Negin Joon, this was beautifully written, and I love hearing your voice too.
I've been reading this poem for so many years, and would like to share it with you too, which I think is so relevant to those who are back home leading the movement.
(Poem by Ahmad Shamloo) called; Children of the Depths
They thrive,
In the town of no street,
In the stale web of dead-end lanes,
In the bosom of smoke, drug and pain,
Talismans in thir pocket and stones in hands.
The children of the depths!
The children of the depths!
They thrive.
**&**
The cruel swamp of fate in front,
The lash of thrown fathers on their back,
Ears filled with their shattered mothers’ curse,
In a void of hope,
their future crushed in their clinched fists,
The children of the depths,
The children of the depths,
They thrive.
**&**
They flourish,
In the forest of no spring,
On the trees of no yield,
In the fields of no harvest,
The children of the depths!
The children of the depths!
They chant with a bleeding throat,
They carry an unbending flag in their hands,
They bear the banner of pain on their shoulders,
The children of the depths!
The children of the depths,
They thrive.
Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani, January 2009, Montreal.
Negin Joon, this was beautifully written, and I love hearing your voice too.
I've been reading this poem for so many years, and would like to share it with you too, which I think is so relevant to those who are back home leading the movement.
(Poem by Ahmad Shamloo) called; Children of the Depths
They thrive,
In the town of no street,
In the stale web of dead-end lanes,
In the bosom of smoke, drug and pain,
Talismans in thir pocket and stones in hands.
The children of the depths!
The children of the depths!
They thrive.
**&**
The cruel swamp of fate in front,
The lash of thrown fathers on their back,
Ears filled with their shattered mothers’ curse,
In a void of hope,
their future crushed in their clinched fists,
The children of the depths,
The children of the depths,
They thrive.
**&**
They flourish,
In the forest of no spring,
On the trees of no yield,
In the fields of no harvest,
The children of the depths!
The children of the depths!
They chant with a bleeding throat,
They carry an unbending flag in their hands,
They bear the banner of pain on their shoulders,
The children of the depths!
The children of the depths,
They thrive.
Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani, January 2009, Montreal.
✊🏾✊🏾✊🏾 always. Thank you for this rallying cry. Beyond inspired by the spirit of Iranian women everywhere.