THE HOMILY OF PERDITION¹ - Naderpour composed this poem in 1984, five years after the revolution, while he was living in exile in Paris and Khomeini was still alive. February 1984. Translated by Farhad Mafie, January 1989

For Imam Ommat
(Ayatollah Khomeini, “The People’s Imam”)

O, infernal nature! Although the oppression of the sky
gave you the heritage of my land,
under the mirthful sun of that land
your hand planted nothing but the seed of inhumanity.
It is time to inform you what you have planted.

Till the moment that your death message arrives
O, despicable man!
Till the moment that your wicked blood flows
on the cold cobblestone,
Let me compose an anthem to your annihilation.

In my eyes you are a black wind that suddenly
has stolen several thousand young leaves.
After the sun’s death your dark spirit closed
several thousand thrilled eyes
to the morning and opened them to the night.

The starless nights that mothers’ eyes mourned tears
running down their cheeks for their children.
In your cold eyes, O, you iniquitous man!
No one has seen compassion nor read repentance.

The white-haired elderly that on the tombstone slab
have written the names of their loved ones
are crying blood in your days,
harvesting what they have never planted.

Although you removed the lion’s image and the face of the sun
from the three-colored flag of champions,
their memories are still the source of our enthusiasm.
And although the name of that eloquent Shahnameh writer²
was stolen from the books and tomes,
only his holy voice exists in our thoughts.

Wait till the groans of your prisoners
are too loud to fit in their chests,
let the people’s tears flood and their blood run
till red roses of revenge grow from the earth.

Wait till the morning of revenge
when you get up from your morning sleep
and young and old, small and big, scream
O, black-hearted devil!
Your death will be celebrated by all men and women,
your name will be removed from the journey of time …