Ebi is a famous Iranian singer, who lives in Los Angeles, and is known as "Mr. Voice" among Iranians, and has many fans. He is known for singing romantic as well as political songs and has collaborated with several other Persian singers. Ebi has a powerful voice and a strong, & resonant tone.
The song "Nastaran Alley" is related to a long tradition in Iran. After the end of the eight-year war between Iran and Iraq, which caused many youths to lose their lives, the names of plenty of alleys and streets were changed in honor of the martyrs of the war. In this song, a martyr wrote a letter to his mother and asked her not to change the name of their alley and to let the name of the alley remain Nastaran, the name of the girl he loved.
In this letter, the soldier tells his mother that the crimes committed by the Iranian regime in the name of the martyrs and under the pretext of preserving their values are just an excuse in the hands of the oppressors, and dictators of the time. He says that fighting should not be to maintain power, but only to protect and defend those we love.
Nastaran Alley (Koocheye Nastaran)
Singer: Ebi
Ghost: Mom! Why my pictures are still here?
…
Man: Why did you sleep here?
Woman: He was 30 today. 11 years, why did you hide this from me? How could you? It was my right to know.
Man: I know!
Woman: Read it to me
Lyrics:
This is a soldier’s message!
From the trench warfare, far away!
A bloody letter from the ashes
It starts with a kiss on his mother's hands
knowing the trench will be under fire tomorrow
In his last words
He is asking his mother
Not to change their alley’s name
In his honor
The name of their alley is Nastaran!
What better name than that!?
(Nastaran is a type of Rose and a girl name)
He says:
You know Nastaran, she is the girl next door!
I wanted her to be your bride, after the ceasefire
She was with me on the front
She was the motivation for defending
She was the meaning of homeland
Mother!
Don't let them sell my blood!
(Betray my sacrifices)
Those who wear my shoes after me!
(Follow in my footsteps)
Don't let my name
Be an instrument of oppression
Don't let the blood of me and my comrades
Be a gimcrack of the night
Don't let my name
Becomes a baton beating up innocents!
An excuse to put bullets
In the students face
Those ignorant screaming my name
Don’t have a clue of the attack night sorrow!
Their only agenda was to get the hell out of there alive!
So now they can have colorful lives
Spending the blood of a hundred like me
Mother! As long as love is lost in our alley!
Don’t let my name be on that alley!
As long as love is flogged, imprisoned
And subject to condemnation
The traces of my sadness
Have remained on this letter yet!
Hide my memory in that vast heart of yours’s
Even take my picture off the shelf Mother!
