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Forough Farrokhzad (1935-1967): The Impure


Leave me by myself! I am filthy and vile.
A wild heart hides, in my feigned smile!

Despicable and fickle; I am worthy of fire.
I am possessed by lust, and loads of desire!

Your heart is pure, mine is all stained.
With strangers I went, willing, unstrained!

Your heart is drunkard by the spark of my kiss;
I’m drunk on a wine, from torrents of the abyss! 

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Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani.
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In Persian:

از پیش من برو که دل آزارم 
نا پایدار و سست و گنهکارم 
 
در کنج سینه یک دل دیوانه 
در کنج دل هزار هوس دارم
 
قلب تو پاك و دامن من ناپاك
من شاهدم به خلوت بيگانه
 
تو از شراب بوسه من مستي
من سر خوش از شرابم و پيمانه
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Forough Farrokhzad (1935 – 1967): A Stranger
 
On my raving desires, blank curtains stood guard,
suddenly, a stranger face appeared in their empty ward!
The sketch of the face carried me away with fervour–
When I reached out he sank in the night’s sticky tremor!
 
 
That night, the drained stare of a man landed on my face,
sliding down it shattered and went lost without a trace!
As I tried to break from the hold of his fleeting glance;
My heart pushed me toward the prospect of romance!
 
 
I was tired, gripped with gloom after my long quest–
Yet playful I called Him: “Come, come here and rest!”
“It is a long way and a good night can be, surely, ahead!
My reason whined: “Know you where leads you this tread?”
***&***
 
 
It was a long way and alas along the route–
The man complained of blistered, aching foot!
As my weary eyes turned onto him and his feet–
I saw there, chains gripped around his ankles’ seat.
 
 
I whispered, Oh God, his feet are in chain!
I felt a hand planted in me– the seeds of pain.
My eyelids, drowned in a ceaseless flood of tear–
Knowing that those chains, I could never tear!
***&***
 
 
It was night and the stare of his eyes in distress,
was robbing off my eyes their nightly restful dress!
I put my month on his and moaned with pride:
“Oh stranger, take on this wine’s wild ride!”
 
 
“Yes! Drink and say nothing, say no more!
For the flames of love- took all over my core!
True, I am left with no way back, with its pain–
but your feet are also bond to another’s chain!”
***&***
 
His arms coiled around me, on the slippery sands.
My locks broke wild, open, to the brush of his hands!
In the long dark night, from the warmth of my lip–
His thirsty moth, with every kiss, was taking a sip!
 
 
I suddenly gazed at the curtains, what was to be seen?
Nothing! The stranger face was absent from the scene!
I held him the close to my chest and thought inside, in pain:
I know who’s this stranger coming to my sight, so plain,
He is Mine, my affine in another’s chain!
 
 
 
Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani.
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***&***
 
In Persian:
 
ناشناس
 
بر پرده هاي درهم اميال سركشم
نقش عجيب چهره يك ناشناس بود
نقشي ز چهره ئي كه چو مي جستمش بشوق
پيوسته مي رميد و بمن رخ نمي نمود
 
يكشب نگاه خسته مردي بروي من
لغزيد و سست گشت و همانجا خموش ماند
تا خواستم كه بگسلم اين رشته نگاه
قلبم تپيد و باز مرا سوي او كشاند
 
 
نوميد و خسته بودم از آن جستجوي خويش
با ناز خنده كردم و گفتم بيا، بيا
راهي دراز بود و شب عشرتي به پيش
ناليد عقل و گفت كجا مي روي كجا
 
راهي دراز بود و دريغا ميان راه
آن مرد ناله كرد كه پايان ره كجاست
چون ديدگان خسته من خيره شد بر او
ديدم كه مي شتابد و زنجيريش به پاست
 
 
زنجيريش بپاست، چرا اي خداي من
دستي بكشتزار دلم تخم درد ريخت
اشگي دويد و زمزمه كردم ميان اشگ
«زنجيرش بپاست كه نتوانمش گسيخت»
 
