Heval II

I am writing these lines in the days before the meeting we will have with you, but which you may never remember. I dedicate these lines, which I will write with trembling fingers, to all the children who are our only hope for a free future, in your person. I hope that you will distribute this bunch of roses, which I have compiled from the rose garden of my dreams, to children, the buds of hope, one day, during Newroz, maybe during serhildans, or maybe during the freedom halay...

When you read these lines, maybe I will be together in the free homeland and smiling at you. Maybe I'll still be in a trench behind a rock, gun in hand. Perhaps a body that has already fallen to the ground to provide life for the new wildflowers that will bloom in the spring. But I will definitely be one of those who stand for hope for freedom under all circumstances. If that day comes and I can't be with you physically, don't be sad, my wild flower. Maybe in the voice of a crane, maybe in the wing of a butterfly that will land on your hair, maybe in a tear drop hanging on your eyelashes; I will be smiling at you wherever there are traces of life.