A Conversation Between Earth and Sky

The earth looked up at the sky with dignity and groaned that thirst had brought her to the edge of death… The sky roared. The clouds lined up like army battalions, and the drops marched to the field at the sound of a war trumpet… One by one, the soldier drops struck the earth, offering their lives. The earth, now refreshed and full of water, marveled at the drops’ strength and conviction and asked: “How could the soldiers, knowing they would have to give their lives for the land they loved, go without a single one asking, ‘How can a tiny drop like me possibly quench something so vast?’” The sky said, “Those drops learned in their battalion drills to call ‘me’ ‘us’ and become a sea together.” My fellow Iranian, my friend, a piece of my own flesh: You and I cannot free this sacred land alone. But if we all become one voice, we can wash the filth of the Islamic Republic from Iran like a cloudburst. Long live Iran. Long live the Shah.