شب بود و آن نگاه پر از درد مي زدود
از ديدگان خسته من نقش خواب را
لب بر لبش نهادم و ناليدم از غرور
«كاي مرد ناشناس بنوش اين شراب را»
 
آري بنوش و هيچ مگو كاندر اين ميان
در دل ز شور عشق تو سوزنده آذريست
ره بسته در قفاي من اما دريغ و درد
پاي تو نيز بسته زنجير ديگريست
 
 لغزيد گرد پيكر من بازوان او
آشفته شد بشانه او گيسوان من
شب تيره بود و در طلب بوسه مي نشست
هر لحظه كام تشنه او بر لبان من
 
 
 ناگه نگاه كردم و ديدم به پرده ها
آن نقش ناشناس دگر ناشناس نيست
افشردمش بسينه و گفتم بخود كه واي
دانستم اي خداي من آن ناشناس كيست
يك آشنا كه بسته زنجير ديگريست
 
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Forough Farrokhzad (1936 – 1967): Desolate House

I know it, know! Now from that remote abode–
The joy of life, all bliss, is taken off into the road!
I know it know! Now a little child cries and whines;
looking desperately for his mother’s sight and signs!


Every moment in my mind, emerges an image–
of an empty bed, cold and callous like a cage!
I see the prints of two hands shaking with fright–
exploring the void of the sheets in a dim light!


I vision, next to the burning fireplace–
a silhouette, thinned, frozen like a mace!
I see the shadows of a pair– of resigning arms–
surrendering resolutely to life’s charms and harms!


A bit away, I see the face of a child, asleep,
in the old nurse’s arms, he’d no more to weep.
I look on and see over the carpet, knitted of silk–
the stains of the spills of a cup filled with milk!

The windows I see, are left open-wide–
The plants are parched, leaning to the side!
The curtain is fallen on the edge of the door–
In the flower vase, waters play no more!

The cat stares with his empty eyes–
He wanders heavy and slow, and sighs!
The candle savors its last breath and fades;
Its flames join the thick darkness of the shades.

-.-.-.-.-

I know it, know! Now from that remote abode–
The joy of life, all bliss, is taken off into the road!
I know it know! Now a little child cries and whines;
looking desperately for his mother’s sight and signs!

But I, tired and tried with my restless soul–
In the rutted path towards my dreams, I stroll!
Poetry is my Beloved, poetry is my Sole Lover;
to sometime unite with it, I hover and hover!



Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani.
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***&***

In Persian:


خانه متروک

دانم اکنون از آن خانه ی دور
شادی زندگی پر گرفته
دانم کنون که طفلی به زاری
ماتم از هجر مادر گرفته

هر زمان می دود در خیالم
نقشی از بستری خالی و سرد
نقش دستی که کاویده نومید
پیکری را در آن با غم و درد


بینم آنجا کنار بخاری
سایه ی قامتی سست و لرزان
سایه ی بازوانی که گویی
زندگی را رها کرده آسان

دورتر کودکی خفته غمگین
در بر دایه ی خسته و پیر
بر سر نقش گل های قالی
سرنگون گشته فنجانی از شیر

پنجره باز و در سایه ی آن
رنگ گل ها به زردی کشیده
پرده افتاده بر شانه ی در
آب گلدان به آخر رسیده

گربه با دیده ای سرد و بی نور
نرم و سنگین قدم می گذارد
شمع در آخرین شعله ی خویش
ره به سوی عدم می سپارد

-.-.-.-


دانم اکنون کز آن خانه ی دور
شادی زندگی پر گرفته
دانم اکنون که طفلی به زاری
ماتم از هجر مادر گرفته

لیک من خسته جان و پریشان
می سپارم ره آرزو را
یار من شعر و دلدار من شعر
می روم تا بدست آرم او را

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