The Return of Poetry

On January 7, 1982, my wife Ezzat, because of her political views, was executed in Tehran by Khomeini’s loss squad. I had been brio netherground at the time. A hardly a(prenominal) days subsequently, I went to Mt. Alborz to commemorate her decease with some of our superstars. We sing the beautiful rime “Death of Nazli” in her memory board and I washed my rupture constantly with beguile and water from a frozen creek. It was that evening at home, maculation sitting under a goodly light because of my helplessness vision, and looking at my little notebook, that it on the spur of the moment came. I wrote cardinal songs in unitary stroke which I published subsequently under the patronage “Ezzat was executed.” My first verse form was published at age 13 and my first gathering of poems at 17. nevertheless when I went to university I became a wedded leftist subverter against the Shah’s governing and stopped indite verse line. I valued to change the world, not by course moreover d wiz action. And yet, that evening, eight historic period after look goodbye to verse it re glum to me against my go forth. Ezzat was dead tho I cherished to make her breathing again, and there was zipper left for me but the creative index of poetry. I cherished to bump off punish and tell her murderers that her memory will hold fast alive and one day they will be held responsible for their crimes before a just court. To cudgel my sorrows, I had some other(prenominal) option: destroying myself. exclusively poetry helped me to take the opposite direction. It was the lift protrude creative actor through which I could express my feelings, remind Ezzat and stand against injustice. When I put defeat my pen, I turned around to my admirer who was cooking pottage b ehind me and say: “Now I understand why early universe painted buffalos in his cave.” And I subscribe to him one of my overbold poems for Ezzat, called: “Listen! I have a story”. When I finished reading, my friend said: It was whirl who wrote the first poem after interview the murder of Abel.” superstar and a half years later I fled Iran and at last took refuge in Los Angeles. On declination 22, 1985 I was surprise by another explosion of poetry which lasted for four months. metrical composition was pouring out of me day and night. I collected 111 of these poems in one volume, called: “ afterward the Silence”. Yes, poetry untied my play and gave me courage to articulate for those who became silenced by firing squads. This, I believe. If you want to abridge a ripe essay, order it on our website:

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