, I have no wish except that the last beat of my heart falls into an eternal sleep under the shelter of your breasts.

Because love is immortalized sometimes not in words but between two heartbeats of the beloved.

Love in middle age

Love in middle age

No, that is youth fever

that comes with a breeze and leaves with a look;

middle age love

because it is the old roots of the plantain,

It slowly sinks into the depths of the soul

And the storm is not able to tear it.

in middle age,

Love is no longer a fire of straw;

There is a fire in the oven of the old baker.

quiet,

But it bakes the bread of life.

The heart of these years

He no longer trembles at every smile;

But if it trembles,

He shakes with himself all his life.

love in middle age

because the autumn rain is tired on a garden;

wants no bloom,

no excuses spring,

Only the yellow leaves of sadness

It slowly falls from the shoulder of the tree.

who said

Is love the share of youth?

sometimes god

The most beautiful wine of love

The heart pours into the old cup;

for a person to know

Maturity is another name for love.

at this age

Holding the lover's hand

It is not less than conquering the world;

Because they both know

that love is no longer a game of looks;

It is a pact between two souls

who have gone through thousands of failures

and still

They have not lost the courage to love.

#behnammohtarami#

Swallow silent

swallow silent

It was a swallow that returned to the same old branch every spring with a thousand hopes.

He had entrusted his heart to a window through which a hand had waved to him one day.

He flew from the farthest skies, passed through wind and rain, just to see his friend's eyes once more.

But the window had been closed for years.

The swallow sits on the same branch every evening, sings a quiet song and leaves its tears to the rain in the silence of the night.

The springs came and went but no one called his name.

until that cold morning

The swallow did not fly anymore

The wind hugged his small and tired body and the sky lost one of its most beloved birds forever

Since that day, whenever spring comes and a swallow sits on a silent branch, they say that maybe it is still the soul of the swallow that flies over the world in search of its lost love.

#Behnam_Mohtarami#

Look

(look)

First

Your look came and a quiet fire poured into me

No fire to burn

The fire of the lamp that lit the way of the heart

Your hand reached me

The world was silent for a moment

As if we were not two

We were two travelers for years

They were looking for each other

Love slowly takes root in us

In the laughter in the breath

Near two hearts

who had forgotten the distances.

Your arms became the altar of peace

where body and soul

They were freed from separation

And the prayer kiss was silent

For the arrival of two eager souls

At that moment when love reached its perfection

Neither I stayed nor you

Two names are missing

And only one feeling remained

deliverance

Like a drop lost in the sea

But for the first time

He understands the meaning of being

#Behnam_Mohtarami_

Intellect

intellect

Poor is the one who is caught by reason

He did not taste the wind of madness and was captured

In Koi Eshgh, whoever kept his account

Because a drop remained and failed to join the whole

It wouldn't be madness if the curtain disappeared

Then he saw what happened in this house

The butterfly laughed at the wisdom of the wise

Because the end of the flame of life was connected to the heart

Farhad threw an ax into the heart of the mountain and suffered

Because love came and became the commander of action

Intellect remained thirsty from the table of secrets

The heart that burned became the sacred cup of Salsabil

They said that the path of love is dangerous and full of blasts

He laughed and left, whatever the trouble was, it became honey itself

Finally, he washed his hands and left

The drop of Chu disappeared into the sea and became the mirror of eternity

#Behnam_Mohtarami#

World of lies

[world of lies]

O God, I am sick of this wind

I am free and unaware of myself

I have not tasted anything from the world of lies

I have come to you with tears and mourning

I have not come for fame and name

No, I have come for a message

I gave you my heart without knowing why

I didn't see anyone familiar with the world except you

Whatever it was, it passed by me

You are the only one with a big heart

I have come tired from the world

With a lonely heart to the shelter of the world

Although it is a sin and the fault is in me

You are the one who is loyal to me

You are the essence of my life

Have mercy on my bewildered heart

#Behnam_Mohtarami

Rope

[rope]

