Marzieh Ghiasi

The real “Dead Poets Society”: For a country with an intricate history of beauty and tragedy that reads like an epic poem, it only makes sense those who have woven the fabric of Iranian identity, those most revered throughout history are its poets. Many people in Iran commit ancient poems to the heart, in home and in school, and not one, not two but hundreds of verses. So if you are sitting in a cab, walking through the streets, or whatever– you’ll often hear people humming familiar words, the verses of Hafez, Sa’adi, Ferdowsi, Molana (Rumi)… and each year thousands go each year to visit and pay their respects at their mausoleums, as I had the opportunity to do.

I decided to begin putting up some of the videos I’ve taken, and this is probably my favorite one– it has a nicer background music than I anything I could ever come up with. I hadn’t been to Hafezieh, the resting place of the Persian poet Hafez, since I was seven. The last time I was at the Hafezieh I was absolutely mesmerized. It was the single most beautiful place I’d ever seen. I was awed by it again, though surprised by how much smaller it was compared to what I remembered. Back then, I made two wishes on a coin which I threw in the fountain, one of which was that Hafez would invite me back when I had done something worthy in the world. This was always on my mind and after fifteen years, I figured that the wish must have been taken seriously… However, last summer I was at the Hafezieh again, perhaps by fluke. But the lesson had been learnt and this time I was careful to not make any conditional wishes.