“Hope” is the name of a Montreal-based charity, working for children in Iran with cancer. On the occasion of the Iranian New Year, Norooz, on March 21, this organization was one of many, holding especial booth at Noroozi Bazar and selling new year related material, except they allocated a percentage of the profit to the cause. To raise more funds the organization also sold small pots of Coleus blumei. I could not resist buying one, although I knew the trip back home would take me 2 hours and was not sure if the tiny thing would make it that long in minus 12 C. ! It did, and it sat on our Noroozi table as a sign of hope.
My tiny Coleus spent most of the spring indoors, half sleep I guess, until early June, when the weather was warm enough for me to re-pot and gradually transplant it so that it has now grown to a saturated red, full of leaves and medium size plant ready to survive yet another winter indoors.
Hope is the name of my Coleus – the name of the process whereby with love and care, any living could recover and revive.
In this proud land we grew up strong, we were wanted all along, I was taught to fight, taught to win, I never thought I could fail, no fight left or so it seems, I am a man whose dreams have all deserted, I’ve changed my face, I’ve changed my name, but no one wants you when you lose, don’t give up, ‘cos you have friends, don’t give up, you’re not beaten yet, don’t give up, I know you can make it good, though I saw it all around, never thought I could be affected, thought that we’d be the last to go, it is so strange the way things turn, drove the night toward my home, the place that I was born, on the lakeside, as daylight broke, I saw the earth, the trees had burned down to the ground, don’t give up, you still have us, don’t give up, we don’t need much of anything, don’t give up, ’cause somewhere there’s a place, where we belong, rest your head, you worry too much, it’s going to be alright, when times get rough, you can fall back on us, don’t give up, please don’t give up, ‘got to walk out of here ,I can’t take anymore, going to stand on that bridge, keep my eyes down below, whatever may come, and whatever may go, that river’s flowing, that river’s flowing, moved on to another town, tried hard to settle down, for every job, so many men, so many men no-one needs, don’t give up, ’cause you have friends, don’t give up, you’re not the only one, don’t give up, no reason to be ashamed, don’t give up, you still have us, don’t give up now, we’re proud of who you are, don’t give up, you know it’s never been easy, don’t give up, ’cause I believe there’s the a place, there’s a place where we belong.
Translation into Persian
Good people and things never vanish; they just creep into my dreams once they disappear from my life (and they do that a lot!) That is why I must capture and share, even if only on the air, the remarkable instances of my world before I disappear myself: Here is the plan: two or three times a week, I throw in some or all of the following: edible delights I pull from my kitchen, magical scents and colors I cultivate in my flowerbeds; hopes and despair I carry along the way. Stay tuned!