someone every day me

till you have feet

He imagines

He excuses the rope

and its absence

The reason for surviving the execution

and me

every day

in silent silence

i will die

not once

Not a complete death

But thousands of incomplete deaths

Along his gaze

he stands

And he watches me

without knowing

The handsless killer is my everyday

No, it bleeds

No, he shouts

there is only

And that's it

Executes the sentence

I fall every day

I sink into myself

In no one after the fall

And he

It will come back tomorrow

with the same look

With the same silence

With the rope not being the same

And I open

You didn't come

I will be entrusted

#Behnam_Mohtarami

Majnoon cried

She cried madly at night

Blood fell from the sight of Hajar Yar

Go to the door of God

O hidden knower, teller of secrets

Why did you set fire to my chest?

Did you fall in love with me?

If the end of this path was pain

Why was the beginning of that smile?

A call came from the throne of glory

That you are lost in illusion

I am the love that blew into your soul

He felt the light of joy in his heart

I am the secret that runs in your blood

I went into hiding because life is hidden

You consider Lily as my symbol

Enjoy the sun in the shade

His face is a mirror of mine

The sound of love is my conversation

I am the passion that sat in your soul

which reached from the dust to the misery

If you have a crush on him

You haven't come out yet

From the love of the earth to the heavens

Guide the heart to the pure

I am that endless sea of light

You are confused and far away from the drop in demand

You passed Lily at night

You see me in every leaf and lip

Know that every love is pure and clear

He brought his lover to Vasal

There was no Lily and no name

May love be eternal

Let the curtain rise finally

Do not see except me, dear man

that from the beginning to the end of the way

I am a lover, I am a refuge

#behnammohtarami#

Iranian lion

Iranian lion

Ghorio Delir came to the field

Cho Alborz rose Iran Cho Shir

On the one hand, the Zionists are cunning

On the one hand, America for the sake of the name

with trickery and fire with iron and arrows

Agitated on the old lion's grove

But the lion of Iran is loud

Keep the border and keep the fence

Kai wind roared and deceived

You don't have dominion over the soil of the sun

Not from the fear of the storm, not from the hot wound

Wrap up the mane of Azarcharagh

He has opened his grudge

From the elusive roar from Faraz's neck

One has the name of America on its flag

One is the Zionist stamp on his knowledge

But the lion said to the earth

There is no oppression in the heart of the pure land

If it gets dark, it's night

May the dawn rise from the heart of the mountains

that Iran is a lion in the campaign

May God bless you and Yar

#Behnam_Mohtarami#

Iranian lion

Iranian lion

Ghorio Delir came to the field

Cho Alborz rose Iran Cho Shir

On the one hand, the Zionists are cunning

On the one hand, America for the sake of the name

with trickery and fire with iron and arrows

Agitated on the old lion's grove

But the lion of Iran is loud

Keep the border and keep the fence

Kai wind roared and deceived

You don't have dominion over the soil of the sun

Not from the fear of the storm, not from the hot wound

Wrap up the mane of Azarcharagh

He has opened his grudge

From the elusive roar from Faraz's neck

One has the name of America on its flag

One is the Zionist stamp on his knowledge

But the lion said to the earth

There is no oppression in the heart of the pure land

If it gets dark, it's night

May the dawn rise from the heart of the mountains

that Iran is a lion in the campaign

May God bless you and Yar

#Behnam_Mohtarami#

Caron,s guard

Caron's guard

In the name of God

that gives free people passion and purity

Chu Iranzmin was in grief and fear

The hearts of the people were filled with anxiety

From all sides, a cloud of trickery blew

It was hidden in the curtain of a hundred kinds of secrets

Karun roared into a long wave

O man of Iran, don't be poor

Lest the stranger come by force

Your clean soil is dark and salty

In that plain, there is a man standing on a mountain

In the name of Abdul Sarafraz and Yar

He did not want gold from the throne, nor wire and treasure

which was freedom, capital and suffering

He was gathered by Deliran Il

To a man, Chu Azar is as fast as a flood

He said this and died with pride

The homeland should not be left to others

If the wind of sedition blows from the ambush

Let's stay like a mountain on this earth

Do not give up out of fear

We don't want to make a pact with our enemies

that Iran was an eternal mother

May these brave souls be sacrificed.

