Newroz Poem by Piramerd 1948
The New Year’s day is today.
Newroz is back.An ancient Kurdish festival, with joy and verdure.
For many years, the flower of our hopes was downtrodden
The fresh rose of spring was the blood of the youth
It was that red colour on the high horizon of Kurd
Which was carrying the happy tidings of dawn to remote and near nations
It was Newroz which imbued the hearts with such a fire
That made the youth receive death with devoted love
Hooray! The sun is shining from the high mountains of homeland
It is the blood of our martyrs which the horizon reflects
It has never happened in the history of any nation
To have the breasts of girls as shields against bullets
Nay. It is not worth crying and mourning for the martyrs of homeland
They die not. They live on in the heart of the nation.
- The New Year’s day is today. Newroz is back.
- An ancient Kurdish festival, with joy and verdure.
- For many years, the flower of our hopes was downtrodden
- The fresh rose of spring was the blood of the youth
- It was that red colour on the high horizon of Kurd
- Which was carrying the happy tidings of dawn to remote and near nations
- It was Newroz which imbued the hearts with such a fire
- That made the youth receive death with devoted love
- Hooray! The sun is shining from the high mountains of homeland
- It is the blood of our martyrs which the horizon reflects
- It has never happened in the history of any nation
- To have the breasts of girls as shields against bullets
- Nay. It is not worth crying and mourning for the martyrs of homeland
- They die not. They live on in the heart of the nation.The New Year’s day is today. Newroz is back.An ancient Kurdish festival, with joy and verdure.For many years, the flower of our hopes was downtroddenThe fresh rose of spring was the blood of the youth
It was that red colour on the high horizon of Kurd
Which was carrying the happy tidings of dawn to remote and near nations
It was Newroz which imbued the hearts with such a fire
That made the youth receive death with devoted love
Hooray! The sun is shining from the high mountains of homeland
It is the blood of our martyrs which the horizon reflects
It has never happened in the history of any nation
To have the breasts of girls as shields against bullets
Nay. It is not worth crying and mourning for the martyrs of homeland
They die not. They live on in the heart of the nation.
The New Year’s day is today. Newroz is back.
An ancient Kurdish festival, with joy and verdure.
For many years, the flower of our hopes was downtrodden
The fresh rose of spring was the blood of the youth
It was that red colour on the high horizon of Kurd
Which was carrying the happy tidings of dawn to remote and near nations
It was Newroz which imbued the hearts with such a fire
That made the youth receive death with devoted love
Hooray! The sun is shining from the high mountains of homeland
It is the blood of our martyrs which the horizon reflects
It has never happened in the history of any nation
To have the breasts of girls as shields against bullets
Nay. It is not worth crying and mourning for the martyrs of homeland
They die not. They live on in the heart of the nation.
© 2011 – 2015, Kerry Arslan. All rights reserved.
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