And her name is freedom

By: Louk Vreeswijk

Dec 16 2018

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Category: Iran, Middle East

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Focal Length:40.7mm
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She saw me looking intently at the reliefs on a wall of Persepolis. She asked if I liked them. She was sitting on a bench and offered me some nuts. I sat down next to her and we started talking, about the art, about my country, about hers. She was still living at home in nearby Shiraz, with her parents and siblings. She loved her family, she loved Shiraz. She spoke very frankly and animated, telling me every now and then to take more of the nuts. She wanted to improve her English because she thought of trying to go abroad. Because of the difficult situation in her country. When she told me her name she said her name meant freedom.

Had she lived in the 14th century, she would certainly have inspired her illustrious fellow townsman Hafiz to one of his lyrical poems.

A rose blooms within me, wine is in my hand,
And my beloved embraced.
My eyes are always on red lips
And on the circulating cup.
In our assembly bring no rose perfumes,
We breathe the fragrance of your long hair.
Do not praise to me the taste of sugar,
For my desire is satisfied on your sweet lip.
Hafiz, do not sit one moment without your love or wine,
For these are days of rose, jasmine and celebration.

Will wine and time for celebration one day come back to the sons and daughters of Shiraz?

(Translation of part of an ode of Hafiz by R.M. Rehder)

Photo of the week: Freedom, Shiraz-Persepolis, Iran 2017

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