dedicated to the poets and artists of Iran

And

Hannibal Alkhas

Buna Alkhas

And

Mehrad moareknejad

Leyla taheriyan

Rasoul Moareknejad

تا الخاصBuna Alkhas

Translators

Sohrab Rahimi

ظراب رحیوی هععد ظاالریMassoud Salari

مترجمان

Saber Hosseini

صاتر حعییHosein Mackizadeh

حعیي هکی زادNadia Vyshnevska

ادیا یشظکا

adrianne alkhas

آدریاا الخاص

Ali Abedi

Minoo Shahrestani

علی عاتذی

هاا آقاییMana Aghaei

شال اظواعیل زادShahla Esmaeilzadeh

هی شرظتای

Translatorsمترجمان

Mohsen Bolhasani

محسه بالحسىیFereshteh Vaziri Nasab

زیری عةفرشت

Poets شاعران

Sirous Nozari

ظیرض رری فرشت پایFereshteh Panahi Gholamhossein

Mardanian

غالهحعیي هردایاى

Marjan Saebi Rasoul Moareknejad

رظل هعرک صاد

غسل ترایGHazal Borhani

هععد ظاالریMassoud SalariHengameh

Hoveyda

گاه یذا

Hamid Reza

Vatankhah

شرزاد علیوحوذیحویذرظا طي خا

هرجاى صائثی

shahrzad

alimohammadi

Sohrab Rahimi

ظراب رحیویReza Rajaei

شثن آرررظا رجائیShabnam Azar Elham Kianpoor

الام کیاپرHamed Ebrahimi

Lili Taheri Reza Kazemi Sara Siamaki

ظارا ظیاهکیHosein Mackizadeh

حعیي هکی زادNasrin Behjati

Poets شاعران

حاهذ اترایوی

لی لی طاریرظا کاظویعریي تجتی

هی شرظتایMinoo Shahrestani Ali Abedi

علی عاتذیSara Alimardani

(Azar)

علیوردای( آرر ) ظارا

Rahim Majidi Haleh Homayuni

ال وایی

Fahime Jalali Shirin BesharatiSaber Hosseini

صاتر حعییMahsa ZahiriMazaher

Shahamat

Poets شاعران

رحین هجیذی

فیو جاللی شیریي تشارتیهظار شاهت

هعا زیری

Dariush

Moftakhar Hosseyni

Afrouz KazemzadehMoaddab Miralaei Azadeh

Besharaty

Nima

Haj Seyed Javadi

افرز کاظن زاد

Benyamin Javadi

Faranak

Dehghani

Minoo

Khajeh Aldin

الذیي هی خاج

Leila Nouri Naini Mahdis

Mohammadi

هذیط هحوذی

Poets شاعران

هدب هیرعالیی

آزاد تشارتی داریغ هفتخر حعیی

تیاهیي جادیلیال ری ائیییوا حاج ظیذجادی

فراک دقای

Fereshteh

Hesaraki

Mohamad Masoud

Karami

هحوذ هععد کرهی

azadeh

Hazemizadeh

Fereshteh Rasouli

فرشت رظلی

Zahra Heydari Mohammad Hosein

Saffarian

هحوذ حعیي صفاریاى رظا هحودیReza Mahmoodi

هط هحودیMoones Mahmoodi

Poets شاعران

Soshians

Avazfard

Zeynab Choghadi

فرشت حصارکی ظشیاط عض فرد آزاد اظوی زاد

زیة چقادی زرا حیذری

ذا پیرظتایNeda PirestaniRouzbeh Sohani Kaveh Oveisi Simanaz Mehrazar

ظیوااز هرآررArvin Karimi

Farzaneh

Ghavami Samaneh Sarchami

ظوا ظرچویJaleh Abyas

فرزا قاهی

Nooshin Zarnani

شیي زرایSetareh Ansari

ظتار اصاری

Poets شاعران

رزت ظایکا ایعیآریي کریوی

شال اتیط

Khatere Hemmati

خاطر وتیFatemeh

Mohsenzadeh

Maryam Firuzi

هرین فیرزی

Romina Abedi

رهیا عاتذیMahsa Javadi

هعا جادیMohammad

Dalalbashi

Esfahani

Mehdi Azizof Mohsen

Bolhasani

هحعي تالحعی

هذی جلیلیMahdi JaliliKatayoon

Rizkharati

کتایى ریسخراتی

Poets شاعران

هذی عسیسف

هحوذ داللثاشی اصفای

فاطو هحعي زاد

Poets شاعران

Farnaz

Jafarzadegan

فراز جعفرزادگاى

Sahar Norouziyan

ظحر رزیاىAdel Ghazvini

عادل قسییMana Aghaei

هاا آقاییArash Afshar

آرغ افشار

Morteza Rajabi

Mehri Rahmaniهرتعی رجثی

هری رحوایFarnaz Farazmand

فراز فرازهذshahriyar Atai

شریار عطاییParia Tofangsaz

پریا تفگ ظاز

Poets شاعران

Sanaz Golbarg

ظااز گلثرگBehrang Ghassemi

ترگ قاظویAref askari

( kiyan)

(کیاى)عارف ععکرى

Mohammad

Memariyan

هحوذ هعواریاى

Sharareh Jamshid

شرار جوشیذRoya Bijani

ریا تیصی

Andisheh Shahi

اذیش شای

ظاغر راد اخالقی

Saghar

Radakhlaghy هذی لطیفیMahdieh Latifi

Mohammad Rafiei

هحوذ رفیعی

Ashkan Samsam

اشکاى صوصامEve Lilith

ای لیلیج

Roqieh Askari

رقی ععکری پیرای یغواییPirayeh Yaghmaii

Farshad Ghasemi Nejad

فرشاد قاظوی صاد

Kourosh Shiva

ظحر تیایکرغ شیاSahar Bayani

Azita Ghahreman

آزیتا قرهاى

Poets شاعران

علی اظذاللیAli Asadollahi

آرغ هظیArash Mousavi

Shadi Mirzaei

شادی هیرزایی Mina Dehnavi

هیا دیFarnaz Zabetian

فراز ظاتطیاى

Poets شاعران

Farzaneh Bagheri

فرزا تاقری

Neda Fazli

ذا فعلیRoja Chamankar

رجا چوکارBahareh Ziyaei

ظیاییتار Afshin Salehi

صالحیافشیي

Poets شاعران

پل الارPaul Éluard

ظای آکيSunay akın

اظن حکوتNAZIM HİKMET

الرض گظتاظىLars Gustavsson

اراى لی: Orhan Veli Kanık

Fumi Saito

فهی ظایت اکتای پازOctavio Paz

تذ یزTed-Hughes

کج رکط راث Kenneth Rexroth

رهک کاهپرتRemco Campert

شل ظپری یلJules SUPERVIELLE

ظخاخي. یJ.C. van Schagen

Nizar Qabbani

سار قثای

Poets شاعران

یدیت رزترخJudith Herzberg

That same night he got naked

And let his secret be known

Autumn

Love

In a blink of the eye

Like a rock

Falling from the sky

Privacy

In our presence

Two cats in love

What goes to the blossoms

With a breeze

That you cross over us

١ب ت ثف٠١ ؽ ـاقي ـا ؼـ ٨ب ٢بؼ

دب٨٧ك

ػنزب ث٠ ب٢ب

٠ و٦اق آوب

غس٦ؼـ ضـ ب

ؼ فث٠ ٥ ػبن

ثفك٠ ١ب ز٠ ٦ ـؼثب ى٨

٠ اق ب ػجـ ٦ ٦

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

و٨فن ؾـ٥: بػفPoet: Sirous Nozari

We crossed over the snow on foot

The moon, big

Blocked our way

And still

White as white

Fell through the night

Our hands in our coats

We let the moon free in the snow

And in the dark continued to go

No shadow to see, no snow to see, no moon to see

We.

د٨بؼ ـ٥ ثفف ١ب ـا ٦ ـكش٨ب ، ثكـ

وؽ ـا١ب ؽ ١قول٨ؽ ول٨ؽ

٦ ثبـ٧ؽ ؼوز ؼـ خ٨ت ١ب٥ شب

ب ـا ؼـ ثفف ١ب ـ١ب فؼ٧

ؼـ سبـ٦٧ ث٠ ـا١ب اؼا٠ ؼاؼ٧ث٦ وب٠٧ ، ث٦ ثفف ، ث٦ ب

.ب

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as Poet: Rasoul Moareknejadـو ؼفى ماؼ: بػف

Translated by Sohrab Rahimi

Poet ضاعز

Le temps est froid dehors

Il y a un dehors où le temps est froid

Il y a un temps qui est froid

Dehors est là

Le temps est là

Le froid est là

Mais le « est » ?

Est

Est-ce dehors ou est-ce le temps ou est-ce froid ?

Dehors le temps est froid de « est » et le « est » n‟est

pas là

Le « est »

Est quelque part dans le coin

En plein d‟être chaudement

Fermez la porte s‟il vous plaît le temps froid

ث٨ف ١ا وفؼ اوزث٨ف٦ ١ىز ٠ ١ا٧ وفؼ اوز

١ا٦٧ ١ىز ٠ وفؼ اوز

ث٨ف ١ىز١ا ١ىزوفؼ ١ىز

ده اوز ز٦؟

اوزث٨ف اوز ٧ب ١اوز ٧ب وفؼ اوز؟

١ا٥ ث٨ف وفؼ اق اوز اوز اوز ٨ىزاوز

خب٦٧ ٨١ ؼـ ثف ١بوزف اوش غ٧

لب ؼـ ـا ثجؽ٧ؽ ١ا وفؼ

ؿالطى٨ فؼا٨ب: بػفPoet: Gholamhossein Mardanian

Translated

by M

as

so

ud

Sa

lari

خشف

:

٥الـ

وبؼ

ؼى

Behind a table there were two chairs of wood

Two black eyes and two cups of coffee brewed

There, you drank it bitter and lit you cigarette

With the butt of mine and then you would

Blow smoke rings on the other side of yourself

A ghost resembling you sitting in a smoky cloud

Gracefully into the bottom of your cup I intrude

Behind a table there were two chairs of wood

And that afternoon they stared at me strangely

the two black eyes not two cups of coffee brewed

دز ٧ي ٨ك ؼ سب ؽ٦ زث٦ ثؼ ؼ كدب دف اق ه٢ ؼ سب ز جؼ

-سع ٦ ٦ و٨بـ غؼر ـا ـ ٦ ٦ ثب س٠ و٨بـ ثؼؽ اق ؼؼ

ؼا٧ف ؼا٧ف د ٦ ق٦ آ و٥ غؼر٠ ىش٠ اوز ج٠٨ ر جط٦ ؼؼ آؼ

ثب ظفاكز س٠ كدب س ـا ب٧ؽدز ٧ي ٨ك ؼسب ؽ٦ زث٦ ثؼ

ؼـ آ ػف ث٠ ق قؼ ثؼؽ ؿف٧ت٠ ؼ كدب دف اق ه٢ ٠ ؼ ز جؼ

ػفب

:ا

غ

ب

ؽـ٨

ضP

oet

: Ha

mid

Re

za

Va

tan

kh

ah

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

You screamed from inside my throat

The ants came out

From the crevices

Holding their trumpets in their hands

And they made music

For the dirt

For the dead and the living

The wind sang a song

A star cut open its heart

And my world commenced

خ٨ؾ ٨ؽ٥ ؼـ ال ث٠ ال٥ ضوـز٠ ١ب اق ؼـق١ب

ث٨ف آؽؽ٨٨ـ١ب٧ب ـا ؼـ ؼوز فكشؽ

اغشؽثفا٥ غبى

ثفا٥ فؼب قؽ بثبؼ آاق غاؽ

وشبـ ا٥ هج ـا بكز خ٢ب آؿبق ؽ

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: GHazal Borhaniؿك ثف١ب٦: بػف

ث٠ ٧جبـ ثف ج٠ ٥ ددف ٦ اكشؽـ س٨ف ثفم غ٨بثب

ـوف٥ بؼـ آؽ .ؼـ ا٧ ػف

Poet: Rasoul Moareknejadـو ؼفى ماؼ: بػف

Одночасно на підвіконня впало

Світло вуличного ліхтаря

І хустина моєї матері

Цього неквапливого надвечір‟я.

Translated by Nadia Vyshnevskaبؼ٧ب ٧وب: شفخ

At once it fell on the window sill

The light from the street lamp

And my mother‟s scarf

In this stretched out afternoon

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

ث٠ ٧جبـ ثف ج٠ ٥ ددف ٦ اكشؽ

ـ س٨ف ثفم غ٨بثب

ـوف٥ بؼـ

آؽ .ؼـ ا٧ ػف

Poet: Rasoul Moareknejadـو ؼفى ماؼ: بػف

ب٠

غـ٨ؽسب٠ غ٨ه

اق ٨ب ـقب٠ ٥ ػف ؼـ اقؼضب ا٨ب٥ ـ٥ ٨ك

٠ ؼـ وب٠٧ ٥ غؼ آـ٨ؽ اؽ

كف ٦ اكشؽ اشب٦

ثب سفؼ٧ؽثف ١ب٥ ـقب٠ ـا

فـ ٦ ؽآغف٧ وب٠٧اق ج٠ ٥ ٨ك

وو ٦ ؽ غـ٨ؽ

٠ب

آـا ث٦ ؽااق ده ؼوش٠ ٥ ؽ٦

.وف ثف ٦ آـؼ

der Mond

nein,

die Sonne

feucht und verknüllt

geht unter

durch die Abendzeitung

durch die Objekte

des vollgestopften Tisches

die in ihren eigenen Schatten

schlummern

die Finger

blättern skeptisch die Zeitung.

der letzte Schatten

fällt

von dem Tischrand nieder

und die Sonne,

nein

der Mond

steigt sanft und leise

hinter einer Stuhllehne empor

Poet: Rasoul Moareknejadـو ؼفى ماؼ: بػف

Ein Gedicht von Rasoul Moareknejad

Übersetzt von Fereshteh Vaziri Nasab

Translate

d b

y F

ere

sh

teh

Vaziri N

asab

خشف

:

تى

٥٧ف

ق ٠

شكف

The moon,

No,

The sun

Damp and rumple

Sets

Through the evening newspaper,

Through the crammed objects on the table,

Which slumber

Under their own shadows.

And fingers

Thumb through the newspaper

Skeptically

The last shadow

Falls

Off the edge of the table

And the sun,

No,

The moon

Rises silently and softly

From behind the arm of a chair

A Poem by Rasoul Moareknejad

Translated by Fereshteh Vaziri Nasab

ب٠

غـ٨ؽسب٠ غ٨ه

اق ٨ب ـقب٠ ٥ ػف ؼـ اقؼضب ا٨ب٥ ـ٥ ٨ك

٠ ؼـ وب٠٧ ٥ غؼ آـ٨ؽ اؽ

كف ٦ اكشؽ اشب٦

ثب سفؼ٧ؽثف ١ب٥ ـقب٠ ـا

فـ ٦ ؽآغف٧ وب٠٧اق ج٠ ٥ ٨ك

وو ٦ ؽ غـ٨ؽ

٠ب

آـا ث٦ ؽااق ده ؼوش٠ ٥ ؽ٦

.وف ثف ٦ آـؼ

Poet: Rasoul Moareknejadـو ؼفى ماؼ: بػف

Translate

d b

y F

ere

sh

teh

Vaziri N

asab

خشف

:

تى

٥٧ف

ق ٠

شكف

جصـكش٠ ا٥

آكشبة د٢ ـ٥ *

ثػبـ ؼ كدب زب٥ؼـ ١ ٦ آ٨كؼ

غب٦ وز دز ٨ك*

ث٥ اى٦اق سفان ١ىب٠٧ ا٥

وفو٨ ثب *

ا٥ الك٠ ا٥ ه٢الك٠ ا٥ ف

٨ب ب اسلبه٦ ٦ اكشؽ*

٠ ل ػفن٨ب ػق ١ب٥ ١فق ثبؿس٠

*زلز ؼ٧اـ

ا ؼـاق ٨ؽ ٥ س٢ب بـ وب٠٧ ٥ ق

كفش٠ دب٦١: بػفPoet: Fereshteh Panahi

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Morning

You‟ve gone

The sun spreads itself on me

The steam from two cups of tea

Entwines

It is empty behind the table

The smell of the petunias

From the neighbor‟s terrace

Is ignoring me

Brown sheets

Beige sheets

Nothing is going to happen between us

One of the bride‟s slippers

Among the garden weeds

I lay down

Pressed to the baseboards

Next to the shadow of a lone woman

جصـكش٠ ا٥

آكشبة د٢ ـ٥ *

ثػبـ ؼ كدب زب٥ؼـ ١ ٦ آ٨كؼ

غب٦ وز دز ٨ك*

ث٥ اى٦اق سفان ١ىب٠٧ ا٥

وفو٨ ثب *

ا٥ الك٠ ا٥ ه٢الك٠ ا٥ ف

٨ب ب اسلبه٦ ٦ اكشؽ*

٠ ل ػفن٨ب ػق ١ب٥ ١فق ثبؿس٠

*زلز ؼ٧اـ

ا ؼـاق ٨ؽ ٥ س٢ب بـ وب٠٧ ٥ ق

Translated by

adrianne alkhas

كفش٠ دب٦١: بػفPoet: Fereshteh Panahi

La mañana

Te has ido

El sol se estira sobre mi

El vapor de dos tazas de te

Envuelve

Esta vacio detras de la mesa

El olor de las petuñas

De la terraza del vecino

Me esta ignorando

Sabanas marrones

Sabanas crema

No nos pasara nada

Uno de los zapatos de la novia

Entre las mala hierbas del jardin

Me tumbo

Tambien me estiro

Alado de la sombra de una mujer sola

I have taken the city around my head

Street by street you raise the shadows

I place it by the street just a bit visible

Fists against knees two handed stuck to the ground

Oh! My forehead is a masterpiece, the wolves foam

At the mouth on it!

ا ؼـ وف ٢ف ـا ثفؼ

ز٠ ز٠ وب٠٧ ثبال ٦ آـ٥

٦ ؿاـ ثـ غ٨بثب ٦ د٨ؽا

ز ث٠ قا١ب ؼ ؼوش٦ ثسىجؽ ث٠ ق٨

ب١بـ٥ اوز د٨ب٦ ا، ف٢ب ـ٧! آظ

!ق ٦ ؽثب اػب: شفخ

Translated by Alkhas

Poet: Reza Rajaeiـب ـخبئ٦: بػف

ا ؼـ وف ٢ف ـا ثفؼ

ز٠ ز٠ وب٠٧ ثبال ٦ آـ٥

٦ ؿاـ ثـ غ٨بثب ٦ د٨ؽا

ز ث٠ قا١ب ؼ ؼوش٦ ثسىجؽ ث٠ ق٨

ب١بـ٥ اوز د٨ب٦ ا، ف٢ب ـ٧! آظ

!ق ٦ ؽ

را حسی: شفخ

Translated byRoya Hosseini

Poet: Reza Rajaeiـب ـخبئ٦: بػف

Я взял на себя город вокруг моей головы

улица за улицей вы поднимаете тени

Я ставлю его на улице чуть видимый

кулаками двумя руками колени сосать на землю

Ах, мой лоб шедевр, пена волков в устье на это!

