A Testament to Courage and Conviction: Reza Rezaei
Ali Safavi
Member of Foreign Affairs Committee, National Council of Resistance of Iran (NCRI)
This evocative poem was penned by Reza Rezaei, a senior figure in the MEK leadership committee. Martyred at the hands of the Shah's SAVAK on June 15, 1973, in Tehran, Reza was only 26 years old. In his short yet profound life, he recited these lines to his mother, Aziz, a testament to his indomitable spirit and unyielding dedication to liberty.
Through poignant words, Reza conveys a deep resolve against tyranny, inspired by the principles of love and resistance instilled by his mother. The verses reflect his acute observations of suffering and his aspirations for a future free from oppression, encapsulated by his commitment to the cause of freedom—themes that resonate deeply as he calls for liberation from tyranny.
Reza Rezaei and many other martyrs of the MEK, especially during the dark days of the Shah's oppression in the 1970s, embody the organization's commitment to the ideals of justice, equality, and freedom.
After his miraculous escape from prison, he united with his older brother Ahmad and tried to reconstitute the MEK, which had been shattered after the SAVAK's sweeping raids in August and September 1971. Unfortunately, Ahmad was killed in January 1972, and Reza died in a clash with SAVAK agents in June 1973.
Today, more than a half-century later, as we remember his voice and valor, let us reflect on the power of conviction and the cost of freedom. Reza Rezaei's words are not just a reflection of his time but a beacon for all who cherish freedom. Despite the brevity of his life, his poetry and his sacrifice continue to inspire those who are fighting to liberate Iran from the clutches of its ruling tyrants. Today, we remember and honor his legacy.
To listen to the poem in Reza’s own voice, click here:
Mother, in hope I wander once more,
Don't gaze down the alley, tearful and sore,
The sun of my life, ablaze, shall set,
At noon, its flames shall slowly fade and let.
?
In childhood's realm, where wisdom's edge I stood,
You taught me Quran's verse, so pure and good.
That day, you planted love's seeds for the oppressed with tender hand,
In the soil of my mind, where dreams expand.
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You said to me, 'God's path, all must tread,
In His way, with your life, strive till you're dead.'
True men herald the dawn of noble liberty,
Cast off chains, embrace no tyrant's decree.
?
Since then, within my wide circle of sight,
I've seen forsaken children, cloaked in plight.
Their faces veiled with dust, from passerby,
On tough paths, unnoticed by the eye.
?
I've seen a sick child, embraced by poverty's pain,
Upon his mother's hands, where death does reign.
Her tears fell, her teeth clenched in despair,
From dire need, she pressed her lips with care.
?
The devil looms, dictating people's fate,
With gaping mouths, homes he desecrates.
From distant villages, fields he would drain,
And fill his cup with blood's dark stain.
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I've seen the hopeless, devoid of light,
Eyes dull and dim, locked in future's night.
Thieves plunder homes in shadows of the night,
While friends look on, resigned to their plight.
?
The night was cold, silent, and dark,
Black clouds veiled stars and hope's distant spark.
Thoughts of freedom-seeking people, adrift in the maze,
Lost souls seeking uplift, in endless days.
?
The melodies you sang, a thousand times,
Unraveled tales where weary souls find rhymes.
With Quranic verses from chapters of Fajr, Saff and Hadid,
You unlocked hope's gate, its power to reveal.
?
Then, in dawn's first light, a sudden burst,
The bullets of Mujahedin, freedom's thirst.
A tempest of fervor, shattering nests apart,
Freedom fighters broke the spider's web, their art.
?
Mother, witness the seed you've sown,
In my soul, courage blooms, fully grown.
The flame you ignited from my heart's deep well,
Now from my weapon's barrel, it does swell.
?
Accept my gratitude, dear mother, at last,
For the hymns of faith, in the distant past.
Those verses, pure, with secrets deep,
In my soul, the longing for martyrdom, they keep.
?
O compatriot, your path, shrouded in night,
With my blood, I lit the way, bringing light.
See how today, with swift steps, you tread,
Proud to have walked this path, where martyrs are led.
?
Today, the flames of guns and fires fierce roar,
Shake the bodies on the enemy's shore.
?
Tomorrow, at the hands of the Mujahedin’s might,
Shall crumble the enemy's name from sight.
Tonight, as yearnings for reunion rise,
I chant to the morning, where martyrdom lies.
The familiar gaze, with its message clear,
Keeps me from sleep, as it is near and dear.