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 Promise of a trouble-maker February 3, 2003 The Iranian Opening speech for "Poets and Peace" event in London's Shool of Oriental Studies (SOAS). O my God, Me! Giving a speech! Last time I did it, in a political party They kicked me out Today, if you are not happy Just applaud Please, no violence We are here for peace, after all And if you don't mind Please open your hearts Last time I spoke to a brain It was a friend's, a painter Who red-coloured my nose Yesterday, when my kids left me While my world was falling into pieces I told them all One by one "Je t'aime. N'oublie pas." Don't forget. And they understood what I meant: I'm not going to let the war happen I'm going to protect your Iraqi mates-to-be Who knows, My daughter might marry an Iraqi boy Lucky man! And my sons, two beautiful Kurdish girls "I have big news for you daddy" That is it! She is a young woman now It's like it was yesterday When on a tiny black screen They showed me this white spot Her tiny womb Within her mum's; These Russian dolls Giving us birth Teaching us how to love And when she was 5 She drew the picture of her new brother Still inside her mum Playing football If Humanity continues It's due to our team And if I struggle for peace It's to keep the game going That's why I invited you Because I couldn't save all those kids alone I know how to love And I've loved quite a few But to save all those kids I need more hearts to beat That is why I asked you upfront To open your hearts We have a mission Listen! Do you hear the boots? They are not far They say they will shoot shortly They will launch the bombs And they do not sound so funny The bombs I mean Twenty years ago Hidden in a stairwell Because there wasn't any shelter With two little girls in my arms We made journeys to hell And the most difficult thing was how they looked at me "Are we going to die, uncle?" "Are we going to die?" "Are we going to die?" And I replied ... I don't remember what I replied But I would prefer jail or exile To face those regards There're questions, which poison your life The whole life And if you hadn't noticed We didn't die But I should admit That the most beautiful music I've ever heard Is that ugly military deafening siren Signalling the end of bombing A genuine symphony with a unique note And I can tell you that When the bombing is over And you are still alive You find how beautiful this life is All of a sudden you forget that you live under dictatorship Or that the kids have not seen the colour of meat for a while ... You forget even that they are going to return tomorrow And they returned lots of "tomorrow"s Too many One day, I have to tell this story to my kids The Emperor Who is not even a genuine boss Because he stole his crown Wants some blood Some young flesh He has ordered the menu The table is set Atmospheric music is meticulously played The hunters are sent for the job And they prepare the barbecue I even saw a poodle round here Barking for some bones The only thing that the Emperor forgot (Nobody is perfect) Is that I'm in his way (I promised to my kids, I told you) And I'm not alone You wouldn't bother coming If you didn't want to save them And ... get closer! We are the majority WE ARE THE MAJORITY More and more out for the Emperor And his minion the poodle Listen! I heard the minion saying the other day: "To have influence We need to be the closest to the Emperor And it's all benefit to us" What ungraceful and rouge nation Would refuse some miserable blood To such a high spirit commitment? They need some influence! They are so used to it, We would better die rather and seeing them without influence And even they didn't show us the figures They are given a good deal on this Nobody can reject this We should understand them Please feel at home And send as many bombs as you need Listen! The Emperor is speaking You! Lick my boots And you will get the first prize You! Say YES You will have a prize You! Don't say anything You won't be punished You! Say NO You will suffer And you! Try it And ... you will see Well, we will see Because we are going to try it Because we are going to cry it On the rooftop of the world NOOOOOO This damn two-letter word Has blown up a lot of poor emperors The real ones From Spartacus to the cheeky stone throwers in Palestine Through the Ghettos of Warsaw Man has always been a trouble-maker As if it's in our genes "I say NO therefore I am" "I say NO therefore I am" "I say NO therefore I am" Isn't it the second word we learn in our life? The first being "love" I mean "mum" And I didn't invite you tonight to add one more reading to your artistic CV. I ask you to build up our Resistance together "Artists and resistance!?" "And so!" Zola wrote "J'accuse" against anti-Semite witch hunting Hugo went into exile Sartre and Russell created the tribunal And Nazim Hikmat went from village to village Prison to prison Against dictatorship He said: What are you going to do? I said: We are already doing something. We are reading! Painting, Taking photographs, and more He said: And ... I said: This IS an action! He said: And ... I said: There are some who don't even read! He said: And ... I hate him when he speaks like this As if he's short of vocabulary So I changed the tactic and said: And ... He said: Do they stop their war machine because you are reading your lousy poem? (He is very jealous) And I said: ... Hmmm... I don't think so He said: YOU DON'T THINK SO!? I said: Well. I'm not sure. But we are doing our best. He said: Your best is not good enough! I said: And ... He said: You can do better I said: And ... He said: That's it! I said: AND ... And he suggested this: The Emperor seems to be preparing the party for the end of February Let's organise a Peace Festival all over the world Before the fireworks Everybody out Singing and dancing, Reading and painting In the streets of London and Paris, Kabul or Manila Budapest or Santiago Baghdad or New York Tel Aviv or Jenin Let's show in what colours The schoolchildren on this planet Draw the face of peace, Of happiness The nightmare of war And the dried breasts of hunger, Let the peace concerts enflame the crowd Let's dance together To the rhythm of Kurdish dance Samba or Flamenco All the same day, United by life Decided for peace Should we wait for someone to make this festival happen Before the bombs speak? Or it can be us? I can't sit back now Too late I've made a promise When I kissed them And told them one by one "Je t'aime. N'oublie pas ça." If Zola and Hugo Sartre and Russell Picasso and Hikmat were alive They would certainly be with us In Soas These lines are an "appeal" in fact! I couldn't find a template for making standard appeals Or a book on "Appeals for dummies" But as I told you upfront I don't speak to brains any more I've still got my red nose © R. Hiwa 18-20 January 2003, Oncy Sur Ecole, Home * Printer friendly Does this article have spelling or other mistakes? Tell me to fix it.
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