Nowruz 1395
Following the insult of Amir Ameli, Basij poet of IRGC, to Ostad Shajarian by publishing a poem in Fars news agency, I would like to draw your attention to the text of this poem as well as Ostad Shajarian’s response to this poem:
Fars News Agency published Amir Aamili’s poem against Mohammad Reza Shajarian
In the introduction of this poem it is stated:
“In response to the hypocrites who want to humiliate the people of Iran with the burnt voice of Shajarian; People who are proud and in love, people who are from anemones”
You are lost, our old singer.
You got lost in the end,
The stranger made you his tool,
You have become the right light of your wall,
Lord, because you forgot,
A lot of students, hello! The teacher left
You have gone away from us, it’s a pity.
You are proud in your old age, pity.
You have been the singer of my youth,
You have tasted my bread and kebab.
You sang well, your voice was good.
Then the crown of Isfahan was desirable
What did you do for Sheikh and Shab?
with the sound of tar, tambor and harp,
There is an instrument now, but no singing.
A door on the phone is not open to you.
Until you join the decline, my dear,
I wish you were a disciple of moderation
The cunning of America made you hate,
The glitter of the west blinded your eyes!
Because the shirt is in two, you are bad.
You became like that singer who used to sing badly.
Your “shadow” said, singer!
Be a disciple of old heart and stay
Like, O Matrab! Sorry for the pride
A hundred years away from your people!
You pampered everyone when you were old.
You started being cute with everyone!
Reduce cuteness, return to the nation.
Say less about despair, O Master Yellow!
Professor Shajarian’s answer:
I was informed that you addressed this servant
Even though I am not very good at poetry writing
A few lines were written impromptu and unedited in your answer
May the judgment between us be left to the great nation of Iran
The soil at the feet of the nation of Iran – Mohammad Reza Shajarian
My cute voice will not be lost.
Because I miss my song,
This is not my song and my instrument,
This is the sound of the years of the homeland
Rabana, I read that the nation was fasting.
The heart was fasting and sorrows were increasing
I am the voice of happiness for these people.
I am the freedom of these people
It’s a pity for the life that ignorance arose.
Pity the nation! He did not see the color of freedom.
I am not old, jealous of what you said.
Pir Raham Don, was and was not
Did you read my song dear, ignorant?
Ignorant? No, no, but an agent
You do not understand the crown
You who read the yellow color of a nation!
You have not seen a nation, you are dead.
You have eaten the stick silently!
This is a sign of decline.
Whatever happens is out of moderation
Do you appreciate the shadow, enemy?
The one who migrated has gone to him
The shadow of the sun is in this sky,
Although he said call me famous,
The heart of old and young became my home.
The temple of lovers of heart, Astan
I found my pride in the nation,
I gained strength through gold or force
Naz is bought by the market of the nation.
A nation honors my name
It’s better if I’m Khashak
Better than the one who is a servant of gold
Alas, his servant is ignorant and that’s it.
Who knows the difference between “Zar” and “Khes”?!
If I am old but we are free,
No need for my respect, Don Nim
From corner to corner, my name was sung,
Cain’s ad was matched!
Ignorant! Zain is more than you, Yahwe Megu,
O my heart, sing my love!
His memory is cherished and his name is eternal
This post is written by Alizia_4097