ثؼ ؼـآوشب٠ؼ ثؼ ز٢بي

كف ـكش٠ ثؼجبن ػف ث٠ س ؼاز

ا٧ىشبؼ٨ػة بؽ ث٠ ز٢بـ زة ت

ث٠ ا١شكاق ف ؼـ آؽ ثؼ

ؼوز ٨ؽ اق اشظبـؿفه٠ ٥ كفا٦

ؼـ ـآـ٨ؽ ثؼ

بـ ـؼغب٠٦ ـه٨ؽ

He was in the doorway

He had pushed it open a bit and his eyes

Had rings around them

He was wearing house clothes

Standing

He was frozen in place to the framework of night

He was flaunting death

He had ceased waiting

Drowning in forgetfulness

In the grave

He had found comfort

And beside the river

He danced

خ

شف

:

ػب ا

بث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

ػفب

:ؾـ

آ

ج

Poet: S

habnam

Azar

Tw

o G

ilaki P

oem

s (G

ilaki is

the

lan

gu

ag

e o

f Gila

n,

the

pro

vin

ce

in n

orth

ern

Iran

alo

ng

the

so

uth

ea

ste

rn

co

ast o

f the

Ca

sp

ian

Se

a)

1له ٠كغن ثك ؼاـ٦ ٦ الكؽ ؼـ

له ٦ ؽؼـغز ثػشي قؼ٨ب بة ؼـ فؼ

It takes breaths

This nightmare paralyzed treeAlong with this rope around my neck

ثب اػب: شفخ ا٨ى٦Translated by Alkhas

کیگیل

عر ش

دو از

سیفار

مه رج

و تی

لکگی

:ور

یانپ ک

هامال

2ؼ٧ˇؼاـ

دـ خ٠ س٦ س٦ثبؼ زي ق٠

ؼ ؼـغزدف اق ك٠

ثبؼ زي ٦ قؽ

The heart of a tree

Full of blossoms

The wind winks ػف

ب :

ـبذ

٨

٢با

Po

et: E

lham

Kia

np

oo

r

Within me and

The rings and ringlets of my hair

Were lost

A city in the season of tobacco

And sulfur rain

A city

Suspended from the sky

By iron and steel cables

But

It did not exit

Death from the dirt‟s mouth

I from your thoughts

ؼـ ضو٠ ضو٠ ١ب٥ ٥

ؽ٢ف٥ ؼـ ك سجب

ثبـا فؼ٢ف٥

آ٧ػش٠ اق آوبثب ـ٧ىب ا١ دالؼ

اب٦ ؿز

ف اق ؼ١ب غبى. اق غ٨ب س

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

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Po

et: He

ng

am

eh

Ho

ve

yd

a

ػفب

:ؽا

٧١

٠ب

١

1)

Matching patch

Check out this mismatched loneliness

Pin you profile handsome as the moon

To all my pictures of myself alone….

2)

When I walk on my hands

The ground smells like fountain pens

Poems grow out

From the impressions in the dirt

From the shoulders of the poems

Magic beans…

In one more step I will reach

The kisses I left unpicked from you….

ثب اػب: شفخ

Po

et: Sara

Alim

ard

an

i (Azar)

1)٠ ٥ خـ

ا٧ س٢ب٦٧ بخـ ثبيودبم ٨فظ ٢شبث٦ ار ـا

....ث٠ سب ػى٢ب٥ سي لف ا

عرشا

:ـا

وب (

ـ آؾ

)٦

ؼاف

ػ٨

Translated by Alkhas

2)ـ٥ ؼوش٢ب٧ ٠ ـا ٦ ـ

ق٨ ث٥ ه ٦ ٨فؼاق ٨بـ غبىؼف ٦ ـ٧ؽ

اق ب٠ ١ب٥ ؼف...ث٨ب٥ وطفآ٨ك

بؽ ٧ي هؽ سب ثفو ا اق س ... .ث٠ ثو٠ ١ب٥ س٨ؽ

Things pass before my eyes

And the wind stays in my nails

Just like you and I

And you in my hair

With a perfume that has mummified in your eyes

ا٨ب اق زب ٦ ؿـؽ

ثبؼ ال٥ بغ ١ب٧ ٦ بؽ

١س اق س

س ؼـ ١ب٧

ثب ػف٥ ٠ ٨ب٦٧ ؽ ؼـ زبز

Translated by Alkhasثب اػب: شفخ

ك٠٨٢ خال٦: بػفPoet: Fahime Jalali

The ink

runs on crow's feathers

and the tree branch

on straw paper

Suddenly

eternity is formed

in a brief silence.

فتثف دف١ب٥ الؽ

٦ ؼ٧ؽ ؼـغز

بغ٠ ١ب٧ ثف بؿؿ ب٦١

ز٠ ث٦ ١ا ٦ ٨فؼ

اثؽ٧زؼـ وس٦ سب

Translated by Minoo Shahrestani

٨ ٢فوشب٦: شفخ

ـو ؼفى ماؼ:بػفPoet: Rasoul Moareknejad

Inside this coffee shop

All these tables

The wrought iron chairs

End up as a cup

Full of coffee

That your memory

Makes

Even more bitter

ؼـ ا٧ بك٦ بح٠١ ٥ ا٧ ٨ك١ب

ؽ٦ ١ب٥ كفكلث٠ كدب٦ غش ٦ ؽ

دف اق ه٢٠ ٧بؼ س

آ ـاسع سف ٦ ؽ

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ـو ؼفى ماؼ:بػفPoet: Rasoul Moareknejad

The road

Like a tangled ball of yarn

I will tie in knots

I will throw it

Into the mirror

I will turn into snow

And I will cover over

the shadow of your hands

That moves

In the frame of the mirror

And my footsteps

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

عزضا

:از

ژک

عز ه

لس

رP

oet

: Ras

ou

l Mo

are

kne

jad

خبؼ ـا

١س الك٦ وفؼـ

ف غا١ قؼ

ث٠ ؼـ آ٠٧

دفسبة غا١ فؼ

ثفف غا١ ؽ

وب٠٧ ؼوشب س ـا

٠ ؼـضب٠٨ آ٠٧

سب ٦ غـؽ

ـؼ دب٧ ـا

.غا١ دبؽ

A dancing leaf, its excuse a breeze

And dancing our memories,

A crow left to roam writes the end of the story

It makes a mirror break down and cry

Until you realize

I died piece by piece

So that bit by bit

You would become beautiful…

ـه ثف ث٠ ث٢ب٠ ٥ ثبؼ ـه٨ؽ ٧بؼ ،

. آاـ٦ الؽ آغف ه٠ ـا ـه ٦ قؽ ثـ آ٠٧ ـا ٦ ؽ

سب س ثل٦٢ س٠ س٠ فؼ

سب ؾـ ؾـ ...ق٧جب ٥

Translated by Alkhasثب اػب: شفخ

٨ ٢فوشب٦: بػفPoet: Minoo Shahrestani

It was returning lighthearted

The pregnant cloud that on your porch

Had rained …

وججب ثف٦ ز

اثف آثىش٦ ٠ ث٠ ا٧ا س

...ثبـ٧ؽ ثؼ

Translated by Alkhas

ثب اػب: شفخ

ضبؽ اثفا٦٨١: بػفPoet: Hamed Ebrahimi

1)

I have seen you in my dreams

On that same sofa

Like we always did

You came, you laughed, you kissed

And left without waking me

A stairway smells like you

2)

His place is still warm with me

And you are his new warmth

The shadows playing in your room‟s windows

Makes me feel sorry for myself

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٦ ٦ ب١ف٥: بػفPoet: Lili Taheri

1) ا غاثز ـا ؼ٧ؽـ٥ ٨١ ببد٠ث ٦٨١ ١ب٧بآؽ٥، غؽ٧ؽ٥، ثو٨ؽ٥ث٨ؽاـ فؼ ـكش٦ـا د٠ ا٥ ث٥ س ٦ ؼ١ؽ

2 )ا خب٧ ١ق اق ف س ف سبق٦ ١ب٧٦ وقؼ ؼ ثفا٥ غؼ ٥ اسبهز اق ثبق٥ وب٠٧ ١ب٥ ددف

٦ ٦ ب١ف٥: بػفPoet: Lili Taheri

1) ا غاثز ـا ؼ٧ؽـ٥ ٨١ ببد٠

ث ٦٨١ ١ب٧بآؽ٥، غؽ٧ؽ٥، ثو٨ؽ٥

ث٨ؽاـ فؼ ـكش٦ـا د٠ ا٥ ث٥ س ٦ ؼ١ؽ

2 )ا خب٧ ١ق اق ف

س ف سبق٦ ١ب٧٦ وقؼ ؼ ثفا٥ غؼ

٥ اسبهز اق ثبق٥ وب٠٧ ١ب٥ ددف

1)

Te he visto en mis sueños

En ese mismo sofá

Como éramos siempre

Veniste, reíste, besaste

Sin despertarme te fuiste

Hay una escalera que huele de ti

2)

Su sitio en mi aun esta caliente

Y tu su calor de novedad

Me doy lastima

Del juego de las sombras de la ventana de mi

habitación

Translated by adrianne alkhas

خشف

:

ػب

ابب

ـ٧آؼ

Under my wings

There is so much shade

That the sun-struck masses run for shelter…

.

One day

A royal hawk

That is not of the others

Will land

In search of this shadelessness…

Yet still

It will land…

١ب٥ ق٧ف ثبوب٠٧

آوؽـ ١ىز ٠ ٥ آكشبة قؼ ٦ ؼؽ ...قف

ـق٥كف ٦ آ٧ؽ

ثبق ب٦١ث٠ ١ا٥ ث٦ وب٠٧ ا٥

...اق آ ؼوز ٠ ٨ىز

اب...كفؼ ٦ آ٧ؽ

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ؼاـ٧ي لشػف ضى٦٨: بػفPoet: Dariush Moftakhar Hosseyni

I‟ve lost moments in time

And you

I will remain

Remain till old

One day you will return again

Maybe…

Maybe…

طظ٠ ١ب س ـا اق ؼوز ؼاؼ

٦ بسب د٨ف ٦ ب

ـق٥ ؼثبـ ثبقغا٦١ ز...ب٧ؽ...ب٧ؽ

Translated by Alkhas

كفش٠ ضبـ٦: بػفPoet: Fereshteh Hesaraki

I started today

And I forget how long flowers live

The days run by

Is today Sunday or tomorrow?

It‟s no matter

As long as you are here

God is here

Our neighbor is here

That is enough

افق ـا آؿبق فؼ ١ب زوؽـ اوز كفاي ٦ ػف

ـق١ب ١ ف٧كاؽافق ٧ج٠ اوز ٧ب ب٧ؽ كفؼاوز؟

٢ ٨ىز٨١ ٠ س ١ىش٦

غؽا ١ىز١ىب٠٧ ب ١ىز

بك٦ اوز

كفش٠ ضبـ٦: بػفPoet:

Fereshteh Hesaraki

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A little rebel

Plucks my notes

My pages turn

In a sorrowful possibility

It‟s only that

He knows hours before you do.

And I

Have been planted in dust

And the pain of a dream that turned its back on

me

I fold myself up

Within the bedsheet‟s of life.

آثف٥ زيز ١ب٥ فا ٦ اقؼ

ؼـ ٧ي اضشب ؿ٨ـم ٦ غـ

كو ا٧دبوز.٠ وبػز ١ب قؼسف اق س ٦ ؼؽ

ا ؼـ ؿجبـ بش٠ ؽ

ؼـؼ ـ٧ب٦٧ ٠ ث٠ دز فؼال٥ الك٠ ١ب٥ قؽ٦

P. سب ٦ غـo

et: Afro

uz K

aze

mza

deh

ػفب

:ؼ

قاظ

بق

فاك

He is leaning on a wall

His hands

His face

As if they are bruised by the cold

No one knows who he is

Or what he has had to take

اوز ثف ؼ٧اـ٥ س٠٨ ؼاؼ

ؼوز ١ب٧

اي ز٢ف

ابـ اق وفب جؼاؽ

٨ىز ٨١ر ه ٦ ؼاؽ

. ز٠ ٨ؽ اوز

Translated by Alkhas

ثب اػب: شفخ

ؼة ٨فػال٦٧: بػفPoet: Moaddab Miralaei

When death

Wrung the necks of our old ducks

It did not see our empty hands

When the wind

Broke a young branch of an apple tree

The fields had forgotten

The sorrow in your eyes..

هش٦ ف٥ اـؼى ١ب٥ د٨فب ـا كفؼ

ؼوز ١ب٥ غب٦ ب ـا ؽ٧ؽهش٦ ثبؼ

بغ٠ ٥ و٨ت خا ـا ىز ١ب٧ز ـا كاـع اؽ ز

.اق ٧بؼ ثفؼ ثؼ Translated by Alkhas

ثب اػب: شفخ

آقاؼ ثبـس٦: بػفPoet: Azadeh Besharaty

How challenging it is

To walk on this earth

When by your side

I feel like a bird

Who has ripped apart the bars of a cage.

ثب اػب: شفخ

ز٠ ؼاـ اوزثف ـ٥ ق٨ ـا ـكشهش٦ ؼـ بـر ا٥ ؼاـ ضه دفؽ.٠ ضبـ هله ـا ؼـ٧ؽ اوز

٨ب ضبج و٨ؽخاؼ٥: بػفPoet: Nima Haj Seyed Javadi

Translated by Alkhas

1)

Everybody says, “What a kind man he is!”

Yet nobody knows

It is your smile oon my lips

When oover the ocean

You think of me

2)

The cocoon of my loneliness

Never hatched.

But no mind!

I‟ve now become the silk in your blouse!

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

1)!ز٠ ٢فثب اوز ا٧ فؼ: ٠١ ٦ ٧ؽ

ى٦ ٦ ؼاؽت غؽ ساوز ـ٥ ت ١ب٧

و٥ ؼـ٧ب١ب هش٦ آ٧بؼ ٦ ٦

2)د٠٨ ٥ س٢ب٦٧ ا

لش٠ ؽ ٨١ر هز!اب ز٠ ثبى

ا ضبال ر ؽ !اثف٧ د٨فا١

ـب بظ٦: ضاعزPoet:Reza Kazemi

An apple spun

And fell to the ground

And from that point on

Everything hung in the air;

Words,

Loves…

Voices got stuck in the throat

Beliefs turned to stone

No one took the decaying

Law of gravity seriously

و٨ج٦ زفظ غـؼ ث٠ ق٨ اكشبؼاق آ ث٠ ثؼؽ

٠١ ز٨ك ؼـ ١ا ؼن بؽ؛ال ١ب ،...ػن ١ب

ؽا ١ب ؼـ ىزثبـ ١ب و ؽ

ى٦ خؽ٥ فكز هب دو٨ؽ ٥ خبؾث٠ ـا

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بثف ضى٦٨: بػفPoet:Saber Hosseini

١ب٥ و٦ ث٠ قب ب ثب ز ١ب ب ١ب٥ غب٦، ث٠ و .ثب ز

١ب ب اق ا٧ىشب ١ب٥ و٦ ث٠ زث٦٨ سب ثؽ٦١ سبة ثؽ٦١ؼوشز ـا ؼـ ؼوز ؼاش٠ ثب٦اوشفاضز ٦ ث٦٨ ؼـ وب٠٧

ثبو٦ آـا ـاضه ٦ ثؽا٦

آب٥ ار ـاثدب ث٨بـ٥ له ١ب٧ز ـا ج

Look at time with eyes of stone

Look at the stones with empty eyes

From stoney stations look at eyes

Sit, rock, swing

Hold on to your hand in your hand

Relax sit in the shade

Understand the calm

Feel know

Get aquainted

Bring your pulse to its place your breaths

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اب

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I don‟t know

In which pocket you had hidden

Your „I love you‟s

That however hard I looked

I couldn‟t find them!

I

Became a sacrifice to words

When for the first time

They composed you

What a pity!

My eyes were so black

That their burnt verses

You did not comprehend for even a moment…

٨ؽاؼوشز ؼاـ ١ب ـا

ؼـ ؽا خ٨جز د٢ب فؼ ثؼ٥٠ ١فز٠ ش

!د٨ؽا فؼ

هفثب٦ ال ١ب ؽهش٦ ثفا٥ ا٨ ثبـ

سـا وفؼؽ! اكىن

ز٢ب٧ ث٠ هؽـ٥ و٨ب ثؼ٠ ؼف١ب٥ وغش٠ اي ـا

...طظ٠ ا٥ ل٨٢ؽ٥

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كفاي ؼ١وب٦: بػفPoet: Faranak Dehghani

اي رسا عجة غسان گزفر اسد

تاس تزای ذسرگن چای زم کن

تاس اس اي اذاق کوی گزم ذز ضم

فکزی ت حال ذسرگی هفزطن کن

اي زسد ا ت گزی ک اسرکاى ذلد

پای گا ساکد هي ال کزز اس

ضاس غسای غلغل اي لحظ ای پز

ضة را ت ذاب تزز زا کزز اس

زر ارای رازی ک وی رسس

زگز ت چ هظز ی پاک رضی

تاس ک هش غسلن را تثسم

تار کن طسر ای زم وی سی

تار کن س پز اس هل تزن

ذا پل ای ذاکی ضة زر ام کس

تاال ذز اس وط زذا ها ل ای

ضاس تزای ذسرگن چای زم کس

زارم ذال هی کن اس ضة گذضر ام

تز گزز ای سگی های ضکسر تال

زارم کار عکس ذزم زز هی ضم

چ ذالی اسد اي ذال؟... اها س ن

تاس اذاق کچک ذز را عؼ کن

There is a strange sadness in my voice these days

For my weariness I must brew pot of tea

I need to be a bit warmer than this room

And do something to alleviate this ennui

These hands hold the waist of this bitter tea glass

At the foot of my quiet gaze making a nest

Is it the bubbling sound of this ancient moment

That brings insanity and puts the night to rest

At the end of a hallway that no longer

Arrives at any unstained or lighted view

I must set to rest my writing desk and chair

And believe as you sit no breath escapes you

And believe I still have the desire to be

Until the earthen stairs of the night surround me

And higher than ever now these two brownish moons

For my weariness they just might brew me some tea

I am imagining I have passed the night through

On the stony sides of a broken winged fish

I am turning to smoke besides my own pictures

Yet however…What kind of a wish is this wish?

I have to get out of this small room of mine

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

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Po

et: Paria

To

fan

gsaz

عرشا

:اس

سگ

ف ذاپز

Together with you I have lost all of my Isfahan

Until one day when I find where half my world has gone

Until the time I am surrounded by your Tatar hordes

Till all is destroyed of what is left of my Isfahan

Completely open up the fortresses of my mountains

Plunder and pillage my treasure guarded by no one

On these crumbling castle walls I will give my bone marrow

To the wind to keep them from your gangs of Gengis Khan

Until the untouched Islamic patterns of your tresses

Once more over the porticos of my eyebrows is drawn

As rhyming couplets take my two worthless arms and wrap

Them around yourself like Baba Taher Orion!

I have been keeping myself awake behind your eyelids

Until you open the gates of my Naghshe Jahan*

*-Translates to “image of the world” the central square in Isfahan, 160m by

508m, surrounded on its four sides by the “the Shah’s Mosque, the Sheikh

Abdolla Mosque, Ali Qapu Palace, and the bazaar.”

ثب س فؼ سب ال٢ب ـاسب ػبهجز د٨ؽا ق خ٢ب ـا

سب ف سبسبـ س ؼـ زبـو٥ ٧فا ؽ ده بؽ ١ب٥ ال٢ب ـا

ؼل١ب٥ ١ىشب٦ ا ـا ثبق ثب٧ؽؿبـر ؽ د٤٨ ث٦ دبوجب ـا

ثف ثبؼ غا١ ؼاؼ ثف ا٧ ثبـ٥ ٧فااق ز ز٨ك س ـك اوشػا ـا

سب و ثف او٦٨ ٨ى٧زاق ثذبؽ ـام اثفا ـا

!ؼـ غؼ ثذ٨سب ثبق ثبثبب١ف ػف٧بث ؼ ث٨ش٦ ثبقا بسا ـا

بؽ ا ث٨ؽاـ دز دي ١ب٥ ر.سب ا ٦ ؼـاق٣ و خ٢ب ـا

ثب اػب: شفخ Translated by Alkhasق٧ت زهبؼ٥: بػف

Poet: Zeynab Choghadi

Before I let out the tears for memories that remain

I have a need to relinquish all the knots to the rain

One night without giving heed to the curtains or the walls

I must sit alone and take a look at the window pane

In order to disrupt the sleep of every cricket

I need to drink two or three goblets from the garden‟s vein

Where are the sun‟s sequins for me to jingle in the night?

