Sunday, August 30, 2009

an Oasis in time - Sohrab Sepehri

Sohrab Sepehri (October 7, 1928 - April 21 , 1980) was a notable modern Persian (Iranian) poet and a painter. he was born in Kashan in Isfahan province.

he is considered one of the five most famous modern Persian (Iranian) poets who have practiced "new poetry" (a kind of poetry that often has neither meter nor rhyme - later called white poetry). other practitioners of this form were Nima Youshij, Ahmad Shamlou, Mehdi Akhavan-Salles, and Forough Farrokhzad, all of whom are now dead (it worth mentioning that Nima Youshij is famous for having a role was in breaking away from traditional ballads and style of poetry and was the one who introduced that to public, but was not the first one. Shamlou and his fellow poets like Akhavan-Salles and Sepanloo, who is still living in Tehran have different style of modern poetry which is called white poetry).

he was also one of iran's foremost modernist painters.

sepehri died in pars hospital in tehran of leukemia. his poetry is full of humanity and concern for human values. he loved nature and refers to it frequently. the poetry of sohrab sepehri bears great semblance to that of e.e. cummings.

well-versed in buddhism, mysticism and western traditions, he mingled the western concepts with eastern ones, thereby creating a kind of poetry unsurpassed in the history of persian literature. to him, new forms are new means to express his thoughts and feelings.

his poetry has been translated into many languages including french, english, spanish, italian, swedish and russian.

here is "an Oasis in time":

if you come to visit me
you will find me behind the realm of naught

behind naught there is a place
where
the veins of the air is full of dandelions, who bring
the happy tidings of flowers blossoming at the farthest bush

over the sands,
you can also see
the delicate footsteps of the horseman
who mounted the anemone hill of ascension at morning beyond the realm of naught,

the umbrella of desire has been spread
so that the breeze of thirst can run into the leave’s root,
the siren of the rain resounds
one is lonely here and in this loneliness the shade of an elm stretches to eternity

if you come to visit me,
come gently and slowly
lest the fragile china of my solitude cracks

به سراغ من اگر مي‌آييد،
پشت هيچستانم.

پشت هيچستان جايي است.

پشت هيچستان رگ‌هاي هوا،
پر قاصدهايي است كه خبر مي‌آرند،
از گل واشده دورترين بوته خاك.
روي شن‌ها هم،
نقش‌هاي سم اسبان سواران ظريفي است
كه صبح به سر تپه معراج شقايق رفتند.

پشت هيچستان،
چتر خواهش باز است
تا نسيم عطشي در بن برگي بدود،
زنگ باران به صدا مي‌آيد.
آدم اين‌جا تنهاست
و در اين تنهايي،
سايه ناروني تا ابديت جاري است.

به سراغ من اگر مي‌آييد،
نرم و آهسته بياييد،
مبادا كه ترك بردارد
چيني نازك تنهايي من.