Hi! Dear my wife!
I am writing the letter from Balkh province. From the land of Jalaludin Muhammad Balkhi, from the home of a person that his famous poems brought the message of humanity values. This is my last letter, “let’s comprehend the value of each other.” Today, I will be martyred. Our angry brothers have decided to kill us. Don’t worry, I am not alone. We are more than 55 soldiers who will be slaughtered. We should pay the debt of our big brotherhood. Indeed, do not tell anything to my mother, just tell her that your child has become a traveler. A traveler of a wandering path and you will not be alive until he comes back.
Do not forget to take the last kiss from her forehead. Tell my kids that your father was killed by those who were neither enemy nor friend, we thought they are brothers. Therefore, the father death is the death of a “crazy.” A stupid death! Mad people who stole the meaning of life, suddenly, disrupt everything, shot anyone who was breathing. They pierced a father’s chest. I wish I had been martyred in the trench. I wish I had held the homeland flag in my hand and my blood had watered the flower bed of our garden and our apple trees will bloom and become colorful and every time that our kids climb up the apple trees, will see the bloody vessels of the tree and hug me.
Baby, I have never understood the love of you. A wife who washed my filthy clothes from the trench and swept my tiny, muddy house. I do not know, how much I miss you. Today, your eyes are Balkh’s sky. I want to kiss you and look at your eyes before I go. Forgive me, to leave you alone. Forgive me that I have never told you, “I love you.”
I wish I had gone with a calm mind. I do not know what will happen to you. I wish my father had been alive. Go to the commander’s house after my death. He has a kind wife. Wash their clothes. Generals have a good salary. You can continue your life. Introduce yourself, say that you are the wife of Balkh’s martyr, the wife of one who was martyred for Imam Ali, they may help you.
Indeed, if you find my grave, come with green clothing. Green clothes with your black eyes are the world of my love.
Martyr of Balkh