To rid this house of moths so they never come back again

To refresh my breath without anxiety or sorrow

I have to give this heart water to rid it of all pain

سب ف٠٧ ثـ ٠١ غبف ١ب ـاثب٧ؽ ٠ ث٠ سكب ثؽ١ بوف ١ب ـا

ثب٧ؽ ٠ ج٦ ث٦ غجف اق دفؼ ؼ٧اـثب غؼ ث٠ سبب ثجف ددف ١ب ـا

ثب٧ؽ ؼو٠ خب٦ ق ـ ثبؽ ثألش٠ غاة ٠١ قدف ١ب ـا

؟ دي غـ٨ؽ ٠ ثف ت ثشبث٨ف اق غب٠ ٠١ ت دف ١ب ـا

ثب٧ؽ لى٦ سبق ث٦ ؿ س٧ثب٧ؽ ث٠ ؼ آة ؼ١ ؼ٢ف ١ب ـا

Translated by Alkhasثب اػب: شفخ

Po

et: Jale

h A

byas

ػفب

:

اث٨ ٠

لا

Translated by Alkhas

تا الراظ: هرزجن

And even if we count the fingertipYou owe meLet me see your fingers

Did you see that ten of my fingersAre on your handsGrasp who I amIn an embrace.

وف اش٦ ١ ٠ ضىبة ٨

س ث٠ ثؽ١بـ٥

اشبز ـا ث٨بـ

ؼ٧ؽ٥ ؼ اق اشب

ؼـ ؼوشب ساؽ

فا ؼـ٧بة

.ث٠ آؿ٦ رحن هجسی: ضاعز

Poet: Rahim Majidi

A dam of tears and

Things thrown around

Drawing water

And a sigh

The water from

The aches of my young bones

In the footsteps of a signature,

To hell with the misunderstandings of men!

ثـ ثف ١ قؼ

او آة آ ٨ؽ

آة اقؼـؼ اوػا ١ب٥ خا٦ ا٧

ؼـ ـؼ دب٥ اب ٥ ،!ح ك٦٢ فؼب ؼـ ـ تا الراظ: هرزجن

Translated by Alkhas

Poet: Shirin Besharatiضزي تطارذی: شاعر

1)

Shells

The only excuse

That my fingers joint by joint

In the joint…

A white seagull

Paints

At the end of the horizon

Its freedom

2)

Dusk

The sun puts on

Sunglasses

Its sonnet time

My wings

Are tired

Oh close one

Don‟t leave me

I wish

To fly

1)ؽف ١بس٢ب ث٢ب٠

٠ ثؽ ثؽ اشبؼـ ثؽ

وب٦ فؼفؽ ول٨ؽ ؼـ٧ب٦٧

ؼـ اش٢ب٥ اكن،آقاؼ٥ اي ـا

2)ؿفة

غـ٨ؽ ػ٨ي و٨بث٠ ز ٦ قؽ

هز ؿك اوز

١ب٧ ثبغىش٠ اوزا٥ كؼ٧يـ١ب٧

آـق٥.دفاق ؼاـ

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

تا الراظ: هرزجن

ضزي تطارذی: ضاعزPoet: Shirin Besharati

”و٨كؼ"

ى٦ ٦ آ٧ؽث٦ آ ٠ آؽ ثبؽ

ث٦ آ ٠ آؽ٦ ؼـ بـ ثبؽ ضش٦زؽ فث٠ ث٠ ؼـ ٦ ثؽ

ز ٧ب ١لز فث٠ؼـ ـا ثبق ٦ ٦

ؼاغ ٦ ؼـ ث٠ ـ٧ز ٦ ٨ؽ

ز آ٠٧ ا٥ثفا٧ز ؼف٥ ٦ غاؽ

ث٦ آ ٠ ؼف٥ غاؽ ثبؽث٦ آ ٠ ؼف٥ ؼـ بـ ثبؽ ضش٦

***...ثؼؽ

ا آ خب ىش٠ اوزؼـ سوبـ آ٦٨٧ اي

س...٨ىش٦

“THIRTEEN”

Somebody is coming- with no comingEven without the existence of coming Knocking at the doorSIX or SEVEN timesYou open the doorComing inSitting in front of youLike a mirrorReading a poem for you- with no readingEven without the existence of any poetry***Later...

Sitting thereat the symmetry of its existence’s imageandyouare not thereanymore...

ال٢ب

آة…... ثبؼ

ب ١ب٦٧٠ د٠ ١ب ـا

ؼـ زفغ ٧ف٧كؼـ ٦ قؽ

آاق ىبكف٥اق ده ا٧ ١ال٦ ١ب٥ فـ

ث٠ ي ٦ ـوؽز ١ب٦٧ غ٨ف

ثف ؼوز ١ب٥ بقى د٨ب٠ ١ب٥ ىش٠ ثف ؼ٧اـ

ؽا٦٧ ثه ؼـاق ٨ب زؽا ىبكف

ػش٨و٠ ١بوب ١بوز

كفاي. ض ٦ ؽ

Po

et: R

asou

l Mo

arekn

ejad

Isfahan

Water…

Wind…

Constant steps

That wind around the stairs

The song of a traveler

Reaches the ears

From the behind this monotonous crescent moon

Eyes fixed

On fragile hands and

Goblets broken on the wall

A sound so far

From within the travelers luggage

And antiques

Forgotten for years

Are lugged around.

Translated by Alkhasثب اػب: شفخ

ػفب

:اؼ

مى

ؼف

وـ

Есфаган

Вода...Вітер...

Кроки,що сходинкиУдар за ударомВіддаляють

Пісня подорожнього,Яка з-під цих півмісяців склепінь [моста]Чується

Хмільні очіНа тонких рукахГлиняні чаші, розбиті об стіну

Голос дуже далекий

Між чемоданом мандрівникаІ старожитностямиРокиЗабуттяпроминали

ال٢ب

آة…... ثبؼ

ب ١ب٦٧٠ د٠ ١ب ـا

ؼـ زفغ ٧ف٧كؼـ ٦ قؽ

آاق ىبكف٥اق ده ا٧ ١ال٦ ١ب٥ فـ

ث٠ ي ٦ ـوؽز ١ب٦٧ غ٨ف

ثف ؼوز ١ب٥ بقى د٨ب٠ ١ب٥ ىش٠ ثف ؼ٧اـ

ؽا٦٧ ثه ؼـاق ٨ب زؽا ىبكف

ػش٨و٠ ١بوب ١بوز

كفاي. Translated byض ٦ ؽ

Nadia Vyshnevska

Po

et: R

asou

l Mo

arekn

ejad

ػفب

:اؼ

مى

ؼف

وـ

زفا ف٠٧ ٦ ٦!ضا! ٦١

ثب ساا٢ب٧ز ـا دبى

ث٢بـ ٠ ث٨ب٧ؽؼـغشب و٨ت

كو ثفا٥ س ك٠ ٦ ؼ١ؽ Translated by Alkhasثب اػب: شفخ

What are you crying forHey! EveI’m talking to youWipe your tearsWhen Spring arrivesThe apple treesWill only blossom for you

فخب بئج٦: بػفPoet: Marjan Saebi

1)

The hot summer‟s sky

And the window which fills the gap until I kill time

The afternoon guest room

The minutes that believe in your return

The house that defines god

2)

Your voice has the meter of a happy tale

The sound of the roof‟s wind does not put me up for sale

There is nothing else here but love

The spider‟s web has also filled the room with pearls

The lament of loneliness slows down

When

The empty space where I have never been calms down

3)

I have come to watch you

Lucifer is still faithful to me

1)آوب سبثىشب٦ ف

ددف ا٥ ٠ دف ٦ ؽ كب٠ ـا سب هز ٦اسبم ٢ب اق٥ ثؼؽ اق ظ٢ف

ؼه٨و٠ ١ب٥ ؤ ثبقشز.غب٠ ا٥ ٠ غؽاؽ ـا سؼف٧ق ٦ ؽ

2)ؽار ق ه٠ غجػش٦ وز

آا٥ ثبؼ ٨فا٦ ؾ١ فا ضفاج ٦ ؽا٧ خب خك ػن ٨١ر ز٨ك ٨ىز

سبـ١ب٥ ػجر اسبم ١ اق فاـ٧ؽ اوزسفا٠ ٥ س٢ب٦٧ آ١ىش٠ سف ٦ ؼ

هش٦كب٥ س٦٢ ١فك جؼ ا آـا ٦ ٨فؼ

3)ث٠ سببر آؽ ا

١ق اث٨ه ث٠ كبؼاـ اوز

تا الراظ: هرزجنTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Haleh Homayuniال وای: شاعر

Tiredness gets stuck on bending fingers

Who pours tea after it is brewed?

This is the address itself

That exact place where I was never supposed to be

It will not be built up or destroyed any more

Listen to the sound of the whistle of the genies and faeries

From which dark and hidden corner is it from?

Do you see

I have been taken into slavery

From that very day when you set me free.

غىش٦ ؼـ سبغـؼ اشب ٨ف فؼ اوزز٠ ى٦ زب٥ ٦ ـ٧كؼ هش٦ ؼ ٨ؽ؟

آؼـن ٨١ اوز ١بدب٦٧ ٠ هفاـ ثؼ ١فك ٨ب٧٠ وبغش٠ سف ٦ ؼ ٠ ٧فا٠ سف،

ي ث٠ ؽا٥ ور اقبث٢شفاق ؽا ح سبـ٧ي بؼ اوز؟

٦ ث٦٨ ث٠ ثفؼ٦ فكش٠ اؽ فا

.اق١ب ـق٥ ٠ آقاؼ فؼ ا٥

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Morteza Rajabiفس٦ ـخج٦: بػف

I know

They deny

Your perfume in the room

And they draw

A red line

Across my kisses

Let my poems

Stay right here

With an unbroken code

Keeping distant from scissors yet

Near to your nakedness

٦ ؼاػف س ـا ؼـ اسبم

ابـ ٦ ؽ غ هفك

ـ٥ ثو٠ ١ب٥ ٦ ــــــــؽ

ثؿاـ ؼف١ب٧ خب ثبؽ ٨١

ـ٥ ٨١ ؽ١ب٥ ىؽؼ٠ اق ؼوز ه٨س٦ ؼـ اوز

ث٠ ػف٧ب٦ س كؼ٧ي

تا الراظ: هرزجنTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Arash Afsharآرش افطار: شاعر

How silent is

This dress that sits on a body,

These tired hands,

Death,

In the neighborhood of my vocal chords

Has made its home

Impregnated

Hatred

Between each inhaling and exhaling

What a body this poem has

Wind once again from this window

Brings your scent into this house

زوؽـ ور ؼاـؼا٧ د٨فا١ ىش٠ ثف س

.ا٧ ؼوشب غىش٠ف،

ؼـ ضا٦ ضدف اغب٠ فؼ

ل٠ ثىش٠لفر

٨ب ١ف ؼ ثبقؼز٠ اؽا٦ ؼاـؼ ا٧ ؼف

ثبق ثبؼ اق ا٧ ددف ثبقث٥ س ـا ث٠ ا٧ غب٠ آـ

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

Po

et: Farn

az Z

ab

etia

n

ػفب

:

٨ببث

ق فب

ك

Pull off your scab

With your thumb and index

Bury it

Under the cigarette ashes,

The last puff is near.

The wind blows.

When the curtain moves aside

Keep staring at the red light

It will turn green

Move your thoughts

Towards forgetting

قغـ غــي ـؽ ار ـا ،ثـب كــبـ ــز اـبـ خـؽا ـ

ؼكــ ـ ق٧ـف غـبـىـشـف وـ٨ــبـ٥،

.ـ٠ ـب آغـفي ـكؼ٧ـي اوـز.ثـبؼ ـ٦ قؼ

دـفؼ ـ٠ ثـ٠ ــبـ٥ ـكـزثـ٠ زـفاؽ هـفـك غـ٨ـف ثــب

وـجـك ـ٨ـؼضـفـز ثـؽ اكــبـر ـا

ثب اػب: شفخـ ثـ٠ كـفاــ٦Translated by Alkhas

Poet: Mina Dehnavi

٨ب ؼ٥١: بػف

Borrow my breaths

Let me put some huff and puff in your lungs

Deep

Stay

And talk

About the throat I put aside for you

Stay a re-feather my goose down pillow

I‟ll bring the feathers for you myself this time

They‟re tired

Your hands

Where should I bring those from?

The candlestick‟s mouths are tired of pleading

And your feet?

That once upon a time made holes in the earth

I‟ll just

Throw myself to the ground

Wet your shoes with my blood

And let it go

Accept my life that I offer you

له ١ب٧ ـا هف ث٨فثؿاـ١ف ١ف ؼـ ـ٠٧ ١ب٧ز ثؽ

ػ٨ن ثب

ضفف ثك اق ضدف ا٥ ٠ ثفا٧ز بـ ؿاش٠ ا

ثب ثب دف ه٧ ـا ؼثبـ دفدف١ب٧ ـا ا٧جبـ غؼ ثفا٧ز ٦ آـ

غىش٠ اؽؼوش٢ب٧ز

آ٢ب ـا اق دب ث٨بـ؟ؼؽا٦ ١ب ؼ١ب ب غي ؽ اق اشبن

دب١ب٥ ار ؟ ٠ ـق٥ ق٨ ـا وـاظ ٦ فؼاال

غؼ ـا ق٨ ٦ ق ل ١ب٥ ار ـا ث٠ غ سف

ثؿـ خب ـا اق ثذؿ٧ف

تا الراظ: هرزجنTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Roqieh Askariرل عسکزی: شاعر

Woman has served a bit of herself on a plate

Man says, “Again.”

Woman is filling up a second plate

Tomorrow

The report of the digestion of the parts of the

sides

It protrudes from the biceps

Her heart

Her blood

Her liver

It will turn into her honey

And her extra parts

With a screw from the corners

It will pour into her nosiness

Turn the page!

Her dream is a repeat

ق ٦ اق غؼي ـا ؼـ ثوبة ـ٧ػش٠ اوزثبق ١: فؼ ٦ ٧ؽ

ق ؼاـؼ ثوبة ؼ ـا دف ٦ ؽكفؼا

كاـي ١ اخكا ؼـ االعاق ثبق ث٨ف ٦ قؽ

هجغخفي

ػى غا١ؽ ؽ ابكبس

ثب د٨س٦ اق ٠ ١بث٠ كالس غا١ؽ ـ٧ػز

!ـم ثكـ٧ب٧ سفاـ٥ وز

تا الراظ: هرزجنTranslated by AlkhasPoet: Eve Lilith

ا للس: شاعر

It is not always up to you to choose

This love is not something that you can lose

You are as clear as a crystal mirror

You just sit here the brightness to refuse

Tell me how many times I must pray for rain

Waiting here for sunshine I sit with the blues

You were created contrary to my pleas

To destroy my days and my feelings abuse

Even with all the fingers of the universe

You wouldn‟t be able to total my sorrows

Put to sleep the frozen veins of my faith

Unless you totally submerge my caboose..!

٠٨١ ؼوز غؼر ٨ىز اشػبة ٦٦ سا٦ اقا٧ ػن اخشبة ٦

سث آ٠٧ ١ب٦٧ قال بف ابىش٠ ا٥ ٠ كو ـ ـا خاة ٦

ث زوؽـ ثػا بق ثبـا ـاؼ فكش٠ ٠ ٧جبـ آكشبة ٦

س آكف٧ؽ ؽ٥ ثفغالف ضبخز ٠ ضب ـقفا ث٨شفغفاة ٦

اف ؼ١ؽ وفاش٢ب٥ ػب ـا٦ ؼؿ ا٧ فؼ ـا ضىبة ٦

ثك ث٠ غاة ـ ادبؼ ا٧ب..!ف ٠ هت خة فا س آة ٦

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

Po

et: Ash

kan

Sam

sam

ػفب

:ب

ب

ا

Streets Around the Earth

I still dream

My red bike

On the green beach of summer

The shadow of my hair

Wild in the water

And my fists

Full of grapes

Growing up

And getting taller was tough

In the weather of thorns and rocks

Giving up my colorful marbles one by one

And friendless

Sitting on the curb

With a rusty bicycle in the storage room

A picture of green roads on the wall.

ز٠ ١ب٥ ؼـ ق٨

١ق غاة ٦ ث٨ؼزفغ٠ ٥ هفك ـا .ثف وبض وجك سبثىشب

وب٠٧ ١ب٧ ـا دف٧ب ؼـ آة

ز ١ب٧ ـا .دف اق ضج٠ ١ب٥ اـ

ثكـ ؽ هؽ٨ؽ٦ ؼاـ ثؼ

ؼـ١ا٥ غبـ و اق ق ؼاؼ ٧ي ٧ي س٠٨ ١ب٥ ـبـ

ث٦ ١جبق٥ بـ ز٠ ىش

ثب ؼزفغ٠ ٥ ق قؼ ا٥ ؼـ اجبـ .ػى٦ اق خبؼ ١ب٥ وجك ثف ؼ٧اـ

ثب اػب: شفخ Translated by Alkhas

Po

et: A

zita

Gh

ah

rem

an

ػفب

:

ب٢ف

ب هق٧ش

آ

Sunday Gets Lost Here

Wind makes the margins of running clearer

Light has hidden porticos

Sunday gets lost here

From a dress that has no control over its jumping

From amongst all those dimensions and lines and

faces

Only thin eyebrows

She wrote a short example

Nights the room awake she paces

Behind the crumpling of paper

I have taken in the dizziness of a woman…

Who keeps on pulling a little girl out from the water

And she slips again

As soon as you blink, you believe…

ا٧دب ٧ج٠ ٦ ؼ

ضا٦ ؼ٧ؽ ـا اص سف ٦ ؽ ثبؼ ا٧ا ١ب٥ ػل٦ ؼاـؼ ـ

ا٧دب ٧ج٠ ٦ ؼ

اق د٨فا٦١ ٠ اغش٨بـ دف٧ؽ ؽاـؼاق ٨ب آ٠٢ وص غ ب٧

س٢ب اثف١ب٥ ثبـ٧يوفن سب٦١ ز

ـا ٦ ـؼ ث٨ؽاـ٥ اسبم ت ١ب

دز غ غ ١ب٥ بؿؿ....٨د٦ ق٦ ـا فكش٠ ا

٠ ؼغشف ثس٠ ـا ٦١ اق آة ٦ ٨فؼ ؼثبـ وف ٦ غـؼ

....سب دي ٦ ق٦، ثبـ ٦ ٦

تا الراظ: هرزجن Translated by Alkhas

آسرا لزهاى: ضاعز

Poet: Azita Ghahreman

You have gone

And in each man

Left behind a piece of yourself

Like the rain

On the jungle…

I am thirsty

It‟s not my fault, my dear!

You have rained more than enough!

ـكش٠ ا٥ ؼـ ١ف فؼ٥

س٠ ا٥ اق غؼر ـا خب ؿاش٠ ا٥ث ثبـا

٠ هف ١ب٥ غؼ ـا..ثف خ

س٠ ا!سو٨ف ٨ىز ػك٧ك

!س ث٦ اؽاق ثبـ٧ؽ ا٥تا الراظ: هرزجن

Translated by Alkhas

فزسا تالزی: ضاعز

Poet: Farzaneh Bagheri

The owl that did not keep its wings and feathers inside its heart

Within the shadow of its own gray ashes was torn apart

He illustrated a fallen woman in his memory

Now his own blind and deaf people this night‟s homework have to start

Your laughter was chewed off by the teeth of a rabbit

From the sting of sucking you while your mouth was on the tit

I came apart in three pieces you chewed me and left

The small teeth of the moon were a comb which the rain hit

خـؽ٥ ٠ جىز ؼ ث٠ ثب دف غؼ

٧فا ؽ ؼـ وب٠٧ ٥ غبىشف غؼ

ؼـ غبف غؼ ٧ي ق بس٠ ٨ؽ

ؽ ن ت فؼ ـ ف غؼ

غفي ٠ ـ٥ غؽ ار ؼؽا قؼ

اق ٨ ٨ؽز ؼ١ب ، دىشب قؼ

و٠ س٠ ؽ ، فا خ٧ؽ٥ ـكش٦

ؼؽا٠ ٥ ب ب٠ ـا ثبـا قؼ

تا الراظ: هرزجن

Translated by Alkhas

هحوس رفعی: ضاعز

Poet: Mohammad Rafiei

.....ثف ؼـب ا٧ىشبؼ ثؼ

ز ث٠ وف ٨د٠ ٥ دب٨٧ك ؼاز دز ث٠ زسفاؽ سبثىشب

ؼجؽ٥ ـا ٦ بىز ثب ؼوز آـؼ١ب٥ و٦ اي

ثب٥ ث٦ ق٢بـؼـ د٨فا١ ٠ آؼ اـؿا٦

–ب٢ب -فؼ ثبؼ٥ ق٧ؽ س كب ؽ

ث٦ س آقاـ٥ ؼوش٦ -اب -ا ٠ سبـ ٦٧ ـا اق ـغىبـ ثبق ٨فؼ،

.س ث٠ سكب وذفؼ

٨ىا ؼـ فؼ ثبؼ غ٠٨ ا٥ قؼ دفاق ـا ث٠ د٨جبق ـكز

آب زبى اؽ١بى ثبـا ث٠ دفو٠ ب ؿفة آؽ

تا الراظ: هرزجن Translated by Alkhas

عزضا

:یاغو

زاپ

Po

et: P

irayeh

Yag

hm

aii

She was standing in the doorway

She had an eye on the dizziness of autumn

And her back to the chandelier of summer

She resembled a temple

With the glory of her results of stone

An unprotected lady

In a misty purple dress

A whirlwind commenced – suddenly –

And turned into a storm

She – although – without any bothersome hands

Even removing a strand of hair off her face

She put her body in the hands of the storm

Her tresses put up a tent in the whirlwind

She welcomed flight

Subsequently the sorrowful skylark of the rain

Came to the mourning place of dusk

Monsters of my dreams!

