four columns

One hundred and twenty years
Iran's moon shines through the oil smoke.
And the shadow of a family
It has fallen on three cities and one castle.

in Khuzestan,
Amir Masoud, with black oil eyes,
put the presidency of SAVAK on the flames of labor,
The south wind smells of blood
And the palms were crying from exhaustion.

in Tehran,
Mohammad Khan, with an English smile,
signed on the shadows,
In the basement of Shemiran,
The phones were buzzing
And at night, it was repeated in the barracks.

in Qom,
Morteza Handi,
planted the seeds of silence in the cells,
He stained the turbans with the smell of politics,
And in the hearts of the students,
Plant next month

in Khomin
Salar Mohtsham, in a castle with a Napoleonic hat,
He smiled at the stone wall of history.
He built a house for his brother in Chale Soreh.
Two symbols on both sides of the same destiny.
One from the East, one from Farang.

And us?
We are still under these four sleepless pillars
We eat dry bread with oil.
While from the sky of the moon,
The eyes of London follow us.

Abadan is still burning,
Rex still burns.
and the name of Iran,
In the office of the same family
It is re-signed every year.

#Mohammed_Al_Afteh