🌿 Oath of the Mountains and Steppes 🌿
I refuse the woven lie,
that binds Kurdish spirit to the Arab sky.
My soul is stitched with other threads —
with winds from Zagros,
with dust from the Pashtun steppes.
My Pashtun-Kurdish side, proud and whole,
breathes in mountains, roars in open plains,
knows the fire of freedom,
untouched by foreign chains.
Both can co-exist —
the Pashtun and the Kurd,
a brotherhood born
without the shadow of the Arabs' word.
I hold loyalty for the Iranian Arabs —
the sons of Ahvaz and the rivers of Khuzestan.
I give a distant nod to the Emiratis —
the builders of coasts and cities.
But I refuse the claim of the Saudis,
I reject the Bedouin song that is not mine.
My blood was never theirs —
my oath is to mountains, not to deserts.
I will not forget.
I will not yield.
The blood that calls me
is mountain-forged and steppe-revealed.