Push aside my bed‟s netting

I am more tired than virginal landscapes

More slippery than winding roads

And I am afraid of the slimy sound of my thighs

When they are rubbed together

When we are rubbed together

I am afraid of the sparks of floodlights

I pull slick fish over my body

And while distancing myself from dreams I am afraid of

your fins

Dreams of closed doors

And falling from black mulberry trees

Right in the middle of aunt Leyla‟s garden

I am afraid of group pictures

And loud group laughter

And of floodlight sparks

Push aside my bed‟s netting

Embrace me and let me cross over your mouth‟s flames

I will get used to far away destinations.

!الؼ١ب٥ غاة ١ب٥ ـثؽ سـ٥ ا ـا ده ثك

١ب٥ ثف غىش٠ سف اق وفق٨ سف ١ب٥ دف د٨ر ـكؽ اق خبؼ

١ب٧ ٦ سفو اق ؽا٥ كج ـاهش٦ ث٠ ١ وب٨٧ؽ ٦ ؽهش٦ ث٠ ١ وب٨٧ؽ ٦ ٧

١ب ٦ سفو اق خفه٠ ٥ ـاكب٦١ ١ب٥ ٨ك ـا ـ٥ غؼ ٦

اق غاة ؼـ ؽ اق ثب٠ ١ب٧ز ٦ سفوغاة ؼـ١ب٥ ثىش٠

اكشبؼ اق ؼـغز بسرؼـوز و ض٨ب ػ٠ ٨ال

اق ػه ١ب٥ ؼوش٠ خؼ٦ ١ب٥ ؼوش٠ خؼ٦ اق ثؽ غؽ٧ؽ

١ب ٦ سفو اق خفه٠ ٥ ـاكـثؽ سـ٥ ا ـا ده ثك

ثـ اق آس ؼ١بز ػجـ ثؽ.ث٠ ى٨ف١ب٥ ؼـ ػبؼر ٦

Translated by Alkhas

رجا چوکار: ضاعزتا الراظ: هرزجن

Poet: Roja Chamankar

Words are coming from your not coming

They get scattered all around my desolation

Like pain they adhere to my life

You remain in my heart like a word

You do not separate from August

Nor from my dying

From your maroon shirt that clothed my veins

Words are coming from your not coming

From you‟ve gotten used to losing me

To I kiss you from a distance

And dying from at your side was not easy

To come back to you I would become a pillar of salt

To myself an Egyptian odalisque

That besides your loving

Your not loving it gets scattered all around my

desolation

It adheres to my life

Separate me from words

From your shirt

From the leftovers of a pillar in Borazjan*

بر اق ٨بؽز ٦ آ٧ؽ

دب٨ؽ ٦ ؽ ـ٥ ٧فا٦ اث ؼـؼ ث٠ قؽ٦ ا ٦ زىجؽ

ث ضفف س٥ ؼ بؽ ا٥خؽا ٦ ٥ اق فؼاؼ

فؼ٠ س دي ـ٢ب٧ ثؼ اق د٨فا١ قـ٦ ار

بر اق ٨بؽز ٦ آ٧ؽاق ػبؼر فؼ٥ ث٠ اق ؼوز ؼاؼ

ث٠ اق ـا ؼـ ٦ ثوز فؼ اق بـ س آوب جؼ

ث٠ س ثففؼ اق ي وش٦ ٦ ٨ك٥ ف٥ ث٠ غؼ

٠ بـ ؼوز ؼاشزدب٨ؽ ٦ ؼ ـ٥ ٧فا٦ ا ؽاشز

٦ زىجؽ ث٠ قؽ٦ ا

خؽا٧ اق براق د٨فا١ز

اق س٠ بؽ ١ب٥ وش٦ ؼـ ثفاقخب*= a small city off the Persian Gulf near salt flats.

عزضا

:ار

کو

چا جر

Poet: R

oja

Cham

ankar

تا الراظ: هرزجن Translated by Alkhas

2)...كبن ١ب ـا ـ

ؼـ وبض اوج٦ فؼ اوزالؽ ١ب ك٨٢ؽؽ

ض٨ا د٨ج٦ ٨ىزثب٧ؽ ث٠ ز ١ب٧ سدبق ؽ

دوز ه٢ ا٥ اي ـا...ث٠ آكشبة ب ؼ١ؽ

1)ثب ؿفة ٠ آؽ٥

غ٨ف اخؽا٧ اق غؼ

ثسىجب بـ ػه ق٦٠ ـقب٠ ١ب د٨ؽا٦٧ اي ـا با٨ؽ ؽؽ

سبـ٧ع سؽي١كاـ ١كاـ وب ؼ٧ف اوز

1)

So you came with the dusk

I sit and stare

Separate me from myself

Paste me next to the picture of a woman

Who the newspapers have given up hope of her

being found

And her birth date

Is a thousand thousand years from now

2)

Light the lanterns…

A horse has died on the shore

The crows have understood

It is not a noble animal

They have to violate its eyes

And show its brown hide

To the sun…

عزضا

:یاه

ل

ازس

ف

Po

et: Farz

an

eh

Gh

avam

i

تا الراظ: هرزجن

Translated by Alkhas

In this cold storage, inside of my heart

All the beloved dead lay at rest

The corpses, every one that I have killed

at midnight our bodies together pressed

*

the dead from wine, kisses and poetry

too bad, how cold they are now and fixed

too bad, lethargic hugs and cigarettes

when tears and laughter are together mixed

*

I have killed a complete tribe of people

Behind the abandoned empty lots

Stroll not around the ground of this stranger

About your murder I have other thoughts

س٥ ا٧ وفؼغب٠، ؼـ ؼ فؼ ١ب٦٧ ػك٧ك ؼـ غاثؽ

فؼ ١ب٦٧ ٠ ش٠ ا ٠١ ـا٠٨ ج٢ب ؼـ اج ١ف د٨ؽ

*فؼ ١ب٥ فاة ثو٠ ؼفض٨ق، ضبال ز٠ وبز وفؼؽ

ض٨ق آؿي ـغر و٨بـهز سل٨ن ف٠٧ ثب جػؽ

*ش٠ ا ٧ي هج٠٨ آؼ ـادز ٧فا٠ ١ب٥ شف

دفو٠ ؼـ غبى ا٧ ؿف٧ج٠ ك ث٠ هش س ٨ك

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

Po

et: Sam

an

eh

Sarc

ham

i

عزضا

:ی

چوسز

اسو

٦ غا١ ثفا٥ س ثػاث٧، ثػؽ

ثفا٥ س ٠ زبز ١س وذ٨ؽؼاـ٥ ـ٨ اوزثفا٥ س ٠ ؼوشبز ١س هت

اق هلى٠ ١ب٥ وػز ٦ سذؽؼوز ؼاـ ثفا٧ز زب ثب ٠

ؼغشفى ـوشب٦٧ ثؼى٨ص ثؼ

١سب اوشاـ١سب ـؼ، ـا١سب ، ٨ق١سب ػن، ق٧جب

.ـق٥ ؽا٧ز غا١ فؼ.ـق٥ ٠ ٠١ اثف١ب اق ضفز ثبقا٧ىشؽ

.ـق٥ ٠ ٢شبة ؼـ ض زب ٦ ـهؽ.ـق٥ ٠ سب ضفف ١ب ـا ؼـ ؽا٧ ؿفم وبق

ـق٥ ٠ ٠١ ز٨ك ـا ؼـ ثف ؼاش٠ ثب ثب زب ٠١ ز٨ك ـا ثفا٧ز ثػا

آـ٥،ا٦٧ ث٠ ز ٦ ـوؽ،

ثؽ ،.ا٧ ٠ ث٠ و٧ز ٦ آ٧

I want to sing for you

To laugh and talk

For you whose eyes are as colorful as an aspen tree

For you whose hands like a heart

Keep a strong rhythm from inside cages

For you I want to be just like

The village girl was

Like Jesus was

Solid as a mountain

Fluent as a river

Fragile as a flower

Beautiful as love

One day I will call for you

One day when all the clouds cease to move

One day when the moonshine dances in our small pool

One day when I drown all the words in my voice

One day when I have everything memorized and

Sing everything for you with my eyes

Yes,

A melody reaches your ears;

Get up,

It is I who is coming towards you

تا الراظ: هرزجنTranslated by Alkhas

ضزساز علوحوسی: ضاعزPoet: shahrzad alimohammadi

1)

I have passed

My childhood

But

Still

A cradle

Within me

Rocks

2)

You

Were my sweetened coffee

Your end

An interpretation of leaving

That now

With a coffee more bitter than your absence

At a table for one

Waiting for death

I sit

1)اق ؼ٦ ١ب٧

ؿشاب

١ق ا٥ ٢اـ

ؼـ سبة ٦ غـؼ

2)س

٥ ٨ف٧ ثؼ٥ ه٢ دب٧بز

سؼج٨ف٥ اق ـكش ثؼ٠ ضبال

ا٥ سع سف اق جؼز ثب ه٢دز ٨ك٥ ٧ي لف

ؼـ اشظبـ ف.ىش٠ ا

Po

et: Mo

ham

ad

Maso

ud

Kara

mi

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

عزضا

:یزه

کز

سع ه

وسحه

They should give the medal of honor

To my mother

Who every night sewed on

His epaulettes tightly

And she would polish his boots

And she prayed for his safe return

And

He returned

And mother

Who did not wear a military uniform

Has no stars on her shoulders

It‟s painful

But her Sacred Defense never ends

ؽا اكشػبـ ـاثب٧ؽ ث٠ بؼـ ثؽ١ؽ

٠ وفؼ٦ ١ب٥ دؽـ ـا١ف ت ط ٦ فؼ

١ب٧ ـا اه ٦ قؼ دس٨ ؼػب ٦ فؼ ٠ وب ثففؼؼ

ثفز

بؼـ٠ جبن ـق ٦ دؽ

ـ٥ ؼي ١ب٧ وشبـ ٨ىزؼـؼ اوز

.اب ؼكبع وؽو سب ٦ ؼ

Po

et: Kh

ate

re H

em

ma

ti

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

عزضا

:یور

ز

طذا

I decided to pretend I was on another road

And as it turned out

It‟s not even that far from here,

You‟re stooped over

You‟re young

And of course you‟re laughing

Over there things are in a fog

So I can‟t see

A few birds are carrying your prayer

And when you laugh

Three angels who are awake

Start to cry

I of course

Pretend not to notice

As if I kind of have no idea what‟s going on

And then I suddenly just hang up

Crying I did up my shoelaces and the door

And I don‟t know how many times

I measured the length and width of this room in hand

spans

And I said that over on the other side

There was some heavy anxiety.

From now on

I‟ve chosen a different way to kill myself.

غؼ ـا ث٠ آ ـا قؼ اسلبهب آفف ١ب

.اال ؼـ ٨ىزغ٨ؽ ؽ٥

خا٦ اجش٠ ٦ غؽ٥

آفف ١ب كب٥ ٠ آؼ٥ ؼاـؼ٠ ٦ ث٨

زؽ دفؽ ؼاـؽ ؼػب٥ س ـا ٦ ثفؽ هش٦ س ٦ غؽ٥و٠ سب كفش٠ ٥ ث٨ؽاـ

ف٠٧ ٦ ؽ اجش٠

غؼ ـا ث٠ ز٠ قؼ ا ثال اال ضاو ٨ىز

٠ ٧ي ؼكؼ٠ سل ـا هغ فؼثؽ ل ـا ثب ف٠٧ ثىش ؼـ ـا

٦ ؼا زؽ ثبـ ػف اسبم ـا خت فؼ

لش آفف ١ب.ز٠ ؼ٢ف ا٥ ؼاـؼ

اق ا٧ ث٠ ثؼؽ.ثفا٥ غؼ٦ س٨ ؼ٧ف٥ ؼاـ

Poet: Mohsen Bolhasani

Translated by Alkhas

تا الراظ: هرزجن

هحسي تالحسی: ضاعز

In a frame made of glass; eyes that I‟ve known

A woman in a nightgown sitting alone

On the other side of the bars a long shadow

Brings two teas till a man with his hands grown

Thin… yet instead of the two cups of tea

He touches a hand with a woman‟s bone

It‟s the same, man or woman, you or I

Someone is left on this side all alone

The doors opens, and perhaps like a womanIn the light of the moon a shadow is shown…

#Is it her hand's warmth or the cup of tea,

silent and calm the door closes on its own

ؼـ هبة ٠٨ ا٥ ؛ زب٦ آبق ثب جبن غاة س٢ب ىش٠ ٧ب

آ و٥ فؼ ١ب ٧ي وب٠٧ ٥ ثؽ٦ آـؼ ؼ زب٥ سب آ٠ فؼ ثب

اب ث٠ خب٥ زب٥... ؼوشب الؿفيا ه ٦ ؽ ؼوش٦ قب٠ ـا

, فؼ ٧ب س, كفه٦ ٦ ؽ قخب بؽ ٧ي لف ا٧ و٥ فؼ ١ب

ب٧ؽ ج٠٨ ق, ؼـ ثبق ٦ ؼ...ؼـ ق٧ف ـ ب ٧ي وب٠٧ ـكش٠ سب

#فب٥ ؼوز اوز ٧ب اوشب زب٥

ؼـ ثىش٠ ٦ ؼ آـا ث٦ ؽا

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

ػفب

:اؼ

مى

ؼف

وـ

Po

et: R

aso

ul M

oare

kn

eja

d

1)

Winter,

With hand tremors,

On a Windsor chair

And Spring,

Are his only romantic memories

That are left within the layers of his Alzheimer‟s

2)

The bones, are too decayed

To continue.

Only we are left

And the Gordian knot on the boot‟s laces,

inside the showcase at the War Museum,

With a smile and a few camera flashes

1)قىشب،

ثب ؼوشب٦ ـػ٠،ثف ؽ٦ ٢ىشب٦

ث٢بـ،س٢ب غبف ٥ ػبوب٠ ٥ اوز

.٠ الث٠ ال٥ آكا٧في خب بؽ اوز

2)اوشػا ١ب، دو٨ؽ سف اق آؽ

.٠ اؼا٠ ؼ١ؽس٢ب ب ٦ ب٨

ف ٥ ـ ثؽ دس٨،ؼـ ٧شف٧ ق ٥ خ،

ثب جػؽ زؽ ك ؼـث٨

تاهي جازی: ضاعز

Poet: Benyamin Javadi

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

Crimson blue

Warm astringent

Wet drops of love rain with me

And the house is the sun‟s bed for you

To peek in stay

That the smell of sleep and desire

Will circle around the garden with you

Around the neck of my body

Crimson blue astringent

Stay come take

Me with you

I am the favorite

Me from yourself

وفظ آث٦ ه ف

سف ؼا٠ ١ب٥ ػن ثب ثجبـؼ غب٠ ثىشف آكشبة ثبؽ ثفا٥ س

وفى ثؽ ثبؽ٠ ث٥ غاة ١ن

ثب س ثذ٨سؽ ؼـ ثبؽؼـ فؼ س وفظ آث٦ ه

ثب ث٨ب ثجففا ثب غؼؼـؼا٠ ا

فا اق غؼ

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

Po

et: Min

oo

Kh

aje

h A

ldin

عزضا

:يس

الجا

ذ

ه

A concrete feeling upon my soul came crashing down

On these rainy nights I wander wet around this town

In a closed circle confused about you I walk around

You are at the center but to you this is unknown

I guess I‟ve lost hope as night crouches behind my beliefs

I fear the threat tomorrow into despair I‟ll be thrown

Confess now that you too are the hands of the devil

Better I should say you are the reason our sins have grown

The fate of my poems fortune cup with gloom overflows

Has not the bitter reading to you already been shown

On the day that you close your eyes to my sensations

I‟ll steal a kiss from death every time the sun goes down

آاـ ؽ ثف ـش ٧ي ضه و٨ب٦آاـ غ٨ى ؼـ ا٧ ج٢ب٥ ثبـا٦

ؼـ ٧ي ؽاـ ثىش٠ ٦١ ض س ٦ زفغ!!فك س٦٧ اب غؼر ١اـ ض٨فا٦

ت دز دي ثبـ ٧ب ٨ فؼ٦ سفو اق س٢ؽ٧ؽ كفؼا٥ دف٧ب٦

٠ س ١ ؼوز ٨ب٦..اهفاـ ضبال!ث٢شف ث٧ و٠ ٥ ثو ب١ب٦

كدب كب ؼف اق اث٢ب جف٧كاوزآ٧ب س ١ سؼج٨ف سػ ـا ٦ ؼا٦؟

ـق٥ ٠ زز ـا ثجؽ٥ ـ٥ اضىبو٧ي ثو٠ د٢ب٦! اق ف ٦ ٨ف ج٦

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

Po

et: Sim

an

az M

eh

razar

ػفب

:ؾـ

فآ٢

ق بب

٨و

Your words behind my earrings

You just need to reach your hand out

To pick sour cherries

And tell me a story

You can make up lies

And cut my hair short

And afterwards laugh into my eyes

And become nicer

Like the dreams

You pin to my nights

I want you to know

I don‟t miss you

And the days don‟t always go your way

At times it‟s my turn

And the ears

That laugh at your promises

ضفف ١ب٧ز دز اـ ١ب٧ بك٦ وز ؼوز ؼـاق ٦

آجب ثس٦٨ ثفا٧ ه٠ ث٦٧

٦ سا٦ ؼـؽ ثجبك٦ ١ب٧ ـا سب ٦

ثؼؽ ث٠ ز ١ب٧ ثػؽ٥ ٢فثبسف ٥ث ـ٧ب١ب٦٧

٠ ث٠ ت ١ب٧ ودبم ٦ ٦٦ غا١ ثؽا٦

ؼ س ٦ ؼ ـقبـ ٠٨١ ث٠ ٨ س ٦ فؼؼ

ب٦١ ثز ٦ ـوؽ ي ١ب٦٧ ٠

ث٠ ػؽ ١ب٧ز ٦ غؽؽ

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

لال ری ائی: ضاعز

Poet: Leila Nouri Naini

Always

When winter goes away

Some things are left behind

For example

An umbrella at the train station

A face behind a steamed window

And footsteps in the snow

Always when winter goes away

Something is left behind

Like the rustling of a leaf on a tree branch

Or things that never

Ever

Will blossom

٠٨١قىشب ٠ ٦ ـؼ

٧ي ز٨ك١ب٦٧ خب ٦ بؽث

زشف٥ ؼـ ا٧ىشب هبـب٦١ دز ثػبـ ٠٨

ـؼ دب٦٧ ـ٥ ثفف٠٨١ قىشب ٠ ٦ ـؼ

ز٨ك٥ خب ٦ بؽ غ ثف٦ ـ٥ بغ٠ ٥ ؼـغز ث غ

٧ب ز٨ك١ب٦٧ ٠ ٨١ر هز٨١ر هز

.ك٠ ٦ ؼ١ؽ

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

ثب اػب: شفخ

آقاؼ ١بظ٦ قاؼ: بػفPoet: azadeh Hazemizadeh

By the river alone, a long deep puff

A planned date, a long wait, more smoke, a cough

..

