Poem

We learn the love lessons in the School of the war
We learn the way of shock action in the war
As the wrath of our Lord that burns the enemies
We triumph as we kill or die
I wish I would be accompanying the blithe
To serve the wakeful at their altars
I wish I reflex the song of the rain
On the petals of the crystal flowers
My heart is the reflecting the best terms
The pain the tears and the grief are its range
O Coadjutors! The pain of heart is ever lasting
No tears can heal it
Who whispers the words of love?
Where is the commotion of the devotedness shore?
Then where are the martyred friends
The lovers of the way of the Holy Quran
Those wearing sash going towards Karbala
The leaders of love but genuine
Where are the mobilized forces of the plain in Khaki?
The fragmented tulips of the Vafajer 8 Operation
I wish I had accompanied them
And changed into rain from a clean cloud


Oh! The burnt doves
Oh! The fragmented red tulip
The fire of the tears of all palms
The burnt green spruce figure
Oh! Martyr you was from the lovers’ land
From the anemones’ land whose redoubts burnt
The beheaded men of the event plain


Their sashes had burnt before them
The ethos in my house of sense
My memoirs had burnt without my brother


We should consider the entire world as Karbala
And to whisper the name of God all the time
To clear the communion of the atrocious men
And to let Hosseins lead us


I asked him about his heart and he replied full of hope
I asked about his word and he replied: it is the motto of monotheism
I asked him the correct way to go and he replied:
The way through which the martyrs pass


Those who told us the secretes of the dawn
Glared at night like as the meteor
Awakened the other companions
They albeit themselves rested in the bed of blood


Oh! You are far from the black night
It is dawn and it is a gift for you
The galaxy of your sunny wounds
Is the leading way towards you?