A Poem For Neda (Elections In Iran)

Neda. Sweet voice, Of freedom, unborn. Your state totters. A colour revolution. Green, for life, Of reason, faith; Red for blood, The price you paid. And you have betrayed Your colour, you Whose voices rise Above your people Who cast your black sky Over all voices; Who hide behind Arms and words; Who cringe Behind your flag. Tears will find you out. And you too, betray Your colour, you who Watch from afar, In fear, who flirt With freedom’s name; Who smile unshamed As tyrants old or new Play your cards for you. Tears will blind your smiles. You who love Your daughters, sons, Let the green of earth be Your colour: Let your love give birth To the Islam which your poets dreamed. Let your voice, which sang Before, of golden Persia, In Sa’adi, Hafez, Rumi, Now return, to sing Our future. Let your sweet voice Sing from the cold earth Of sweet democracy Buried in its birth. Dreaming to be Born.