..

..

Khaju Bridge* can be a sorrowful place

When someone softly says, "Bye, that‟s enough!”

*-an ancient bridge in Isfahan

د٦ ال٦ س٢ب٦٧ ـؼهفاـ اشظبـ وفك٠ ؼؼ...... ا٨كوز هش٦ د غاخ ؿى٦ آـا ٦ ٧ؽ ٠ ثؽـؼ

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

هحوس زاللثاضی اغفای: ضاعز

Poet: Mohammad Dalalbashi Esfahani

You fell

Without any law

Without any gravity

And you were kicked around by a herd

of buffalo

Eve!

The eve of sexuality

He taunted you with his manliness

Like the “Cypress of Kashmar”

You were plundered

And Zoroaster cried again

Rise up Ahriman!

The time is now yours

Disturb the water

Disturb the fire

And the plants

And all the creations of Ahuramazda…

وو فؼ٥ث٦ ٨١ر هب٦

ث٦ ٨١ر خبؾث٠ ا٥ؽب ٧ي ٠ ب ٨ ؽ٥

!ضا ػف خى٨ز

فؼا٦ اي ـا ث٠ ـغز ٨ؽ"وف بف "ث

ث٠ سبـاج ـكش٦قـسز ؼثبـ ف٧ىز

!ثفغ٨ك ا١فقب قب٠ ٥ سوز

آة ـا ث٨بقاـآس ـا ث٨بقاـ

٨ب ـا...٠١ ٥ آكف٧ اـكؼ ـا

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

فاطو هحسي ساز: ضاعز

Poet: Fatemeh Mohsenzadeh

The flower on the stem that sensed my

loneliness

Dried up in the space between our hands

Shhhh!

Drink your coffee

And don‟t disrupt the calm of this poem

After the next line

I will return home

And my wishes

I will leave in the line for the bus

Tomorrow

Is International Prosperity Day!!!

Call me

And in a way I don‟t recognize your voice

Say goodbye

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

هسا سزی: ضاعز

Poet: Mahsa Zahiri

بغ٠ ٦ ٠ ث٠ س٢ب٦٧ ا ث ثفؼ ثؼؼـ كب٠ ٥ ث٨ ؼوز ١ب٧ب غ٨ؽ

!٨١ه ار ـا ثػـ ه٢

آـا ا٧ ؼف ـا ث٠ ١ كاق وف ثؼؽ

ث٠ غب٠ ثف٦ فؼ آـق١ب٧ ـا

ؼـ ق اسثن ١ب ٦ ؿاـكفؼا

!!!ـق خ٢ب٦ غجػش٦ وزق ثك

خـ٥ ٠ ؽا٧ز ـا ثبو.غؽاضبكظ٦

Throughout your writing you have hidden me

My hair flows in the stories

My voice strays around the characters

My gaze wanders through the settings

And my eyes settled before their time on the face of

The hero

My portion of love was being slaughtered between the lines

I am complaining about the bookstores

I take back my intertextuality

So much so that you will have to take me out your text

And in the afternoon far from your obsession with words

drink tea by my side

ث٨بث٨ ش ١ب٧ز د٢ب فؼ٥

١ب٧ اكب ؽ ؼـ ه٠ ١بػ٨ش٢ب وففؼا ٨ب ؽا٧

ؼـ ب ١ب ب١ ش٠

ه٢فبز ىز ز٢ب٧ ٠ ؼـسف اق قب ثف ز٢ف ٥

و٢ اق ػن والغ٦ ؽ ٨ب وف١ب ثؼ

ؼاـ اق شبثػب٠ ١ب ب٧ز ٦ ث٨بش٨ش ـا ده ٦ ٨ف

آوؽـ ٠ دجـ ٥ فا اق ق٧ف ش ار ث٨ف آـ٥ ػف ث٠ ؼـ اق وان ال ؼـ بـ زب٥ ث٦

Translated by Alkhas

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

Po

et: Mary

am

Firu

zi

عزضا

:ی

سز

فن

هز

Illustrated poems

Your applauded way of seeing

That for a moment

Relaxes

On a woman‟s body

... Naked,

Immersed

On your cream colored sofa

Can you see?

You don‟t even have to be a poet

When images write the poem

ؼف ـ ف سوز ب سطى٨

٠ طظ٠ ا٥آـا ٦ ٨فؼ

ـ٥ د٨ف ق٦ثف٠١،

ؿفم ؽؼـ ببد٠ ٥ ٨ف٥ ـز

٦ ث٦٨؟ضش٦ الق ٨ىز بػف ثب٦

.هش٦ ٠ سب٧ف ؼف ٦ ٧ؽ Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

Po

et: Mah

dis

Mo

ham

mad

i

عزضا

:ی

وسح ه

سس

ه

This rain that is falling

Is my uncried tears

That

Pound into the body of the earth

In order to greet

Those green herbs

And for my eyes

To praise

Those times that have been let go

This left over rain nurtures

By sentence passed

Two hydrogen fallen from the eyes

And one oxygen left behind bars

ا٧ ثبـا ٠ ٦ ثبـؼاي ١ب٥ ف٧ػش٠ ٥ اوز

٠فث٠ ثف د٨ف ق٨ ٦ قؽ

سب وال ؽآ وجك ١ب

ؼـ ؽز ١ب٥ فا

آ قب ١ب٥ ـكش٠ اق ؼوز

ا٧ ثبـا بؽ ١ ٦ ـ٧بؽث٠ ض

ؼ ٨١ؽـل اكشبؼ اق ز. ٧ي اى٨م بؽ ؼـ ثؽ

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

Po

et: Sara

Sia

maki

رعشا

:ی

کام

سی را

سا

ا٧ ثبـا ٠ ٦ ثبـؼاي ١ب٥ ف٧ػش٠ ٥ اوز

٠فث٠ ثف د٨ف ق٨ ٦ قؽ

سب وال ؽآ وجك ١ب

ؼـ ؽز ١ب٥ فا

آ قب ١ب٥ ـكش٠ اق ؼوز

ا٧ ثبـا بؽ ١ ٦ ـ٧بؽث٠ ض

ؼ ٨١ؽـل اكشبؼ اق ز. ٧ي اى٨م بؽ ؼـ ثؽ

Po

et: Sara

Sia

maki

رعشا

:ی

کام

سی را

سا

Lo que esta lloviendo

Son mis lagrimas sin derramar

Que

Golpean en el cuerpo de la tierra

Para dejarles saludar

Esas hierbas verdes que envuelven

Mis ojos

en aquellos tiempos que se han dejado ir

Esta lluvia de mas se nutre

De frases pasados

Dos hidrógenos caídos del ojo

Un oxigeno encadenadoTran

slated

by A

drian

ne

Alkh

as

Up close

In a corner of this month of Ordibehesht*

On the pale face of a poem

The earth is crooked meaning

I have died once again

It doesn‟t make much difference

Wherever we happen to fall

The earth is still round

So crash cymbals together inside my head

And the suffering of your fingers gets stuck on the splashed

blood

And then

When you arrive at that distant dim light

Twist open the veins in my hands

A morsel - take me as a mouthful into a half dark mouth

Heat up the forehead of the moon

And

And abreast with the wind distance yourself

Step

Step

Step

I still see you

Distant

Distant

Distant…

ؼـ كؼ٧ي٠ ٨١ ب اـؼ٧ج٢ز

ـ٥ ـر ـ دف٧ؽ ٧ي ؼفق٨ ٠ ح ؽ اوز ٧ؼ٦

ا ٧ي ثبـ ؼ٧ف فؼكفه٦ ٠ ٦ ؽ١ف دب ٠ ث٨لش

ثبق ١ ق٨ فؼ اوزده وح ثثب ؼـ وف

ـح اشبز ٨ف ؽ ؼـ غ بو٨ؽ اق شي ثؼؽ

ث٠ وو٥ زفاؿ٦ ؼـ ؼـ ٠ ـو٨ؽ٥ ١ب٧ ـا ثب٥ اق ؼوز د٨ر ـ

و٠ ا ؼـ ؼ١ب ٨ سبـ٧ي–و٠ ؼاؽ د٨ب٦ ب ـا

و٠٨ ث٠ و٠٨ ثبؼ ؼـ

بب

١ق ٦ ث٨زؼـؼـ...ؼـ

*-The second month of the Iranian calendar starting April 20th and ending May 20th

بونا الخاص: مترجم

Translated by Alkhasهظاز ضاهد: شاعر

Poet: Mazaher Shahamat

The hand that wipes a fogged up window goes dizzily

into darkness with many farewells

Such days the calendar throws to the wind

I get lost, son, inside the news

In a brown jacket and a pair of jeans and sex without

pity he is free and the news is in his suspended eyes

suspense in his breathing running around in the rain at

five in the morning returning taking a shower putting

cologne all over his body looking better than ever like a

grinning devil who has nothing left to do in town he

takes his backpack full of tricks and heads towards hell

What day did he prefer to sign for

Sunday makes no difference in Hades

Whether you are the language of the people or

Words that arise from your heart

The calendar is full of these days, son

Yet how crimson you were

In the green fog of that day

And the rain washed off all his green cologne

And poured it into your bitter cup of tea

ؼوش٦ ٠ ٠٨ ا٥ ثػبـ فكش٠ ـا دبى ٦ ؽ ٨ح ٦ ـؼ ٨ب و٨ب٦١ ١ب ثؽـؼ ق٧بؼ اق ا٧ ـق١ب ث٠ ثبؼ ٦ ؼ١ؽ سو٧

٦ ؼ دىف ٨ب غجف١بثب بد ه٢ ا٥ اـ خ٨ وه ث٦ ؼـ٧ؾ سؼ٨ اوز غجف ؼـ ز ١ب٥ ؼن سؼ٨ن ؼـ له ١ب٧ وبػز دح جص ؼـ ثبـا

ؼ٧ؽ ثفش٠ ؼي فكش٠ سب س اي ـا ػف قؼ ق٧جبسف اق ٠٨١ ث ٨ب٦ غؽا ٠ ؼ٧ف بـ٥ ؼـ ٢ف ؽاـؼ ٠ دش٦ دف اق

وب٧ اؿا ـا ثفؼاش٠ ث٠ وز خ٢ ـا اكشبؼ

ثفا٥ اب فؼ ؽا ـق ـا سفخ٨ص ؼاؼكفه٦ ٦ ؽ ٧ج٠ ؼـ ؼقظ

قثب غن ثب٦ ٧بال ا٥ ثفآؽ اق هجز

سو٧ اق ا٧ ـق١ب دف اوز دىف

اب ز٠ وفظ ثؼ٥٨ب ٦٢ وجك آ ـق

ثبـا سب ػف وجكي ـا.ؼـ كدب زب٥ سع س ـ٧ػز

Translated by Alkhasحسي هکی ساز: ضاعزتا الراظ: هرزجن

Poet: Hosein Mackizadeh

He jokes around with me!

He uses my earrings as his kite

He constantly wants a ball and a bell

That which is the size and length of my fisted fingers!

I feel like a giant!

I put his kites on my earlobes

I cut off his hands from their phone lines

So he won‟t call the sky

And I throw him to the sidewalk merchants

I sell him to someone handless and…footloose

So he understands not to be childish anymore!

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

!فا ؼوز ٨بؽاقؼاـ ١ب٧ ـا ثبؼثبؼ ٦ ؽ

ؽا سح ٦ غا١ؽ سبح!آ٠ هؽ ز اشب ؼوشب ؼاـؼ

!ضه ٦ ؿ ثبؼثبؼ٢ب٧ ـا ٦

ؼوش٢ب٧ ـا هغ ٦ اق غ اـسجب٦ آ٢بسب ث٠ آوب ق كؽ

٨بؽاق س٥ ثىب د٨بؼ ـ ١ دب. . .٨لف ث٠ ٧ي ث٦ ؼوز !سب ؼ٧ف ثل٢ؽ جب٧ؽ ثس٦ ؽ

Po

et: R

om

ina A

bed

i

عزضا

:ی

تسعا

ا ه

ر

I hate cigarettes

And night texting

And women

And this damn craving

Cocktail after cocktail I downed

The streets of my body

Regret and ……

Morning

Only one bed

I pluck around my lips

There are no more than a few shirts

His one year visa

I‟ve checked everything

He‟s a deep sleeper…!

اق و٨بـ شلفاق ان ا ان جب٠

اق قاق ا٧ ٧بـ ؼش٦

غ٨بثب ١ب٥ س ـا٨الن ث٠ ٨الن وف ٨ؽ

......ضىفر جص

سػز غاث٦ س٢بثؽ ٦ اؽاق دز ت ١ب

زؽ د٨ف١ ث٨شف ٨ىز٧كا٥ ٧ي وب٠ اي

٠١ ز٨ك ـا زي فؼ ا...!غاث و٨ اوز

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Po

et: Fere

sh

teh

Raso

uli.

ػفب

:٦

ـو

٠ش

كف

When your fingertip is pushed inside me

I squeeze

The worry beads

i am dizziness

From the roundness of your fingertip

And when your fingertip counts the worry beads

And it doesn‟t end

And it doesn‟t end

And it doesn‟t end…

I sit in anger from the touch

When you cut the wire

Your fingertips scrape against the fret board when you play

arpeggios

And even

Under its long shadow

Last night my fever and I washed my feet in cold water at the altar

The worry beads

Are between your index finger and my pulse

Stop Yahya*

I am completely lacking of ancestry

*-A name; John

ي اشبر ٠ كف ٨فؼ ؼـ ؼا ٠ ١ب٥ سىج٨ص ـا

٦ كبـ وف٨د٠ ا

اق ؽـ ي اشبر سىج٨ص ٨بـؼي ي اشبر هش٦

سب ٨ؼسب ٨ؼ

... سب ٨ؼ ه ـ٥ ثن فؼ ا

و٨ ـا ٠ ٨جف٥اد٨بؽر ١ غه غه ٨ؽ ثب ي اشبر ضش٦

ق٧ف وب٠٧ ٥ ثؽيدب٠٧ فؼ٧ ؼ٧ت سج سب جص طفاة ـا

سىج٨ص

٨ب وجبثز ج اوز

ا٧ىشب ٧ط٦٨ دف اق ث٦ اخؽاؼ٧

Translated by Alkhas

تا الراظ: هرزجن

Po

et: Mah

sa J

avad

i

عزضا

:ی

ازج

ا س

ه

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

Until morning,

It snowed on the trees in my room

At the breakfast table

I fed

The man I had made

Bread that I had spread jam on

I turn ten years old today and you

Didn‟t bring

The candles you had promised

I light my fingers

My fingernails

Do

Drip

Drip

Your gaze blows by,

My birthday is happy.

سب جص،ثف ؼـغز ١ب٥ اسبه ثفف ثبـ٧ؽ

دز ٨ك جطب٠ث٠ آؼ٦ ٠ وبغش٠ ثؼ

ب٦ ٠ س ـ٧ فثب ب٨ؽ ثؼ٥،٦ ؼاؼ

افق ؼ وب٠ ٦ س غ ١ب٦٧ ٠ ه ؼاؼ ثؼ٥

٨بـؼ ا٥

از ١ب٧ ـا ـ ٦ بغ ١ب٧

ز٠ ز٠

٦ ؼ ب س ٦ قؼ،

.سؽ جبـى ٦ ؼ

عزضا

:

لجل

ي س

ه

Po

et: M

ah

di J

alili

Every morning a glass of milk

Overflows with boredom on the stove

And a bite of cheese and bread gets stuck in my throat

Because of your cup of tea that everyday

Gets cold on the table across from me and my gaze

I place a flower in your empty place

And drink

A cup of coffee with God by the kitchen window

The God of tomorrow‟s newspaper!

He sings for me loudly from the bottom of my cup

*My pony tail whinnies God‟s reading

Of the coffee grounds…

Tomorrow you will return

Tomorrow you will return in the rain

١ف جص ٧ي ٨ا ٨فض٠ اي وف ٦ ـؼ ث٠ ـ٥ اخبم

و٠ ب د٨ف ؼـ ٧ ٨ف ٦ ؽاق اوشب زب٥ س ٠ ١ف ـق

وفؼ ٦ ؼ ؼـ وبث ٨ك ب١ ٧ي خب٥ غب٦ س ٦ ؿاـ

ثب غؽا بـ ددف آذكغب٠ ه٢ ٦ غـ!غؽا ـقب٠ جص كفؼا ـا

اق س٠ كدب ثفا٧ ثؽ ٦ غاؽ١ب٥ ؼ اوج٦ د٦٧٨ غؽا ـا*

...٠٢٨ ٦ ؽ كفؼا س ٦ آ٦٧

كفؼا س ؼـ ق٧ف ثبـا ٦ آ٦٧

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

سزي تجری: ضاعز

Poet: Nasrin Behjati

My voice has stuck to the asphalt

And thousands of pedestrians are moving across it

And I

… have acquired various accents

This voice is no longer my voice

And I

With all the sounds of the people

Have become stuck to the asphalt of the street

But always on my voice

Someone is shuffling their feet

Constantly there is an ankle getting twisted in my

stomach

And my breath smells like socks

ؽا٧ ق اولبز زىج٨ؽ ١كاـا ػبثف ث٠ ـ٧ ؼـ ضفز اؽ

٢د٠ ١ب٥ شلبر فكش...

ؽا ؼ٧ف ؽا٥ غؼ ٨ىز

ثب ٠١ ؽا١ب٥ فؼبزىج٨ؽ ؽ ا ث٠ اولبز ز٠

ـ٥ ؽا٧ اب ٠٨١ى٦ دب ث٠ دب ٦ ؽ

٠٨١ ٦٧ اق دب١ب٧ ؼـؼ د٨ر ٦ غـؼ ؼ١ب ث٥ خـاة ٦ ؼ١ؽ

ثب اػب: شفخ Translated by Alkhas

٢ؽ٥ ػك٧كف: بػفPoet: Mehdi Azizof

Early every morning I stand with my back to the mirror!

I try to braid my long hair

My arms get stretched out!

And I braid everything together

The door to its handle, the widow to its curtains…the center window…

I leave it open

You back to me.

I braid a blue streak

I weave dreams

I knot myself to everything

There is no escape, everything is related.

The hours keep coming in pairs!

I have to wait for the right time

I think I‟ve gone crazy

They aren‟t sure yet

Every day I wear long blue stockings

And I walk on the roof of the crazy-house.

I dreamt he would return…

!١ف ـق جص قؼ، دز ث٠ آ٠٧ ٦ ا٧ىشوؼ٦ ٦ ١ب٥ ثؽ ـا ثجبك

!ؼوش٢ب٧ ٦ آ٧ؽ ٠١ ز٨ك ـا ث٠ ١ ٦ ثبك

ثبق ٦ ؿاـ…ال٥ ددف ـا...ؼـ ـا ث٠ ؼوش٨ف اي، ددف ـا ث٠ دفؼ اي.س ـا ث٠ غؼ

!آو ـ٧ى ٦ ثبكغ٨ب ثبك٦ ٦

ث٠ ٠١ ز٨ك ف ٦ غـ.ـا كفاـ٥ ٨ىز، ٠١ ز٨ك ث٠ ١ ـث ؼاـؼ

!٦١ وبػز ١ب خلز ٦ آ٧ؽثب٧ؽ جف سب هؼ ثفوؽ

كف ٦ ؽ ؼ٧ا٠ ا!١ق ئ ٨ىشؽ

١ف ـق خـاة ١ب٥ آث٦ وبم ثؽ ـا ٦ د. ـ٥ ٨فا٦ ؼ٧ا٠ غب٠ ـا ٦ ـ

...غاة ؼ٧ؽ ا ٠ ثف ٦ فؼؼ

تا الراظ: هرزجن

Translated by Alkhas

سزا حسری: ضاعز

Poet:Zahra Heydari

فؼ ١ف جص ٠ ثب زب٥ ٦ ؽ

اق غبف ٥ غي ت د٨ !!ب ٦ ثبكؽ ؼـ فؼ

هز ـكش ولبـي ٨ؽ٧بؼ ثبؽ

! ٧ي ق غجػش

فؼ ١ف ت ثب سػش٠ فؼ ثبق٥ ٦ ؽ

ك٨ سبب ٨ؽ و٨بـ ٨ؽ

!ضفف ٦ قؽ ثفا٥ سلب١

فؼ ٢فثب اوز :هش٦ ٠ آ١ىش٠ ؼـ قك٠ ٨

... فا ثبـ ؛ فا ثبـ ...٦ ؽ سب "ثب ـ ـ "فا ....

