When the Earth Lies

For me, writing is like fragmenting the floating and literary world into a thousand pieces. Whether it takes the form of a dramatic perspective in a play, a novel, or a story, I look at it to build an intuitive enclosure where people can view the world differently. My dramatic and fictional world, especially in recent years, resembles waking up from a forty-year-long night. The collection of four plays in the tetralogy *When the Earth Lies…* is yet another product of this enchanting enclosure. The theater of cruelty is fundamentally about the intuitive human being, sour apple orchard. In present times, another language is demanded for this intuition, with the perspective that, through a religious human viewpoint, I seek to emerge from the depths of this cruelty onto the sea of salvation. In the realm of language, structure, and form, I have endeavored through these four works to explore an alternative response to the requirements of dramatic literature in tone, action, and tension. It is a tragic narrative laden with contradictions that reflects the state of our current times, wherever we might be in this floating world: Bosnia, Halabja, Gaza, Nineveh, Mashhad, Kashan, or a distant corner of an Iranian gallery in Khorasan. I have built a bridge between ancient and modern language to assert that intuition, like idealistic literature, brings forth its search within the enclosure of the writer’s thought to attain salvation in the vast sea of God’s existence. Even if the magnificent river of being has narrowed into a delicate stream thinner than a thread of hair, we have all built countless enclosures together. Perhaps it is the same *Damun* of our times—perhaps. My heart always trembles at the thought of autumn, for I am born of summer.