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Foad Manshady - Ghamnameh (sorrow letter)

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Uploaded by on May 5, 2009

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Lyrics English:
Verse 1:
It's quiet everywhere
Still, I hear my own heartbeats,
I swear in the sacred name of Iran, in the name of its pure earth and waters,
That silence is a sin!
And I will put it all off my chest,
That way might break free from the sorrow,
Cause I don't want to feel ashamed of myself like guys out there,
The guys out there saying" Why I had been blindfolded for 30 years??"
So you people are ashamed of yourselves? SO am I! Perhaps even more than you!
Where were all of you when Mona kissed the gallows rope?
She wore the shrouding instead of bride's gown,
Now go explain to those ignorant ones,
That killing and invasion is not right, it's evil!
You would know that good enough if you were humane,
You are going to pay for your deeds here in this world,
Why should three teachers be in the prison?
Now all of you together say "O Thou God from Whom relief and help is sought most urgently Prayer for Urgent Needs

hook ( x2)
There are things here that I want to say,
That might chase away my sorrow,
It's my right to speak out: Don't you ask me to compromise!
There had always been a voice calling upon me from above,
I have pledged Myself not to forgive any mans injustice

verse 2:
They tell me not to sing of politics, of religion,
Alright then, sit down; let me tell you of my childhood,
Let me tell you how they hurt my roots, my stems,
You tell me yourself, from where should I begin my letter of sorrow?
Should I start from executions, stoning, and waves of unrest?
Or the slogans written on the walls, or the insults?
Should I begin the story with my being expelled from the school as I scored the best?
Or until I was 7, sleeping on a wet mattress?
To prevent the nightmares keeping an open pair of scissors under my pillow?
I prefer to go to hell, since all the idle haajis are in heaven
I recall my school teacher, the one of religion,
With the mark of prostration on his forehead,
The same teacher who forced this impure student, To do the noon's prayers,
And what I did was praying toward my own holy place, in that scared direction,
And what he did was insanely kicking me out,

hook (x2)

verse 3:
The regret I bear has bloomed from within, and the flowers of love which were once blooming,
Just withered,
My destiny so far had been but discrimination,
They hate me so much because I am Baha'i,
I swear in the name of anything you believe in, that I am Irani! [ Iranian]
In my songs how can I reflect the games reality played?
That the lock of our shop they would adorn with bullshit?
You killed grandpa in the days you kept him imprisoned,
At least have mercy on the tombstone of his grave!
In the dirt of the bodies you see the roots of hatred,
As long as the meaning of love is lust, as long as it means temporary marriage!
Condolences instead of blessings and greetings,
Yeah this year is named after hatred, after curing,
There is much discount in the sales of cruelty and flames,
Our happy Iran is now like "the house of grievance!
I wish I could sleep some 300 years like the men of the cave!
Cause the oppressors don't have mercy on men, nor on a blooming plant.

  • likes, 4 dislikes

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  • ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

  • wow just watched this with my dad! great video!

    i hope the Bahai's of iran- and the whole world, will feel equality.

Video Responses

This video is a response to Haaj Daneshmand on Bahai
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All Comments (81)

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  • KHoob ,,,khoda ra shokr az en enghelab ,,la ghall ,,yek seri honar khoob amad

  • i want to know those three a**holes that dislike this video . you guy need to be shoot in the aleast three time .

  • the only way for you to scare the RG and Basiji is to be twice a scary as they are! have some motivation>>watch>>"Texas Hippie Coalition-Pissed Off And Mad About It"

  • In 1976 before revolution, I also had similar experience with my Quran teacher. I don’t remember his name. But I vividly remember, he was a very short man.  He had a very old saggy wrinkled suit that was never ironed, and never wear any ties. He always carried a thick rolled up newspaper in one of his pocket that stick out from the side of his jacket.

  • My teacher was always making fun of me, and my religion in front of other students in the classroom. When I told my father, my father make a compliant against the teacher, and the school principal did absolutely nothing about it. Next week my teacher was upset with me and made my life even more miserable in the classroom. He asks me to stand with only one foot in front of the class for entire one hour. Every time I put two feet on the floor he hit hard on my head.

  • This time my father came to the school and told the principal, that from now on my son will not attend the Quran class (Talimateh Dini), as we are not Muslim. From that day forward, I was happy playing with my fellow Christians, Armenians, Jewish, and Zoroastrians friend in the playground during Talimat Dini session.

  • In 1977, (my last year in Iran) my math teacher was a very fanatic, psychotic and crazy man. Almost every morning he was beating a student. Sometimes he was asking students to bend over, and then he was jumping and ridding kids as if they were donkey.

  • One time, he hit me so hard, that his hand mark was on my face for two weeks. Again next day my father comes to the school, shouting at the school principal and the teacher behind closed doors, while I was standing outside. My father was a very well dressed and strong man.

  • He could have easily bit the hell out of both the teacher and the principal. But when he came out, for some reason both the teacher and the principal were so polite to my father and me. I asked my father what happened! He said I hired the guy to be your private teacher. He will come and teach you every week for two hours. I could not believe what I was hearing. I was very angry with my father, as why he hired this criminal to be my private teacher.

  • All he told was: be patient (wisdom), what! Many years later I asked my father why did you hired that guy to be my private teacher. He said for two reasons. One, your Math was really bad. Two, that was the only way to make that teacher respect you. When I look back, now I realize, my father was my real teacher. God bless my father and his soul. May he rest in peace, as he was a real gentleman, who never raised his hand on any of us.

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