My Soul Inspired, My Heart in Bliss

"Sa'am plants are in it,

In the presence of which one feels oneself uplifted!

I am your darling sister,

I am to you like a bit of land,

with each shrub of grateful fragrance.

Lovely is the water-conduit in it,

which your hand has dug,

while the north wind cooled us.

A beautiful place to wander,

Your hand in my hand,

My soul inspired

My heart in bliss,

Because we go together.

New wine it is, to hear your voice;

I live for hearing it.

To see you with each look,

Is better than eating and drinking."

Sakineh Mohammadi Ashanti

There are songs enough for the hero

Who dwells on the heights of fame;

I sing of the disappointed--

For those who have missed their aim.

I sing for the breathless runner,

The eager, anxious soul,

Who falls with his strength exhausted.

Almost in sight of the goal;

For the hearts that break in silence,

With a sorrow all unknown,

For those who need companions,

Yet walk their ways alone.

There are songs enough for the lovers

Who share love's tender pain,

I sing for the one whose passion

Is given all in vain.

For those whose spirit comrades

Have missed them on their way,

I sing, with a heart o'erflowing,

This minor strain to-day.

And I know the Solar system

Must somewhere keep in space

A prize for that spent runner

Who barely lost the race.

For the plan would be imperfect

Unless it held some sphere

That paid for the toil and talent

And love that are wasted here.

- Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Read more about Sakineh, who is sentenced to death by stoning for an alleged illegal relationship with a man in the Guardian. She has "confessed" to adultery in national television after having been tortured according to her lawyer. Death penalty is an awful thing to start with, but when a person gets sentenced to a most cruel death for something that he/she most likely didn't commit, then it's beyond horrible. 

If you want more information or maybe want to take a stand, go to Amnesty International.

Ok, a hint then

"Gleam on gleam in the veiled dawn

The feet of the Gods are but half withdrawn;

The Colour fringes their garments' hem,

And the stones of the desert remember them.

Where the white mists enfold each hill

Lingers their brooding presence still;

Still, though the glory of Thebes be done,

The twin Colossi salute the sun.

Lure on lure at the break of morn

The earth lies fair as the earth was born,

And the old Gods walk in the mist and the dew

Of an ancient splendour for ever new."