The sound of chickens came from the grove

who saw a difficult time ahead

Hami said the old man late at night

Let the day of blood be the day of sword and arrow

If the man is not in the field, he is brave

Let the garden of Iran be captured by the desert.

The fog has cleared from the heart of the sky

The dust of suspicion arose from all sides

Abdul called to his companions

It's time to test when it's bad

Fasten your zeal belt

that the enemy threw an ax at the root of fortune

Not for the sake of name and not for the sake of bread

May Iran remain forever young

In this way, the first sheet was widened

A man who loves his country

This was still the first step

that rises from every side of the sound of the fan

Then the second book will appear

They turned around and disappeared from the ambush

On the plains, on the mountain, and on the river

Let the roar of the Cho Dud army come.

Mohamrah, Shab Karon

The sun was hidden from the mountains and plains

The cloud cast blackness on the river and killed it

That wave of Karun Cho Shir roared

that carries the sound of swords and arrows

In Mohamrah, the army's call was raised

That came the time of battle and battle

Abdul Delir is the guardian of the soil

Belted with agile people

He said this to the group of men

May the soil of Iran be humiliated

If he dies, the name of Iran will remain

If he dies, the pledge of friends will remain.

Chu night closed the water and the wind

Sepahi z Nizar shouted

The roaring riders arrived from all sides

Brave people blew from all sides

Karun was upset by Sam'stor

By lightning and trumpet blast

Among the ships, that Khan is tired

Sitting in his own thoughts

He was neither sleepy nor in the mood

Hami was moaning about that water and mud

Abdul Chubarq from among the army

He came to the action of the sun and the moon

He said: It was not easy for the blood

Because of this, no city was destroyed

Close his hand but it doesn't sting

that Iran does not want to hold a grudge

They passed through Karun to Isfahan

On difficult roads and mountains and borders

Chu is near the city of that brave man

He descended from the horse like a lion and a wolf

He told his companions to leave now

Let this be a captive from the midst of calamity

History itself is the judge of this

He writes to future generations

I didn't get it from Keen, nor from Behrganj

that Iran did not remain a prisoner of two sufferings

He said and untied the rope

He released it due to the grace of the times

That brave young man stood far away

He kept the caravan on its way

Hami said with the wind of the plain and Sepehr

Let Iran stay, let Mehr stay

that whoever enters this soil is oppressed

Finally, the day and the tail will turn from him.

