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.