An Elegy For a Legend, In Memory of the Inspiration That Was Mehdi Bagheri, My Great Teacher
He is dead. My beloved teacher is gone.
Like the burning sun, with knowledge he shone
A man of letters, he would voice his thoughts
Costing him dear ever and anon
Gone is he who was out of place
A man that laughed in the faith’s face
The letter and fetor of tradition
Could not fetter his rational race
Poverty, problems, pains and plight
never bereaved him of his mental might.
Proud, profound, and thoughtful as he was
Stoop he would not to what was not right
Language pregnant, words exquisite
At bunkum he cut with his acid wit
To paper his pen whenever he set
To our ignorance, we all would admit
He always swam against the tide.
Many he spurned in his pride.
His abrasiveness and sullen facade
From so many, his kind heart would hide
What most people considered gospel
Neither would he buy, nor would he sell
Brains his ever burgeoning belonging
Gave him direction, one thing you could tell
Mediocrity he could never take
Averageness ran counter to his make
In Rome when he was, Roman he was not
An authentic man, he was never fake
Stabbed by the ruthless knife
of death, was his fruitful life.
Too young he died and with his death
Sadness rained down. Sorrow ran rife
In the face of death, nothing can be done
All that lives and is, one day will be gone
Yet his legacy, a blazing torch
Weathers the woes and will never wan.
In person though I’ll meet him nevermore
His teachings remain with me evermore
A self-made soul and a man of mark
He was what he was, a wisdom ore.
Copyright ©
Khashayar Salehi
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