Her name is Neda

Her name is Neda.
She is daughter, sister, friend,
Loved by many.
She studied, laughed, and walked
Down Tehran's streets.
She dreamed of a future
Full of promise.

Her name is Neda.
Cut down by a coward's bullet,
She lay on the street.
While her friends begged, "Stay with us,
Don't be afraid,"
Staring into the light of heaven,
She breathed her last.

Her name is Neda.
Her clear voice calls out to all
Who love freedom.
We hold her memory close,
Close in our hearts.
We will stay with you, Neda...
We are not afraid.

Courage in Iran

For a long time I blogged on Yahoo 360. Then Yahoo decided to put it on the chopping block, and it got so glitchy, adrift on the sea without support, that I moved elsewhere. 360 is officially closing in July. I haven't checked out my page or friends' updates in many months, but I returned today. Mainly I was curious to see what was going on with my one friend in Iran. I was amazed.

I don't even know my friend's name as her page is in Farsi. Of course, I am unable to read a word on her page. But the meaning today was clear. On her page the profile photo is now a burning fire and many of her friends have the same profile picture today. As I visited page after page, pursuing a trail of flame, the message became ever clearer and more urgent. Some people had posted pictures of the protests. Some had posted a graphic picture, censored by the western press, showing the protester killed by the government militia, his head in a pool of blood. Many bore the message, in English, "Where is my vote?"

Browsing these pages opened my eyes to an Iran that I hadn't even realized existed: one where people dissent, where women have non-traditional roles, where western TV, movies, and music are popular.

I admire these young (and old) Iranians for their courage as they take to the streets to insist on a fair election and as they dare to dream of change.