فؼ ١ف جص ٠ ثب زب٥ ٦ ؽ

My man

Drinks tea with me every morning

From the happy memories of the night before

He knits scarves around my neck!!

And when it‟s time to leave he asks

Me to remember

That I am a fortunate woman!

My man

Plays backgammon with me every night

He watches films

He smokes cigarettes

And he talks to communicate

And when it‟s time for bed

My man is kind

When I softly whisper in his ear,

“I never tell lies, I never tell lies...”

He “fertilizes” me until …

….

My man drinks tea with me every morning

ثب اػب: شفخ Translated by Alkhas

ؽا د٨فوشب٦: بػفPoet: Neda Pirestani

ى٦ ١ىز غاة فا سؼج٨ف ؽ؟

غاة ق٦ ٠ زخ ٨ىز

ؼوز ثف س ٨٨ؽ...ث ٠٨١ وذ٨ؽ ثؼ ف

ؼوشب جص

..ثف خا٠ ١ب٦٧ اق ؽ ٦ بز

اسبمغبى غـؼ ثؼ

دز ور آ٠٧ ١ب زوؽـ ال ؽـ ثؼ

هش٦ لز..!١ق ؼوش ؼاـؼ

Is there anyone

Who can interpret my dream?

The dream of a woman which is not backwards*

I stroked his body

Like always he was white and warm…

In the morning

He planted wheat sprouts on me

And the room

Had gathered dust

Behind the mirrors

How the words were grimy

When he said

He still loved me..!

*-In it Iran it is said that woman dream the reverse of what will happen

تا الراظ: هرزجن

Translated by Alkhas سا پزسرای: ضاعز

Poet: Neda Pirestani

1)

The redness of your lips

Are like my dark nights

These ridiculous times

That go up to the sky as quick as lightning

And this blood

That drip drips from the milk of houses

And the stairs like crickets

That creak and creak

Full of nightmares from the winter‟s solstice

That pulls across a dark sorrow.

2)

A tree, silent

Moves its shadow around with itself

Its 15 days now that in the houses infested with imps

We have remained still and quiet

And there is nothing else we can do about this

And the imps from the crimson tree come after me

1)وفغ٦ جز

ث ت ١ب٥ سبـ اوز ا٧ قب ا٦

٠ ث ثفم ٦ ـؼ ؼـ آوب ا٧ غ ١ب٦٧ ٠

ز٠ ز٠ اق ٨ف غب٠ ١ب ٦ ـ٧كؼ د٠ ١ب٦٧ ٠ ث خ٨فخ٨فى

خ٨فخ٨ف ٦ ؽ دف اق بثن ١ب٥ ت ٧ؽا

.٠ سبـ ؿ ٦ ؽ2)

ؼـغز، ث٦ ؽاوب٠٧ اي ـا ١فا ثب غؼ سب ٦ ؼ١ؽ

دبكؼ ـق اوز ٠ ؼـ غب٠ ١ب٥ خ قؼآـا ث٦ ضفز بؽ ا٧

زبـ ا٥ خك ا٧ ؽاـ٧ خ ١ب٥ ؼـغز وفظ ث٠ وفاؽ ب ٦ آ٧ؽ

تا الراظ: هرزجن

Translated by Alkhas

سضاس عؼ فزز: ضاعز

Poet: Soshians Avazfard

Translated by Alkhasثب اػب: شفخ

Breath in the air breath in the air in this damned haze

Go for a walk go for a walk on these damned days

Take a walk on gray days of the bomb of atom

get enriched with the panic of uranium

walk through the black jungle of cement and iron

... Breathe! maybe your voice wont shake on the microphone

Sing songs not poems in this age of nothing to show

There is no breeze of freedom without a window

Sing but speak not a word in the canary‟s cage

Sing but say nothing of all the evil and rage

Sing out but do not keep the empty chairs waiting

Sing but don‟t let on about people you‟re hating

Sing for the walls for what different new things will start

People are like iron no one has any heart

له ث له ث س ا٧ ١ا٥ ؼش٦هؽ ثك هؽ ثك س ا٧ ـقا٥ ؼش٦

هؽ ثك س ـقا٥ جؼ ثجب٥ اس ٥ اـا٨ له ث ؿ٦ اق ؼ٢فهؽ ثك س خ و٨ب و٨ب ثش

له ث ب٧ؽ ؽار فق دز ٨فك٦ ثػ ٦ ؿك ػ س هف ث٦ غبف

٦ ى٨ آقاؼ٥ دبوز س ك ث٦ ددفثػ ٦ ضفك٦ ك اق هله هبـ٧ب

ثػ ٦ ز٨ك٥ اق ٠١ ثؽ ث٨بـ٧بثػ شظف ؿاـ ؽ٨ب٥ غب٦ ـ

ثػ ٦ ث٠ ـر ٨بـ آؼب٥ غ٨ب٦ ـثفا٥ ؼ٧اـا ثػ ٠ ز٠ كفه٦ ٦ ٧بـآؼب٥ ػ٨ آ١ ى٦ ؼ٠٧ ؼ ؽاـ

Po

et: Mo

ham

mad

Ho

sein

Saffa

rian

ػفب

:

ـ٧بلب

ى٨ض

ؽ ط

Translated by Alkhasثب اػب: شفخ

I was leaning on the forgetfulness of a door

That was being lost in the memory of the streets

The moon crossed over the verses of a ballad

And night distanced itself from the keys

There was light on your shoulders

My childhood was seen further away than shedding tears

And with the loneliness of a door stayed lost in the forgetfulness of

the street

A kiss echoed throughout the city

And your mouth was born

Amidst the verses of a ballad

ث٠ كفا٦ ؼـ٥ س٠٨ ؼاؼ ثؼ٠ اق ٧بؼ ز٠ ١ب ٦ ـكز

ب اق سفا٠ ا٥ ػجـ فؼ ت اق ٨ؽ١ب كب٠ فكز

ب٠ ١ب٧ز ـ ثؼؼ٦ اق ف٠٧ ١ب ؼـ سف ؼ٧ؽ ٦ ؽ

ثب س٢ب٦٧ ؼـ٥ ؼـ كفا٦ ز٠ ٦ بؽ

ثو٠ ا٥ ؼـ ٢ف د٨س٨ؽ الث٠ ال٥ سفا٠ ا٥

ؼ١ب س ث٠ ؼ٨ب آؽ

ـقث٠ و١ب٦: بػفPoet: Rouzbeh Sohani

ج٠٨ فؼ٥ ؽ ا ٠ ثفا٥ د٨فا١ز آاق ٦ غاؽهش٠٨ ٠١ ؼف١ب٧ ث٠ ١ب٥ س غش ٦ ؽ

٠١ خبؼ ١ب ث٠ ٨بؽزث٨ب ٦ ؼـ ا٧ ؼف ١ب هؽ ثك

ب٧ؽ ١ب٥ س خبؼ ا٥ ثىبقؼثفا٥ قىشب ثفك٦ ٠ ٦ ثبـؼ

٧ب ددف ا٥ ثفا٥ فؼ٥

دفؽ ا٥ د٨فا٦١

ب ا٧ى٦: بػف

Me parezco a un hombre que a tus blusas

canta canciones

Y cuando terminan mis versos a tus

cabellos

Y todo los caminos de tu no venir

Ven y paséate un poco por mis versos

Puede que tus cabellos construyen

caminos

Para el invierno y la nieve que cae

O una ventana para

Un hombre

Un pájaro y

Una blusa

Translated by

adrianne alkhas

Po

et:K

aveh

Oveis

i

I‟ve turned into a man who sings songs

To your blouse

When all my poems conclude

With your hair

And all roads to your not arriving

Come and walk among these poems a bit

Maybe your hair could build a road

For the winter and the snow that falls

Or a window for

A man

A bird and

A blouse

ج٠٨ فؼ٥ ؽ ا ٠ ثفا٥ د٨فا١ز آاق ٦ غاؽهش٠٨ ٠١ ؼف١ب٧ ث٠ ١ب٥ س غش ٦ ؽ

٠١ خبؼ ١ب ث٠ ٨بؽزث٨ب ٦ ؼـ ا٧ ؼف ١ب هؽ ثك

ب٧ؽ ١ب٥ س خبؼ ا٥ ثىبقؼثفا٥ قىشب ثفك٦ ٠ ٦ ثبـؼ

٧ب ددف ا٥ ثفا٥ فؼ٥

دفؽ ا٥ د٨فا٦١

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

ب ا٧ى٦: بػفPoet:Kaveh Oveisi

My bone

Is hanging in a cave

And my dog gets drunk from its smell

My eyes

I‟ve donated to an orphanage

They use them to polish the floor

I‟ve brought a dagger along with me in my coffin

For perhaps a drop of blood

With which I could

Bring back to life

This tree with its dried up roots!

A pigeon dies without a nest

Just like that kid

Who dies shadowless!

I go to the slaughterhouse

And slay myself

With proper religious ceremony

The crow‟s beaks are stuck together!

And laughing scarecrows

Harvest the wheat.

I am the most disastrous beginning

That never ends

In such a way

That I ended thousands of years ago

It is the lion that suffers a stroke

That the jackals

Plunge swords into its heart

اوشػا اثف ؿبـ٥ آ٧ك اوز و اق ث٥ اي ىز ٦ ؼ

زب ـاث٠ ٧ش٨ غب٠ ا٥ ا١ؽا فؼ الـ اوشلبؼ اي ٦ ؽ

ؼـ سبثر غدف ثف غ٧ آـؼ اؼـ٧ؾ اق ٧ي هف غ٠ ثشا ثب آؼـغش٦ ٠ ا ـ٠٧ اي غي ؽ اوز ـا!ز٨ك غـ فؼ

جسف٥ ث٦ ال٠ ٦ ٨فؼ١س آ دىفى!٠ ث٦ وب٠٧ ٦ ٨فؼ

ث٠ شبـ ب ٦ ـ غ٧ ـاث٠ ف٧ن ف٧ؼز ؾثص ٦ !وبـ الؽ ١ب ث٠ ١ زىذؽ اوزشفوي ١ب٥ غؽا.ؽ ؼـ ٦ ؽ

طن سف٧ آؿبق٠ ٨١ر ب سب ٦ اق آ وب١كاـا وب د٨ سب ؽ ا٨ف وش٠ فؼ اوزـب ١ب٨ف ث٠ هت اي ٦ ؽ

Tran

slat

ed

by

Alk

has

تا الراظ: هرزجن

آري کزوی: ضاعز

Poet: Arvin Karimi

اق ١د وبـ١ب ث٠ اسبه ٦ ١فاو

اق ؽ٦ غب٦

اق وب٠٧ ا ـ٥ ؼ٧اـ

ؼـ سبـ٦٧ ؽا٦٧ ـا ث٠ آؿ ٦

ؼـ ـوشب سػز غؼ ؼك ٦

The thought of starlings invading my room makes me panic

As does an empty chair

As does my shadow on the wall

In the darkness I pull a sound into my embrace

And am buried in the graveyard of my own bed

هس هحوزی: ضاعزTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Moones Mahmoodi تا الراظ: هرزجن

رضا هحوزی: ضاعز

Poet: Reza Mahmoodi

I set my gaze uponA window frameThat had no smell of jasmineNor color of a poppyNor crisp freshness of greenDried up branches of a poplar treeDuring the hubbub of a toxic gameAnd death’s whisperIn the ears of autumn leavesIn the dust of the smoky skyAnd how near is this dustAnd how far away the air remains…

آ٧ػش ب١ ـا ثف هبة ددف ا٥

٠ ٠ اق ٧بن ث٦٧ ؼاز ٠ اق وب٧ن ـ٦ ٠ اق وجك فاس٦

غ٨ؽ ؼـ بغ٠ ١ب٥ س٠ ٥ وذ٨ؽاـاؼـ ٠٢١ ا٥ اق ثبؼ٥ ى

دا٥ ف ؼـ ي ثف ١ب٥ دب٨٧ك٥

ؼـ ؿجبـ ؼؼ٥ آوب ز٠ كؼ٧ي ا٧ ؿجبـ

... ز٠ ؼـ بؽ اوز ١ا

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

Amazing

I wanted for you

And I to be

Under this tree

That gives shade

And pick kisses

Once you leave

I leave

And the tree pulls off blossoms!

لز

٦ غاوش س ثب٦ ثب

ق٧ف ا٧ ؼـغز ٠ وب٠٧ ٦ ؼ١ؽ

ثو٠ ثس٨٨

٨١ ٠ ٦ ـ٥ ٦ ـ

! ك٠ ٦ ؽ ؼـغز

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Kourosh Shivaـي ٨ا: بػف

1)

Don‟t be late!

I„ve set the table for two tonight

For myself

And my dream of you

2)

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Words that just don‟t quite make sense

Come as close as you can

3)

___ is still a virgin

A look that the moon,

Saw in your eyes

2)ؼـ٥ ؼوش٦ ،

اؼا٥ ال ١ب٦٧ وز ٠ آـؼ اؽ

غ٦٨ كؼ٧ي ث٨ب

3)١ق ثبف اوز

ب٦١ ٠ ب ـا ،

ؼـ ز٢ب٥ س ؼ٧ؽ اوز

1)!ؼ٧ف

ات ٨ك ـا ؼلف ز٨ؽ اثفا٥ غؼ

غاة س

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Afshin Salehiاك٨ بط٦: بػف

Each time when onto my shoulders

You shrug off your responsibility

There is a volcano inside you

With thousand year old snow

You overflow from within me

I advance wave after wave

Even

On the way, all the white poplar trees

Stand waiting to ask for my hand

I gallop blindly

Until that only open arms – left

I must

Become Jesus‟ bride

And perhaps you

Mary‟s man…

١ف ثبـ اق وفب٠ غب٦ ٦٨

ؼـ س آسلب٨ىزثب ثفك٢ب٥ ١كاـا وب٠

وف ٦ ـ اق س ج ج د٨ ٦ ـ

ضشبؼـ ـا، سب وذ٨ؽاـ١ب

ا٧ىشبؼ اؽ ث٠ غاوشبـ٧ــا٠ ٦ سبق

سب س٢ب آؿي ثبق ــ بؽثب٧ؽ

ػفن ى٨ص ب٧ؽ س ١

...فؼ ف٧

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by AlkhasPoet: Bahareh Ziyaei

ث٢بـ ٨ب٦٧: بػف

1)

I like

These games…

You hide

Behind your hair

I cover my eyes and count

On your hair

And after

Chemotherapy finishes

You can play the man and IThe woman with cancer

2)

Before it gets

To the shoes

Till it‟s time to lick

Those shoesTo the side

The shoes

That a dog died

Next to

The shoes…

1)اق ا٧ ثبقى ١ب ...غ ى آ٧ؽ

س هب٧ ىدز ١بر

ز ثؿاـ ـى ١بر

ده اق دب٧ب ٨ى ؼـبى

س ؼـ و فؼ ثبى ؼـ و ...قى وفبى

2)هج اق ا٠٧ ثفوؽ

ث٠ ل ١بسب ث٨ىؽ

آ ل ١بدفر ؽ ثؼؽ

ل ١بث٠ وش٦ ٠

و٦ فؼ ثؼؼـ بـ

...ل ١ب

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

Po

et: Fars

had

Gh

asem

iN

eja

d

ػفب

:اؼ

م ٦

و هب

بؼف

ك

1)

The infirm ground beneath my feet

The ruined sky on my body

I am born in between

This I cannot deny

2)

From the light and flight of the bird the branch bore

Just a trembling and nothing more

3)

The fault is not with me

You just light up within me

Something has stacked up inside me

The splinters of your memory

1)ق٨ وىز ق٧ف دب٧

آوب آاـ ـ٥ س ؼـ بث٨ قاؼ ٦

.ابـ ؽاـؼ

3)سو٨ف اق ٨ىز،

غؼاغؼ ـ ٥٨ ؼـ ،ز٨ك٥ ؼـ اػبه اجبش٠ ؽ،

. سفا٠ ١ب٥ ٧بؼر

2)و٢ بغ٠ اق ىش ثفغبوش دفؽ

.فق٧ؽ ثؼ ؼ٧ف ٨١ر

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

ػفب

:٦

الهغ

ؼ اـا

ف بؿ

و

Po

et:

Sag

har R

ad

akh

lag

hy

How is it

That I wouldn‟t dive?

How can one let go of

A dress full of the sea?

Your embrace:

All those goldfish

Your embrace: a pitcher

That a carcass of a pelican

Got stuck in

زـ٨فخ٠ ٦ ـكش؟

زـ ٦ ؼ ؿز اق د٨فا٦١ دف اق ؼـ٧ب؟

:آؿزآ٠٢ ب٦١ هفك

س٦:آؿز ٥ فؿ٦ ب٨١ػاـ ٠ خبق

ؼـ آ ٨ف فؼ

جنرز

ه :

ظرا

الات

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

علی اسساللی: شاعرPoet: Ali Asadollahi

هش ـو٨ؽ ضب ١ا٧ ػ ؼ

ثب وبـ دز ددف خب٧ ػ ؼ

١ب٥ س ٦١ بـ ؼوز ثؽ١ؽ ز

٦١ سث٠ ث غؽا٧ ػ ؼ

The time for me to change my attitude is now

To change places with the wren behind my window

Your eyes they keep on getting me into trouble

I need to change my god and violate my vow

آـي و٥: بػفPoet: Arash Mousavi

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

The world hid

When his eye fell on the stone

During the fall of the stone

From the small sound of a dove

He hid

The ill horizon fell onto the sea‟s bed

From me

The wet scream of the sun In the sky‟s side

The heated thunder of thought in the fiery delirium

of sleep

Hidden from me the world

In the grave-smile of men

On their return

To their eternal home.

د٢ب ؽ خ٢بؼـ اكشبؼ ب اي اق و

ؼـ اكشبؼ و اي اق ؽا٥ زي كبغش٠

د٢ب ؽ اكن ث٨بـ اكشبؼ ؼـ ثىشف ؼـ٧ب

اق ؼـ س٦٢ ب آوب كف٧بؼ فة غـ٨ؽ

ؽ ؼـ ١ؿ٧ب آس٨ غاة آؾـغ كف ؽاغش٠

,خ٢ب اق د٢ب ز ـغؽ فؼا

ؼـ ـا ثبقز .اثؽ٥ اب ث٠ غب٠

وطف ث٨ب٦: بػفPoet: Sahar Bayani

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

ا٧ ـق١ب ػد٨ت ؽا٧ فكش٠ اوز ثب٧ؽ ثفا٥ غىش٨ زب٥ ؼ

ثب٧ؽ اق ا٧ اسبم ٦ ف سف كف٥ ث٠ ضب غىش٦ لف

ا٧ ؼوز ١ب ث٠ ؼ٥ ٧ي اوشب سعدب٥ ب وبز ال٠ فؼ اؽ

ب٧ؽ ؽا٥ ؿـ ا٧ طظ٠ ١ب٥ د٨ف ت ـا ث٠ غاة ثفؼ ؼ٧ا٠ فؼ اؽ

ؼـ اش٢ب٥ ـا١ف٦٧ ٠ ٦ ـوؽ ؼ٧ف ث٠ ٨١ر ظف ٥ دبى ـ٦

ثب٧ؽ ٠ ٨ك ؽ٨ ـا ثجؽ ثبـ ىش٠ ا٥ ؼ ٦ ق٦

ثبـ ١ق دف اق ٨ ثؼ سب د٠ ١ب٥ غب٦ ت ؼـ ا ؽ

ثبال سف اق ٠٨١ ؼسب ب ه٢ ا٥ب٧ؽ ثفا٥ غىش٨ زب٥ ؼ ؽ

ؼاـ غ٨ب ٦ اق ت ؿش٠ ا ثف فؼ ١ب٥ و٦ ب٦١ ىش٠ ثب ؼاـ بـ ػه غؼ ؼؼ ٦

ز٠ غ٨ب٦ اوز ا٧ غ٨ب؟... اب ١ق ١

ثب٧ؽ اسبم زي غؼ ـا ػ

There is a strange sadness in my voice these days

For my weariness I must brew pot of tea

I need to be a bit warmer than this room

And do something to alleviate this ennui

These hands hold the waist of this bitter tea glass

At the foot of my quiet gaze making a nest

Is it the bubbling sound of this ancient moment

That brings insanity and puts the night to rest

At the end of a hallway that no longer

Arrives at any unstained or lighted view

I must set to rest my writing desk and chair

And believe as you sit no breath escapes you

And believe I still have the desire to be

Until the earthen stairs of the night surround me

And higher than ever now these two brownish moons

For my weariness they just might brew me some tea

I am imagining I have passed the night through

On the stony sides of a broken winged fish

I am turning to smoke besides my own pictures

Yet however…What kind of a wish is this wish?