Marriage of Abdul and Nist Darjahan Bahrami

In the name of God the sun and the moon

Iran was the base thanks to his grace

Chu Abdul, brave, heart-aware, Dehr

It appeared on the back of the seal and on the lap of the seal

He loved the old country

The name of Iran is on the lips and the heart is full of passion

You do not ask for gold, nor crowns and jewels

All his wish is to glorify this land

In those days, there was hope

A flower sprouted from the grass

Negar Bahar is not in that world

Cho Meh in Bagh and Hesar Shabestan

To the long knowledge and to the familiar seal

His heart is bright with light and peace

Abdul's eyes fell on him

He gave his heart and everything he had

They said no, from the treasure, the palace, and the back

It was about Iran and soil and trees

under the sphere and as evidence of time

The two hearts made a lasting pact

Someone said that I sacrificed my life for my country

Another said, you are my soul and body companion

The connection between the sun and the moon

Collapsed on the soil of Pegah Iran

The brave men gathered together

According to the agreement of a man according to the religion of Dem

Who is the guardian of his homeland

It was his dedication and cheapness

They sang together loudly

May the homeland not be under chains

And that house became the center of love and peace

The house of hope and the house of loyalty

By the grace of Almighty God

It became the source of love and cuteness

And from that house the children of Chu Noor

He shone on the roof of this border

The sweet blossom of the garden of hope

That his smile blew the buds

Young Arslan Chu Shir Jian

Brave and proud and enemy breakers

Shiroviyeh is wise and has a clear conscience

The dark night light of a teacher

Salat is a symbol of loyalty and giving

May his name be well remembered

And Siddiqa, that pure lady

Chu rain mercy on the world

It happened that from the seal of Yar and Yar

There is a light in this day and age

which was eternal until the name of Iran

Let the story of those lovers remain

Shirmardi arrived from Eilat

The mountain trembled from its awe

Abdul that brave rider of time

Guardian of the borders and hearts of the people

There was no gold chain, no throne and crown

All his wishes are glory and Raj

He heard it in a house on the other side of the city

A burning light nest

He was a girl whose name is not in the world

Chu moonlight in the sky at night

Father, Farajullah is a wise man

who suffered in the way of the constitution

He was famous for his wisdom and knowledge

The light of politics was in that house

Chu Abdul went to visit that house

The heart went to Farzaneh from Mehr of that month

No, their bond is based on wire and gold

which is from the love of Iran, soil and art

Faraj said: If the arm of manhood

It reaches knowledge, the result of freedom.

Abdul bowed his head in respect

Zafar did not remain without a wise opinion.

It happened that the bond of love and wisdom

He created a new ritual for a house

One blade on the floor for battle

One vote for hope

They said about that promise, old and young

who became one in the world for fighting and wisdom

#Behnam_Mohtarami#

Homayun zadegan zahra

Humayun Zadegan Zahra

In the name of God the sun and the moon

which is decorated with gate to give and to the way

Z. Ahmad came up with two tall cedars

Two brilliant suns

Two gems from the sea of God's grace

Two blades of certainty in the line of prophets

Humayunzadegan Zahra do Shir

Two heartwarming rounds of two brave men

One is Hassan Farrokh Forough, for sure

The lamp of wisdom adorns the religious people

Degar Hossein that Lieutenant General Sawar

That trembled from the call of the times

Chu Mehr came out of Zahra's lap

His light is more than the sun and the face

They forced Haider's arm

He was blinded by their awe

Chu Hasan Aide blows from Safa's door

It gives loyalty to every heart of Golestan

Chu Hussain came into the middle of the battle

The heart of the mountain trembled with fear

Two Shah Humayun, two crowns of honor

Two seas of kindness, two targets

They are not only from the generation of the Prophet

who fly on the throne of Yazdan Chu Akhtar

Homayunzadegan Zahra named

They instilled ritual and taste

If Ferdowsi writes this story

He sings and praises his long name

Iran and Islam are from him Forough

It has taken forever

May God's blessings be upon you

On those two tall imams of the community

which was up to the revolving wheel on the circuit

Their names were alive in the past

#Behnam_Mohtrami

Abdul is not in the world

Abdul is not in the world

To the day when the circle of time sat down

From the merry-go-round, fate came and is

Two names emerged from the heart of the day

One is Abdul from a famous family

His father Ismail, Asmanzad Kouh

which was in his chest Azar Shkoveh

Change the Iranian girl to Farrah Boland

[Not in the world] they gave him admonition

His mother Iran Cho Darya Noor

who was in his life a patient love

Father of Farajullah Bahrami Setreg

From him, songs and leaves were written

The seal of two lines, the connection of life

One of them is an eternal promise

In that palm grove to the lap of the plain

A new story passed through the heart of Iran

Khorramabad is the land of fire

The story drips from his stone

They built a fortress there

The barracks were heartbroken

Not of raw stone from a steadfast heart

Because of zeal, because of the pact, because of the love of the land

Abdul stepped on that soil

that here was the border between wakefulness and memory

Say: Iran, you are my soul

You are my crown, sword and faith

And [not in the world] that white cedar

His heart was set on fire because of love for the country

He said: This fortress is not a house

which is the religion of legendary men

They made a pact in front of the mountain

That covenant became higher than the moon and the well

He was surrounded by young men

Everyone's heart became a mountain

No fear, no fear, no broken color

that Iran sat in this eternal covenant

This is how the name of Abdul and that writer remained

To date, like Naqsh Zarinnagar

If every mountain hears this sound

He should say: Khrushhid Iranfaza

#Behnam _Mohtarami#Abdel is not in the world#