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Based on the 'tweets' of a medical student, single parent (let's call him Muhammad), between Monday 15th and Friday 19th June 2009. In his messages he referred to his daughter as Azadeh (Farsi for 'freedom fighter', as I understand, for I don't speak the language) - I believe the name was symbolic rather than actual, and therefore I also use it here with its double meaning. |
| Azadeh © Copyright George Papavgeris, June 2009 There's a body lying on the table On the bed two more, but they are stable Just three nameless victims of their courage And he doesn't even have a bandage But he does the best that he can manage And he thinks of little Azadeh From mid-morning everyday they gather Sons and daughters of a million mothers In the sea of green to drown the fakers The unholy movers and the shakers Those who make the laws and the lawbreakers Those who want to shackle Azadeh They're his friends and neighbours and relations With a hunger spanning generations But his skills are needed so they hide him On the street basiji try to find him On the news announcers try to blind him And to take away his Azadeh He would rather wear the green beside them Asking for the freedom that's denied them But they bring him wounded from the slaughter And he hopes one day to be a doctor And he hopes to see again his daughter Little bright canary, Azadeh Working with no rest since Monday morning As he keys a message there's a warning In the hall there's creaking of the timbers In his heart the ice of countless winters Then the door falls in a million splinters As he cries for freedom: 'Azadeh!' |
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