I have to get out of this small room of mine

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

Po

et: Paria

To

fan

gsaz

ػفب

:بق

و

لب س

ف٧د

Love

When you touch your lips to your cup of coffee

Gets out of its carriage

Takes off its hat

Bows its head

And offers to serve my coffee

You are not supposed to be the example of love

It already knows the way

Just sit there across from me

And touch your lips to the cup!

ػن هش٦ ت ث٠ كدب ه٢ ار ٦ ق٦

اق بى٠ اي د٨بؼ ٦ ؼال اق وف ثفؼاش٠

وف غ ٦ ؽ ث٠ فف ه٢ ؼػس ٦ ؽ

س هفاـ ٨ىز ؽام ػن ثب٦غؼي ـا ـا ثؽ اوزس س٢ب ـ ث٠ ـ٧ ث٨

! ت ث٠ كدبز ثك

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

ػفب

:٦

٨ل

٠ؽ٧

٢

Po

et: M

ah

die

hL

atifi

The street

Is a lengthy poem

When I take steps with your steps!

And night

Instantly becomes uniform,

From dreams that bring you to me

When

I close my eyes with your eyes!

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

غ٨بثبؼف ثؽ٥ وز

١ب٥ س هؽ ٦ ق !هش٦ ثب هؽ ت

٧جبـ ٧ذبـز٠ ٦ ؼ،اق غاة ١ب٦٧ ٠ س ـا ث٠ ٦ ـوبؽ

هش٦ ١ب٥ س ز ٦ ثؽ ! ثب ز

٢ؽ٠٧ ٨ل٦: بػفPoet: Mahdieh Latifi

We grinded our bodies

And

My shins emptied of dance

The bits of our bodies

Became the sparks of a corpse

And

The echo of our eyes gave time amnesty

When the ending of the story

Was a child‟s jigsaw puzzle

The pieces

Taken away

By the wind…

س ٦ وبئ٨ؽ٧

وبم دب٧ اق ـه غب٦ ٦ ؽغفؼ ١ب٥ س ب

خفه٠ ١ب٥ فؼ ا٥ ٦ ؽؽ

٨ زبب ض ثفائز ٦ ؼاؼ ث٠ قبسب ه٠ / هش٦

دبق ؼ٦ ثؼ ٠ س٠ اي ـا

ثبؼ...ثب غؼ ثفؼ ثؼ

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by AlkhasPoet: Shadi Mirzaei

بؼ٥ ٨فقا٦٧: بػف

I splash water on the mirror

That only shows my tiles

Stacked up by my face

Until my neck

And the wind that

Blows the patterns to one side

And the even more disheveled hair

On the tiles

Along with the water that falls

With foam and blood

From my neck to me

It‟s a long way to Hindustan

That at times memories

Fall on his face

Stubble that fades from red to yellow

To words that give berries

A red verging to black

Purple

White…

آة ٦ دب ث٠ آ٠٧ ٠ اق كو ب٦ ١ب ـا ب ٦ ؼ١ؽ ز٨ؽ ؽ بـ ١ ثف ـر

سب فؼ ثبؼ٥ ٠

و ١ب ـا ٦ ثفؼ ث٠ و٦٧ ١ب آلش٠ سف

ثف ب٦ ١ب ١فا آث٦ ٠ ٦ ـ٧كؼ

ثب ق غ اق فؼ سب

ك٦٨ اوز سب ١ؽوشب ٠ ب٦١ ٧بؼ

٦ اكشؽ ثف ـس س٠ ـ٦٧ ٠ اق وفظ ث٠ قـؼ ٨كؽ

ث٠ ضفف ١ب٦٧ ٠ سي ٦ ؼ١ؽ وفظ ب٧ ث٠ و٨ب

ثل....ول٨ؽ

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by AlkhasPoet: Katayoon Rizkharati

شب٧ ـ٧كغفاس٦: بػف

Mixed in

With a thousand dusks

Fleeing with a hundred fears

Come and not yet gone on foot

You open a hand

Once again

Moot

Moot

Moot...

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Nooshin Zarnani٨ قـب٦: بػف

آ٨ػش٠

ثب ١كاـا ؿفة

ف٧ػش٠ ثب ؽ١ب سفن

آؽ فكش٠ ٥ ٧ي ذ

ؼ ا٧ ؼوز

ثبق ١

دذ

دذ

دذ

...

1)

Words with their cloudy fingers

Put their signature

On the lines in my forehead

I pass by the future that

Is yet to come

2)

I dreamt

A swallow in the sky

Was searching for its nest

And it did not know

That no one other than the wind

Where the end of the sky is

3)

Keep tomorrow in your thoughts with simple words

Since the moon blossoms with you

And if there is no poetry

Even the sea in a deep silence

Will evaporate

3)ثب بر وبؼ ث٠ كف كفؼا ثبي

٠ ب ثب س ٦ لؽ اف ؼف جبؽ

ؼـ٧ب ١ ؼـ وس٦ ػ٨نثػبـ ٦ ؼ

1)ال ١ب ثب اشب اثف٥ ب

ز٨ ١ب٥ د٨ب٦ ا ـا اب ٦ ؽ

٦ ؿـ اق آ٧ؽ ا٥ ٠ ٨بؽ اوز

2)غاة ؼ٧ؽ

دفوش٦٧ ؼـ آوبث٠ ؼجب ال٠ اي ٦ ز

٦ ؼاىز ى٦ خك ثبؼ ٦ ؼاؽاش٢ب٥ آوب دبوز

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Farnaz Jafarzadegan

كفبق خؼلفقاؼب: بػف

Tiredness gets stuck on bending fingers

Who pours tea after it is brewed?

This is the address itself

That exact place where I was never supposed to be

It will not be built up or destroyed any more

Listen to the sound of the whistle of the genies and faeries

From which dark and hidden corner is it from?

Do you see

I have been taken into slavery

From that very day when you set me free.

غىش٦ ؼـ سبغـؼ اشب ٨ف فؼ اوزز٠ ى٦ زب٥ ٨ف٧كؼ هش٦ ؼ ٨ؽ؟

آؼـن ٨١ اوز ١بدب٦٧ ٠ هفاـ ثؼ ١فك ٨ب٧٠ وبغش٠ سف ٨ؼ ٠ ٧فا٠ سف،

ي ث٠ ؽا٥ ور اقبث٢شفاق ؽا ح سبـ٧ي بؼ اوز؟

٦ ث٦٨ ث٠ ثفؼ٦ فكش٠ اؽ فا

.اق١ب ـق٥ ٠ آقاؼ فؼ ا٥

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Morteza Rajabiفس٦ ـخج٦: بػف

I know

They deny

Your perfume in the room

And they draw

A red line

Across my kisses

Let my poems

Stay right here

With an unbroken code

Keeping distant from scissors yet

Near to your nakedness

٦ ؼاػف س ـا ؼـ اسبم

ابـ ٦ ؽ غ هفك

ـ٥ ثو٠ ١ب٥ ٦ ــــــــؽ

ثؿاـ ؼف١ب٧ خب ثبؽ ٨١

ـ٥ ٨١ ؽ١ب٥ ىؽؼ٠ اق ؼوز ه٨س٦ ؼـ اوز

ث٠ ػف٧ب٦ س كؼ٧ي

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Arash Afsharآـي اكبـ: بػف

ف ٦ ؼا٦ ٠ سؼج٨ف٥ ؽاـؼبثن ؼ جسف ول٨ؽ ث٦ وف

ف ٦ ؼا٦ ولف ٧ؼ٦ ىبكفولف كفي٠ وبػش ب ث٨ب

اف وف ثبال ق ٦ قؽف ٦ ؼا٦ ٠ ١ ٦ ؼا ا١ ؽا

ز٠ ثػز ثفش٠ ا٠ آؼ ١ب٧

ثب دي ثىش٠ ثف ؼـ٧ب سق ٦ ؽ ؼـغشب ا٧ىشبؼ زفر ٦ قؽ

ب ٠ ث٠ ثبـا٦ ؼػ٨ و٨بـ ٨ك ، ث٠ ب

ؼـ غاة ١ب٥ ب ، سؽ ثبؼ٧ىزHow could you not know there is no interpretation

For a nightmare of two white headless pigeons

How could you not know that travel means a traveler who is a traveling salesman

That my clock‟s alarm at untimely times

Goes off even when its turned off

How could you not know that I don‟t know what hard luck

Street I‟m from

Where the people

Can spit in the ocean with their eyes shut

And the trees lining the street are nodding out

We are satisfied with our raincoats

And the planet, I venture a guess,

In our dreams, is a whirlwind

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translated

by A

lkhas

Poet: Sanaz Golbargوببق جف: بػف

دز دفؼ ٥ س ب ...ث٦ دفؼ

ق٧ف ا٧ د٨فا١ ؿ٨فؼوز ١ب٥ س

.

.ز ١ب٧...غال اق آ١

ث٥ ٨ؽ فكش٠ اؽ

ث٠ س آؼ ا!٨بؼ

Behind your veil

Unveiled… I look on

Beneath the dress of another

Your hands

.

.

To be free of a deer…my eyes

Have the scent of the hunt

You have tainted me

Hunter!

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Po

et: M

eh

riR

ah

man

i

ػفب

:٦

بض

ـ٥

٢ف

بر ـا ٧ي ث٠ ٧ي

ث٠ ١ب٧ ٦ ثؽ

ؼف٥ ٦ وفا٧ ز٢ ٨ه

٦ وذبـ ث٠ ثبؼ

ثبؼ غة ٦ ؼاؽ

ؼب٥ خا٠ قؼ

.... ؼـ ق٦٨ ثبف ـا One by one I tie

Words to my hair

I compose a poem of 40 tresses

I entrust it to the wind

The wind well knows

The meaning of budding

In virgin soil…

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Sahar Norouziyanوطف ـق٧ب: بػف

1)٨ب ب ؼـغش٦ ٨ىز

اف ١ىز ث٨ؽ ٨ىزاف ١ ١ىز

د ٨ىز

2)ز٠ ؿ ثبؽ

ؼـ ا٧ قز٠ ضج٠ اـ٥

٠ ثب غؼي غر فؼآـق٦٧ ؽاـؼ

د٨ب٠ ا٥ ٠ جف٧ك اوز

1)

There is no tree between us

If there is one it is not a willow

And if there is one

It is not weeping

2)

Whether there is a monster

In this pitcher

Or whether it is just one grape

He just wants to be by himself

And has no wishes since

The goblet is overflowing

خشف

:

ػب

اب

ث

Translate

d b

y Alkh

as

Po

et: Farn

az F

ara

zm

an

d

ػفب

:ؽ

اق

كفق

فبك

ث٠ ؼ٨ب ثفؼ ا ؼى ا ـاؼ٨ب٦٧ اق آؿي ٠٨١ غب٦ ا

.ثب خؼ وفاوف وفب٥ س:ؼـ ي اي غاؽ

ا٧ ضفف ١ب ث٠ ب ٦ آ٧ؽثو٠ ١ب

.جػؽ١ب٥ بؼ اق سببر

١ب خب٨ب كف١ب ثبق٦٧ ١بب ثب

ػف١ب٥ بؼـ ـا غفاة.اػبة غفاة دؽـ ـا ف٠٧

بؼـ ؽ ـاضز اوز.دؽـ ثؼ، ـاضز سفب وػز ا٧ ػك٧ك

ده ٦ ؼ٨١

I took my child to the world

The world of my always empty embrace

Despite your constant chill.

I sang into his ear;

These things do not become us

The kisses

Cheerful smiles from watching you.

Right there

Stay amidst our thoughts and playfulness

Mother‟s afternoons are ruined

Cry Father‟s wracked nerves

It‟s easy to become a mother

Becoming a father, even easier.

We are hard, my dear

We will keep you dry

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by AlkhasPoet: Setareh Ansari

وشبـ ابـ٥: بػف

س

غ٦ سف٧ ٨بق ٦

٠ ؼـ ٧

ثب و٦٨ ور

.وفظ ٠ ار ؼاش٠ ا

You

Are my most private need

That in my throat

I have kept you red

With slaps of silence.

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Setareh Ansari

وشبـ ابـ٥: بػف

١ف الزضشب سب

ث ٧ي آف ا٥

اق ؾ١ قغ٦ ا ثبق ٦ ؽ

ق بدؿثف اوز سف ف

آا٥ ق س هش٦

اج٦١ اق غبف ١ب٥ سعوب٢بوز

بـ ك ثب هبضزضو٠ قؼ اؽ

Each word

Even small

Like a sigh

Untangles

A knot

In my wounded mind

It is indescribable

This gentle serenade

The sound of your call to prayer

When

For years

A mass of bitter memories

Has shamelessly surrounded

My home

ثب اػب: شفخ

Translated by Alkhas

Poet: shahriyar Atai٢ف٧بـ ػب٦٧: بػف

ؼوز ١ب٧زثى ؽ ث ؼاؼ ـا ٨ؽ١ؽ،

!ت ١ب٧ز ؼ سر غ٨هاق اثشؽا٥ ٨١ ؼف سب اال

!١كاـسب الر ث٠ ٧بؼ جبز غـؼ ا٠ ١ن اوز ٠ ضفكى اق وف ث٨ىى!او ـا ١فز٠ ٠ ٨ػا١ى ثؿاـ

اب ،ثب٧ؽ ؼوش٢ب٧ز ـا ث٠ خ٨ج ثف٧ك

....! جبز ـا الثالى ثو٠ ١ب٧ غي Your hands

Have the smell of roasted wheat,

Your lips the taste of wet berries!

From the start of this poem till now

I have eaten a thousand bites of chocolate in the memory of your lips!

This is not desire nor is it about having no one

Call it what you will!

But I,

Have to pour your hands into my pocket

And dry your lips between my kisses….!

ثب اػب: شفخ

Translated by Alkhas

Poet: Behrang Ghassemiث٢ف هبو٦: بػف

٠ ثذ٨س٦ "ث٨بـ٥ ثكـ"ث٠ آؼـن سب ىػ٠ ١ب٥ ث٠ ث ثىز ٦ ـو٦

ضو٨وز ؼاـؼكو ؼـ آ٠٧ اوز

٠ ـا ثبق ٦ ؼثفا٥ ػجـ آجالى٦

٠ س ـااق ا٧دب

.ث٠ ث٨بـوشب ٦ ـوبؽ

When you turn into all the addresses on the

prescriptions of “great illnesses”

You enter a dead end

It is the truth

But only in the mirror

That the road will open up

For the ambulance to pass

So that they can

Take you from here

To the hospital

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Adel Ghazviniػبؼ هك٦٧: بػف

ابـ ٠ ؼاؽ ١ب ـو٨ؽؽ ث٠ ب

ثى ثفى ثبؽ ١ب ـو٨ؽؽ ث٠ ب

اق آغف ه٠ ١ب ثؽر ى آؽ ؟

الؽ ١ب ـو٨ؽؽ ث٠ ب! غي ثبي

Its seems as if deep sorrow has reached us

The times of nothing to show have reached us

Do you not like the way that stories end?

Then rejoice! The flocks of crow have reached us

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Aref askari ( kiyan)(٨ب)ػبـف ػىفى: بػف

! اق ٨١دب ثبؽ ثؼ ٦ لز!و اق ت ثب زفاؽ ثؼ ٦ لز

...ؼـ ٠٢١ ٥ ـو٨ؽ ؼ ثىش!دفا٠ ا٥ اق الؽ ثؼ ٦ لز

To be in the garden was the flower‟s delight

The rock spoke of having a light during the night

To arrive during a ruckus and fall in love

Turning into a crow was the butterfly‟s plight

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Mohammad Memariyanطؽ ؼبـ٧ب: بػف

٨ى٧ ـا ث٠ ثبؼ ٦ ـ٧ك

ث٠ ؼوز ١ب٥ ثبق٧ي

ب٠ غا١ؽ غـؼ ؼـ وفق٦٨ ٠ ق١ؽا ـا اقي غا١ؽ فؼ

ؼـ ٠ ١ب٥ ؼـ ، ؼسبـ ٦ اقؽ

١ا٦٧ ٠ ٦ وقؼ ؼـ دب ب٤ ١ا

اوت ١ب٦٧ ٠ ـا ـا ث٠ ـا ٦ ـوبؽ

٨١ ٠ ٨ى٧ ب٠ ٦ غا١ؽI pour my hair

Into the wind

A mischievous hand

My hair will comb

In some land

Where

He gently strokes my womb

In straw huts afar, they play a dotar*

Burning weather that shelters the shoulder of the weather

And horses that bring two roads together

To quickly get me home

At the moment my hair is in need of a comb

*long necked two-stringed (do=2, tar=string) lute from north-eastern Iran

ثب اػب: شفخ

Translated by Alkhas

Poet: Sharareh Jamshidفاـ خ٨ؽ: بػف

د٨ دب٥ ١ف ٠ س ٨ىزثؽ ٦

ـثف٧اق ا٦

وؽـ٥ ػـوفك٠

ثب ثب كس ؼـ فؼ ا٥ اق س ـؼ ؽ ا

غب٦ ؽ I will rise in respect for anyone

Who is not you

Across from me

Don‟t be silly

And trip over yourself

Don‟t cough

Don‟t flap your wings

You have died inside me

I have passed you by

I have become empty

ثب اػب: شفخ

Translated by Alkhas

Poet: Roya Bijaniـ٧ب ث٨م٦: بػف

د٨بجف سبـ٧ػ٨ ٠ ا٧ ـا ٨١ر ب٦١ ٦ ؼاىش٦

ء ا ٠ "كبض٠" ١ب ثو٠ ٦ ؼ١ خك س ٠ سبـ٧ػ ـا وف دب دفوش ٦ ٦

ثب قثب ـ٨ي ار غ آؼ٦ ـا ٦ ـ٧ك٥ لط٠ ١ب٥ شبث ـا ث٠ آس ٦ ق٦ ٠ ؼ٦ ؼـ آ فؼ

ار اوز "بػف"دب٥ الب س ٠ او غؼ ـا

س٢ب ؼ٦ اقؼ ؽ ا٥ ضه ٦ ٠ف٠٧ ١ب٧ قك٠ ٥ آقاؼ٥ اوز

الال٦٧ بؼـ ؼف آقاؼ٥ اوز

قب٠ ١ب و ض٦ ٠ ػه ١ب٧ـا ـ٥ ا٧شفز ؼ٨ب ؽـ ؿاش٠ فا ش٢ ث٠ ػن ار ٦ ؽ

ثب٧ؽ ؼ٧ف سبـ٧ع ثبق٥ ـا غبس٠ ثؽ١ غؼ ـا ث٠ آس ثك ٠ او

!سبـ٧ع اوز ا٧ ثبـ ٠ ث٠ ؼ٨ب آؽ او ـا ؼف ٦ ؿاـ ؿؿا٧ ـا ١ ابؼ فؼ اق ا ؼ٨ب ٨أـ ٠

!ال ١ب٥ اوشلبؼ ؽ جبؽ

اال دجـ ٠ ػ٨ي و٨ب ث٠ ز ٠ابـ بثؼ ؽ ا

اب س اؼا٠ ثؽ !ث٠ ؼ٨ب ث٨ب٧ "ؼف"فا ؼثبـ ث٧ه ٠ ا٧ ثبـ

I am the prophet of history

I am positive that you never knew this

I am that same harlot that

Kisses no one but you who worships my history from head to toe

That with your obscene tongue spill the blood of people

And burn the pages of my book in which meaning has died

Because of your terminologies, you whose name is “poet”

And I feel myself

As the only child turned into a newborn

Whose cries are the whispers of freedom

And mother‟s lullaby‟s are the slogans of freedom

And these are the times of that wild dog that has posted my pictures

On the internet of this modern world

I have to end this game of history

And set myself on fire because my name

Is history!

