In two poetic messages from Qezel Hesar Prison and Karaj Central Prison, political prisoners Maytham Dehban-Zadeh and Mohammad Hassani commemorate generations of resistance to dictatorship and express hope for a free Iran.
Two Iranian political prisoners have marked the anniversary of the founding of the People’s Mojahedin Organization of Iran (PMOI/MEK) with deeply symbolic poems from behind prison walls, invoking more than six decades of political struggle, sacrifice, and resistance to dictatorship.
Maytham Dehban-Zadeh, writing from Qezel Hesar Prison, and Mohammad Hassani, writing from Karaj Central Prison, use historical and mythological imagery to connect the sacrifices of earlier generations with the continuing struggle for a democratic future in Iran.
Their messages are not simply commemorative poems. They present a prison-born account of resistance in which executed prisoners, fallen fighters, uprisings, and successive generations are portrayed as links in a continuing chain of struggle against dictatorship.
“Salute to the Day When Love and Freedom Entered History”
Dehban-Zadeh begins his message by invoking the founding generation of the PMOI and the sacrifices that followed.
“Salute to the day when love emerged from the heart of a harsh and dark winter and the truth called freedom began flowing through the veins of history,” he writes.
He pays tribute to early PMOI members, including Ahmad Rezaei, Mohammad Hanifnejad, Saeed Mohsen, and Ali-Asghar Badizadegan, who were executed under the Shah’s regime in the early 1970s.
“Salute to Hanif, Saeed, and Badizadegan—lives that were not an ending, but the beginning of a flood that passed through blood and faith and heralded the arrival of tomorrow,” Dehban-Zadeh writes.
The poem then moves through different episodes in the history of the PMOI and the broader resistance movement, invoking the sacrifices of those killed in confrontations with successive Iranian regimes.
Among the references are the June 20, 1981, uprising and the October 1981 clashes, as well as the February 8, 1982, killings of senior PMOI members. To an international audience unfamiliar with these dates, they represent successive moments in which members and supporters of the opposition faced mass arrests, executions, and armed repression.
Dehban-Zadeh repeatedly turns these episodes of violence into symbols of endurance.
“Salute to the fiery October 5 and to the footsteps that passed through hot lead to say: ‘Can the sun really be killed?’” he writes.
Remembering Ashraf and the Resistance’s Fallen
The poem also invokes Camp Ashraf and the people who died during the organization’s years of armed and political resistance.
“Salute to Ashraf and Mousa, to Ashraf’s martyrs and to that bloody dawn of February 8, whose memory and song remain,” Dehban-Zadeh writes.
He then turns to what he describes as a profound transformation within the resistance movement, highlighting the emergence of women in prominent leadership positions under Maryam Rajavi.
“Salute to that profound transformation in the revolution for liberation, born with Maryam—the emergence of new human beings determined to break the hidden chains,” he writes.
The poem portrays the women of the resistance as central actors in the struggle for political liberation, describing them through images of an army capable of confronting repression with determination and sacrifice.
“Salute to an army of women and men of courage, steel and fire, who turned another page in the history of human freedom under the banner of women,” Dehban-Zadeh writes.
“Salute to the Pulse of Every Uprising”
Dehban-Zadeh’s poem also moves from historical remembrance toward Iran’s more recent uprisings. He invokes the Resistance Units and portrays them as the continuing “red pulse” of popular revolts against the regime.
“Salute to the red pulse of every uprising, to the leopard-like rebels and your fiery hammer,” he writes.
He names several members of the resistance who were killed or imprisoned, including Behrouz and Mehdi, and Vahid and his comrades, presenting their deaths as part of a larger history of sacrifice.
The poem ultimately shifts from mourning toward anticipation of a different future.
“Salute to the bright horizon of Iran’s sky, which is about to spread the radiant light of resistance over the most beautiful homeland,” he writes.
It concludes with a series of declarations:
“Salute to the organization of love, salute to freedom, salute to perseverance, salute to Rajavi, salute to liberation, salute to the blessed birth of the People’s Mojahedin Organization of Iran.”
Mohammad Hassani: The Myth of Zahak and Kaveh Reimagined
A second political prisoner, Mohammad Hassani, sent a separate poem from Karaj Central Prison in September 2026.
Hassani draws heavily on the ancient Iranian legend of Zahak and Kaveh the Blacksmith, using the myth as an allegory for dictatorship and popular resistance.
In the traditional Persian epic tradition, Zahak is a tyrannical ruler associated with violence and oppression, while Kaveh is a blacksmith who rises against him. Hassani adapts these figures to describe contemporary Iran, portraying the tyrant as a monster sustained by repression and the people as a force eventually capable of overthrowing him.
He opens with a dark depiction of tyranny:
“In the hidden chamber of night, drunk Zahak bears his burden; thirsty dragons feed upon innocent lives.”
The poem then describes the ruler’s attempt to conceal repression behind religion and political propaganda, portraying clerics and loyalists as instruments of the tyrant.
But the image of Kaveh soon appears.
“Kaveh sits with his companions,” Hassani writes. “Hanif kindles the flame of awareness and anger.”
The historical Hanifnejad is thus placed alongside the mythical Kaveh, linking the ancient Persian image of resistance to the modern history of the PMOI.
From Zahak’s Rule to a Spring of Freedom
In the second half of the poem, Hassani describes the transformation of the symbols of power. Zahak becomes weaker, while Kaveh multiplies into thousands.
“Kaveh has now become thousands,” he writes.
The metaphor captures the central idea running through both prisoners’ messages: attempts to eliminate opposition through executions and repression cannot permanently extinguish resistance.
Hassani concludes with images of spring, light, and liberation replacing the darkness of dictatorship.
“The land of Iran has become filled with the spring of cypress trees,” he writes, invoking the cypress as a traditional Persian symbol of endurance and uprightness.
He then imagines the final confrontation:
“The hammer of the Kavehs falls upon his head; the sword of freedom cuts the throat of his shame.”
The poem ends on a vision of renewal:
“In our dawn, love rains down, and light. In winter, spring. Light rains down, and light.”
Poetry From Behind Prison Walls
Written from two of Iran’s prisons, the messages of Dehban-Zadeh and Hassani transform imprisonment into a platform for political remembrance and defiance.
Their poems connect the founders of the PMOI, generations of prisoners and executed opponents, the organization’s subsequent political and military history, and Iran’s contemporary protest movements into one narrative of resistance.
For international readers, the historical references may be unfamiliar, but the central message is clear: the authors see the sacrifices of those who came before them not as isolated tragedies, but as part of an unfinished struggle for freedom in Iran.
From Qezel Hesar and Karaj prisons, where political prisoners themselves remain behind bars, their poems close not with despair, but with the imagery of spring and light—a declaration that, in their view, repression cannot prevent the eventual emergence of freedom.