In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful

He would come with the gentle bubbling of the samovar with the tickle of the bright light of day under my eyelid with the warm caresses of the sun's hand on my hair with the sweet spread cloth on the carpet... and he would take me with him to play tag seven stones candle, flower, butterfly and free song free laughter ring after ring, chasing each other in the lane... He would come and take me with him to jump over the fire to the side of the haft-sin to watch the dance of the fish in the crystal bowl – the shiny, playful goldfish endless dance – and the sound of the lute and drum at the threshold of tomorrow's open gate my hand was in his hand together we laughed with the whole world, with today, with tomorrow at night he kissed me "Well! Good night!" I kissed him with all my heart; and the sound of his heart I heard in my sleep – kind and calm – with its rhythm I passed through the darkness. Morning would come with the peals of his laughter his caresses... "He" was not a whip on my spine he was not a nail turning in my eye. He was not a sword cutting at my throat he was not a baton, pounding my skull. He was not a usurper he did not usurp "the only chance to think of God" from me. He was not the hangman's rope stoning and stone he was not. He was not a fist on my small mouth on the crystal bowl. He was not a monster with a face hidden under a black mask "This" is not "he"! I'm afraid, I'm afraid... What have they done to him? Tell me Have you not seen him? – he was kind and forgiving – Why are you silent? ... have they killed him?