And this time when I am born I will name myself slogan

And I will bring my food from the other world already prepared

So the phrases won‟t be leftovers from last weeks lunch

And now I am forced to put on sunglasses

As if I have been destroyed

But you keep on going and

Rewrite me so this time I can be born as a poem!

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Andisheh Shahiاسط ضای: بػف

"ؽف ىش٠"

ز٠ ث٠ ؼـ٧ب كؼ٧ي ثؼآ ت ٠ ي ؼ١بز

ق٧ف قثب ٦ ـك٧ؽ ١ب٧ب ـا ١ب ؼؽا ػف

ثب زبه٥ ثبؼ س٨ك ٦ فؼؽ ٥ ـ فؼ ـا ثب ضف كف ٦ ثفؼ ك

سب س٠ سف ث٠ ب سكب ي ١ب٥ س ـا اق ث٨ع ثف٧ؽ ثؼ

ق٧فا ث٦ ؽا ـ٥ ااج ولف ٦ فؼ٥فا ٦ ٨ؽ٥

٠ غ ـا ٦ سبؽ ـ٥ بو٠ ١با ـؼ ـا ث٨ف ث٨ب

ؼـ ؼا ؽك٦ ىش٠ ث٨ؽاق ١ق ١ب ق٦ ١ىش

٠ ٦ غاوز ثفا٧ز اه٨بو٦ اق فاـ٧ؽ ث٠ ؼ٨ب ث٨بـؼ

دبـ ثك ـغشػاثز ـا كؼ٧ي سف ث٨بـ

.ؼـ ا٧ سبـ٦٧ ث٦ كبن

“Broken Shell”

How close I was to the sea

That night that the salt of your mouth

Slid under my tongue

The cliffs sharpened their teeth

With the knife of the wind

As I greedily took in the salty taste of a man

To become more thirsty

It seems that the storm had cut off your ears from the root

Since you rode the waves silently

And did not hear me

As I moved around on the sand

Now get my drift and follow

Throw broken shells into my dress

I am still that same woman

Who wanted to give birth to

An ocean of pearls for you

Keep rowing

And bring your bedding closer

In this darkness with no lantern

ثب اػب: شفخTranslated by Alkhas

Poet: Mana Aghaeiهاا آلای: بػف

Poet: Neda Fazli

Everywhere is emptyسا فضلی: ضاعز

The sky

The earth

The house

Even

Even the shoes on my feet

Are empty

و جا ذالی سد

آسواى

سهي

ذا

حری

حری کفص ای ک ت پان طسر اسد

.ذالی سدتا الراظ: هرزجن

Translated by Alkhas

Supervielle / Saisir

Saisir, saisir le soir, la pomme et la statue, Saisir l'ombre et le mur et le bout de la rue. Saisir le pied, le cou de la femme couchée

Et puis ouvrir les mains. Combien d'oiseaux lâchés Combien

d'oiseaux perdus qui deviennent la rue, L'ombre, le mur, le soir, la pomme et la statue.

Mains vous vous userez A ce grace jeu là. Il faudra vous couper

Un jour vous couper ras.

« ؼـ آؿي فكش »

،ؼـ آؿي فكش، ؼـ آؿي فكش ؿفة، و٨ت سؽ٧ه.ؼـ آؿي فكش وب٠٧ ؼ٧اـ اش٢ب٥ غ٨بثب

. ؼـ آؿي فكش دب فؼ ق غلش٠ ٥ ـ١ب ؽ، . وذه ؼوز ١ب ـا ؼ ز٠ هؽـ دفؽ

٥ اق ؼوز ـكش٠ ٠ غ٨بثب ٦ ؼ ز٠ هؽـ دفؽ. وب٠٧، ؼ٧اـ، ؿفة، و٨ت سؽ٧ه

ا٥ ؼوز ١ب، غؼ ـا ٦ كفوب٨٧ؽ ؼـ ا٧ ثبق٥ غفبى ثب٧ؽ ب ـا ثف٧ؽ .ثب٧ؽ ب ـا ٧ي ـق اق ث٨ع ثف٧ؽ

Translate

d b

y

Masso

ud

Sala

ri

خشف

:

٥الـ

وبؼ

ؼى

Po

et:

Ju

les S

UP

ER

VIE

LLE

ػفب

:

٥ ٧ف

د و

ل

La courbe de tes yeux

La courbe de tes yeux fait le tour de mon coeur,

Un rond de danse et de douceur, Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr, Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que j'ai vécu

C'est que tes yeux ne m'ont pas toujours vu. Feuilles de jour et mousse de rosée, Roseaux du vent, sourires parfumés, Ailes couvrant le monde de lumière, Bateaux chargés du ciel et de la mer,

Chasseurs des bruits et sources des couleurs, Parfums éclos d'une couvée d'aurores Qui gît toujours sur la paille des astres, Comme le jour dépend de l'innocence Le monde entier dépend de tes yeux purs

Et tout mon sang coule dans leurs regards.

١ب٧ز اطب٥ ز

١ب٧ز ؼ ـا ؼـ ٦ ؽ ،، اطب٥ زضو٠ ا٥ اق ـه هفاـ ،

٥ اشدب٥ جب٠ ١ب٠ ٥ قب، ٢اـ.سب ػف ـكش٠ ـا ث٠ ٧بؼ ؽاـ

اؽ ، ١ب٧ز ٠٨١ فا ؽ٧ؽ اق آ٠ زآ ؼ ثف آكشبة، آ ضجبة ١ب٥ ج ،

٥ ػفآ٨ ، ٨ىشب ثبؼ، ؼ جػؽؼ ثب ؼ ٠ خ٢ب ـا اق ـ آؽ اؽ ،

ؼ هب٧ن ٠ ثبـب آوب ؼـ٧بوز ،ؼ ؿؿبف، ؼ ز٠ ٥ ـ ،

ؼ ـا٧ط٠ وف ثفآـؼ اق ث٠٨ ٥ كن زب ثف ٢ب آـ٨ؽ ١

١ب٥ س ثىش٠ اوز ؼ٨ب سب ث٠ قال ز وب ٠ آكشبة ث٠ ث٦ ب٦١ .آ

سب غ خبـ٥ ؼـ آ ب اوز

د ااـ: بػفPoet: Paul Éluard

Translated by Massoud Salariىؼؼ وبالـ٥: شفخ

Virgül

Hiç susmayan

Bir davulun tokmağı

Çağırır kelimeleri

Kağıtlardaki düğüne

وب٥ آ: بػف

Poet: Sunay akın

Translated by Saber Hosseiniبثف ضى٦٨: شفخ

٧ف ،

ث٠ ٥ ؼ٦١ وز ٠

طظ٠ ا٥ غبي ٦ ؼ

بر ـا ؼػر ٦ ؽ

ث٠ خ٦ ٠

ثف ـ٥ بؿؿ ١بوز

Cımbızlı Şiir

Ne atom bombası

Ne Londra Konferansı

Bir elinde cımbız,

Bir elinde ayna;

Umurunda mı dünya!...

اـ١ب ٦: بػفPoet: Orhan Veli Kanık

Translate

d b

y Sabe

r Ho

ssein

i

خشف

:

٦ى٨

ضف

بث

٠ ثت اس

٠ لفاه ؽ

ؼـ ٧ي ؼوش ز٨

ؼـ ؼوز ؼ٧في، آ٠٧

!...ؼ٨ب ػ٨ غ٨ب ٨ىز

س٨١ر جب١ش٦ ؽاـ٧ـا ١ب خؽاوزس ف ث٠ ٥ خف كفي ١ىش٦، فث٠ فؼؿؿا٥ س ؼـ بو٠ ٥ وف ا٥، ب ؼـ ؼ١ب ٨ف س غاة ١ب٥ ػبوب٠ ٦ ث٦٨ ـ٧ب٥ اوشػااب قؽ٦ س ٨كآوب ٨ىز!ثفاؼـ

آوب ٨ىز ف ٠ ا٠٧ ١ف ـق غؽا!ثب٧ؽ سب ثؽ٦١ ، ؼز ـا ؟

اـ١ب ٦: بػفPoet: Orhan Veli Kanık

Translate

d b

y Sabe

r Ho

ssein

i

خشف

:

٦ى٨

ضف

بث

Kuyruklu Şiir

uyuşamayız seninle yollarımız ayrı;

sen ciğercinin kedisi ben sokak kedisi;

senin yiyeceğin kalaylı kapta;

benimki aslan ağzında;

sen aşk rüyaları görürsün, ben kemik

ama seninki de kolay değil, kardeşim;

kolay değil hani;

böyle kuyruk sallamak tanrının günü.

!ثؽ س

دبـ٧ه ١س ٧ي آس ثبق٥

٧ي ٨١ب٥١ س غب٦

٧ي ـؼغب٠ ٥ آؼ اوز

!ط بثؼ فؼ

سفا ث٦ هل٠ ؽا قؼ

ؼـ دبـ٧ه

Translated by Saber Hosseiniبثف ضى٦٨: شفخ

بظ ضز: بػف

Poet: NAZIM HİKMET

Sensiz paris gülüm bir havai fişeği

Bir kuru gürültü

kederli bir ırmak

Yıktı mahvetti beni

Paris'te durup dinlenmeden gülüm seni

çağırmak.

خشف

:

ؼقا

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باو

ال ٢

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Po

et: J.C

. van

Sch

ag

en

ik zal een boom zijn

en ik zal de vogel zijndie in me nestelt

ik zal de grond zijn

waar de boom in worteltwaar de vogel woont

ik zal de wind zijn

en grond en boom en vogel

eindeloos strelen

en onder de boom zal ik de mens zijn

die dit dromend zal bestaan

٦ غا١ ؼـغش٦ ثب ا٥ ثب ٦ غا١ دفؽ

٠ ثف آ٨ب٠ ٦ وبقؼ

٦ غا١ غبى ثبخب٦٧ ٠ ؼـغز ؼـ آ ـ٠٧ ٦ ؼاؽ

١ب خب ٠ دفؽ ثف آ قؽ٦ ٦ ؽ

٦ غا١ ثبؼ ثب ق٨ ؼـغز دفؽ ـا

خبؼا٠ اقي ؼـ ق٧ف ؼـغز اىب غا١ ثؼ

..آ ٠ ؼـ ـ٧ب١ب خؼ غا١ؽ ؼاز

ػفب

:٥ .

غ

ػبو

خشف

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Poet: Remco Campertـ بذفر: بػف

Vrindschap

Ann vrindschap

Moet je niets meer doen

Zoals je ook niet komt

Aan het schilderij

ؼوش٦

ؼـ ـاث٠ ٥ ؼوش٦

س جب٧ؽ بـ ق٧بؼ٥ ث٦

١بـ ٠ ث٠ وب٦ سب ؽ

.ز٨ك٥ ابك٠ ٦ ؼ

٢ال اوبػ٨ قاؼ: شفخ

Translated by Shahla Esmaeilzadeh

Poet: Remco Campertـ بذفر: بػف

De shawl die ik voor je kocht

Van roze en groene shantoeng

De shawl die je zo mooi vond

En die je altijd zou dragen

Die je later,gekust door een ander

In een hotelkamer achter

ب٦ ٠ ثفا٧ز غف٧ؽ

اق وبس ـس٦ وجك

١ب ب٦ ٠ ث٠ زز ق٧جب ٦ آؽ

٦ غاوش٦ ٠٨١ ث٠ فؼز ثبؽ

آفا ثؼؽ١ب ؼـ اسبم ١ش٦ خب ؿاش٦ ،

ى٦ ؼ٧ف٥ آفا ثو٨ؽ

٧ج٠

٧ج٠ ث٠ غؼ ػؽ ؼاؼ٠ ؼـ ا٥ ث٨ ؼـغش٢ب٦٧ ثب ـ٠٧ ١ب٥ ط

ث٠ وف ثف٦ كؼ٧ي ث٠ ق٨

ث٠ اؽاق بك٦ ؼـ اق آوبسب ضه اىب٦ ـا ؼاش٠ ثب ، ٠ وف خب٥ غؼي اوز

اب ثبـا ثبـ٧ؽ

Poet: Kourosh Shivaکورش شیوا: شاعر

٢ال اوبػ٨ قاؼ: شفخTranslated by Shahla Esmaeilzadeh

Poet: Remco Campertـ بذفر: بػف

Zondag

Zondag had ik me voorgesteld

in de hangmat door te brengen

tussen de stevige stammen van de bomen

dicht boven de aarde

en van de hemel ver genoeg verwijderd

om me een mens op zijn plaats te voelen.

Maar het regende

BIJNA NOOIT

Bijna nooit zie je een vogel in de lucht

zich bedenken, zwenken, terug.

٢ال اوبػ٨ قاؼ: شفخ

Translated by Shahla Esmaeilzadeh

Poet: Judith Herzberg٧ؼ٧ز ١فقثفظ: بػف

تقریبه رگز

تقریبه رگز ومی بیىی ک پرود ای در آسمان

.وظرش عض شد، دير بزود، برگردد

I emerge from the museum

At dusk

The blue Nile

Floods over.

اق ق ث٨ف ٦ ق آكشبة ؿفة فؼ ـؼغب٠ء آث٦ ـ ٨.اق ثىشفي وف ـكش٠ اوز

What melts

With the snow

In the springlike afternoon?

A pearl

Loses its gloss.

ثب ؼا٠ ١ب٥ ثففز٠ ز٨ك١ب٥ ؼ٧ف٥ آة ٦ ؼؼـ ا٧ ثؼؽ اق ظ٢ف ث٢بـ؟فاـ٧ؽ٥.ؼـغ غؼ ـا اق ؼوز ٦ ؼ١ؽ

مانا آقایی: مترجم

Translated by Mana Aghaei

فومی سایتو: شاعر

Poet: Fumi Saito

Gloves

I threw into a field

Rise up again

Yellow flowers blooming

from their fingers.

ؼوش ١ب٧ ـاؼـ كـػ٠ ٦ اؽاقآ٥ ١ب٥ قـؼ

. اق وفاشبب ثف٨٧ؽ

Horses

Hearing the sound of the wind

I draw them

Out of the canvas

And make them take off.

اوت ١بؽا٥ ثبؼ ـا ٨ؽ ثؼؽاق ث ٠ ث٨ف ٨ؽب.دب ث٠ ؼ٧ؽ ؿاشؽ

مانا آقایی: مترجم

Translated by Mana Aghaei

فومی سایتو: شاعر

Poet: Fumi Saito

ا ث٦ سبجاق ؼ٨ب٥ ثبـا

ث٠ سىػ٨ف سؽـ آؾـغ ـؼغب٠ ١ب

ا كفقؽ ؽ ٥ ثبؼ٠ ؼـ اق د٦ ز٨ك ؼ٧ف٥ ٦ فؼؼ

فا ٦ بوؽ١فزؽ ٦ ف٧

ا آكف٧ؽ ٥ خ٢ب٦٠ ٦ فؼؼ ٦ زفغؽ

سب كفىش آب٦١ ا ـا غبي ٦ ؽ

Robin Song

I am the hunted king

Of the frost and big icicles

And the bogey cold

With its wind boots.

I am the uncrowned

Of the rainworld

Hunted by lightning and thunder

And rivers.

I am the lost child

Of the wind

Who goes through me looking for something

else

Who can't recognize me though I cry.

I am the maker

Of the world

That rolls to crush

And silence my knowledge

ذس س: ضاعزPoet: Ted-Hughes

Translated by Hosein Mackizadeh

حسي هکی ساز: هرزجن

ا دبؼب سىػ٨ف ؽ ٥خ ٧ع دبـ ١ب٥ ثكـ

وفب٥ ؼ٧وبثب ز٠ ١ب٧ اق ثبؼ

ذزا ي س سزخ

دف٧ب٦

ؼـ وفغ٦ ال٧ وذ٨ؽ ؼ اق بـ غب٠ ار ٦ ؿـددف ١ب ثبق دفؼ ١ب ٨ؽ

ى٦٨ ف اق ؼـ٧بز٠.ث له ١ب٥ س ثف ٠ ا

سب ـق ؼـ ب ث٦ ب ثبـ ـ٧ك هؽ ٦ قال٠ ٥ وفغ٦ اق دبـى شف٠ ٦ ز٨

هف ١ب٥ ـ ثبـا ثف جف ١بؼـ وبػز دح ا٧ ـ س٢ب٦٧ اوز ؼـ ٢ف

ؿفث٦ ثبـا٦ اق بـ غب٠ ار ٦ ؿـ.٦ سا ثج٨ز ف، ؼـ ضفز اق دز دفؼ ١ب٥ ـ

آغف ت خ٥ بؿؿ٥ وذ٨ؽ ٦ ٨.سب هش٦ ٠ جف٦ وفظ د٨ ـ٧ دفدف ؼ

Confusion

I pass your home in a slow vermilion dawn,

The blinds are drawn, and the windows are open.

The soft breeze from the lake

Is like your breath upon my cheek.

All day long I walk in the intermittent rainfall.

I pick a vermilion tulip in the deserted park,

Bright raindrops cling to its petals.

At five o'clock it is a lonely color in the city.

I pass your home in a rainy evening,

I can see you faintly, moving between lighted walls.

Late at night I sit before a white sheet of paper,

Until a fallen vermilion petal quivers before me.

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Between Going and Staying

Between going and staying the day wavers, in love with its own transparency. The circular afternoon is now a bay where the world in stillness rocks. All is visible and all elusive, all is near and can't be touched. Paper, book, pencil, glass, rest in the shade of their names. Time throbbing in my temples repeats the same unchanging syllable of blood. The light turns the indifferent wall Into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye, watching myself in its blank stare. The moment scatters. Motionless,

I stay and go: I am a pause.

٨ب بؽ ـكش

٨ب بؽ ـكش فؼؼ اوز ـق ػن ثب لبك٨ز اي ... ؼـ ػن

ثؼؽ اق ظ٢ف ؽـ غ٨د٦ اوز ا خب٦٧ آ خب ٠ خ٢ب ؼـ و و ٨ؼ

٠١ ز٨ك د٨ؽاوز ٠١ ف٧كا ٠١ ز٨ك كؼ٧ي اوز ه بؽ٦

بؿؿ، شبة،ؽاؼ، ٨ا ،آـ٨ؽ ؼـ وب٠٧ ب ١ب٧ب

قب ؼـ و٨و٠ ١ب٧ ٦ سذؽ سفاـ ٦ ؽ ١دب١ب٥ ٧ىب غ ـا

ـزفاؽ ؼ٧اـ غىفؼ ـا ث٠ ب٧ غ٨ب٦ ثبقسبة ١ب ثؽ ٦ ؽ

غ٧ ـا ٨ب ٦٧ ز ٦ ٧بث ث٠ سبب٥ غ٧ ؼـ ب٦١ س٦٢

ث٦ ضفز، . طظ٠ كف٦ دبؽ.ؼـ٦ سب ا: ٦ ا٧ىش ٦ ـ

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اکرا پاس: ضاعزPoet: Octavio Paz

ب٠ ا٥ اق ق٧ف آةكاـ هجب٦: ؼف

اف ؼوز ٦ ي اق س ثؿـ اف دكي ٦ ي اق س لب د٨ؽا

اف ٦ ؼاىش ػن غفبى اوز ػبن ٦ ؽاف ٦ ؼاىش ؼـ٧ب ػ٨ن اوز س ٦ قؼ

.اف دب٧ب ـا ٦ ؼاىش فع ٦ فؼ

ؼش سا، ث٠ ٧بؼ ثؽ ