THIS IS MY COUNTRY TOO/Mahnaz Badihian

 

THIS IS MY COUNTRY TOO

This is my country too,

Mr.Trump
I buried my pomegranate tree

Here
my mother died

here
this country opened its bosoms

to us

Mother liberty called for children
of other lands to gather 

here
this country needed 

the children of Rumi, Hafiz and Adonis 

needed to enchant its land with the children 

who grew to be
Walt Whitman and Maya Angelou

Where were you when we came
with baskets of basil and poems,
with biblical fruits as a gift?

This is our country too
we did not build hotels but
gave you our 

brightest brains
paved your soul with our 

art and culture

Fortunately the universe is our home  

the city of Isfahan
and the city of San Francisco too
I can call Isla Negra my home
where I visited Pablo Neruda’s grave
next to the resting place of Matilda

 

Because human hope
art and poetry is universal
because we are all children of this planet
With or without hotels

I could not be happier than
to see all hands united
In celebrating freedom and peace

I am the daughter of Zoroaster
daughter of Moses and Mohammad
daughter of poplar trees everywhere, 

no matter where

But I care to be a human being
to feel others’ pain
to share my loaf of bread
to wipe tears from tearful eyes

You call me Moslem or Jew
you name me black or white
but I like to be called a member
of the human race

Mr. Trump you can move me away 

from the garden I watered 

for decades in this land
you can scare us with your new orders
but flower gardens are 

everywhere
the sun shines 

everywhere
the moon belongs to 

everyone,
with or without hotels

We will take our roses to the other side

of the river
to other continents
but you have one home only
the inflamed bigotry in your own golden prison

 

Mahnaz Badihian