Following his dad’s footsteps, he said that he had worked on railways as a labour for years. He’s now a poet and carpenters to live his life.
I asked him: “so why are *you* leaving?!”
As a respond he read me Shamloo’s poem:
“I have never been afraid of death,
even if its hands are more fragile than triteness.
My dread is to die in a land,
where the reward of a grave-digger,
is more that the freedom of human beings.

گفت که سال‌ها مثل پدرش رو ریل راه آهن کار می‌‌کرده, اما الان نجاری می‌کنه و حرفه ش شاعری
“ازش پرسیدم “تو واسه چی‌ داری می‌‌ری؟
:تو جوابم گفت
هرگز از مرگ نهراسیده ام”
اگر چه دستانش از ابتـذال
شکننده تر بود
هراس من
,باری– همه از مردن در سرزمینی است
که مزد گورکن
از آزادی آدمی
“افزون تر باشد