Majid Naficy: Kabul
But larks have not forgotten to fly
And grass still sprouts from the earth of Kabul
And rivers are replenished by the snows of Pamirs
And the groves of Samangan are filled with sounds of birds.
Majid Naficy: A Little Girl’s Rebellion
At seven o’clock in the morning
As I pass by a green house
An automatic sprinkler
Suddenly goes off
And wets me head to toe.
Kaveh Bassiri: Afterword
In the Quran, God taught Adam the names of all things. Even the angels didn’t know the names. Do we carry the weight of these words with us? Do they hold us responsible?
Kaveh Bassiri: Writing Persian
During the hostage crisis, when I was Albanian,
my history teacher conceded, “You’ve to be born into English
to be its rightful citizen.” I wanted to be an American poet,
but was a Persian settler.
Ari Honarvar: When Savoring a Pleasant Moment is a Radical Act
And then someone from another rooftop shouted a verse of Rumi’s poetry into the clear night air.
Majid Naficy: Corpse of the Revolution
I do not wait for poetry
But go in search of it
Because my wings are broken
And I am left far from my nest…
Majid Naficy: Visiting the Moon
I was fifteen years old
When I found the moon in the Biabanak sand dunes.
Majid Naficy: Great Feast
Death, like a weary actress
Has gone behind the stage
To take off her black dress
And put on her lounging gown.
Majid Naficy: Sweet Accent
I like the sweet accent
Heard on the stairs this morning:
Persian with a hint of American.
Kevin Zeese and Margaret Flowers: The US must grow up and respect Iranian Independence
One of the lessons from our recent visit to Iran as a Peace Delegation is that Iran is a mature country. It is 2,500 years old, ten times as old as … Continue reading
Mohammad Omidvar: How did the Iranian Revolution go so far off the rails?
. Even though it has to wage much of its struggle underground, the Tudeh Party of Iran, 40 years after the overthrow of the autocratic U.S.-installed Shah, continues the fight … Continue reading
Kareem Tayyar: Tempests
We are sitting in the nature garden on the southern side of the campus. It is dark, and the autumn wind has picked up her ancient violin. We are talking … Continue reading
Kareem Tayyar: The Prince of Shiraz
This is your country. You know which wells you can climb down before nightfall, Which wells will be dry even after the autumn rains, Which wells have paintings on the … Continue reading
Majid Naficy: The Signs of My Mother
Oh high moon! What are you waiting for? Follow your path quickly And carry my message to Isfahan From the window of my bedroom. My mother is still awake And … Continue reading
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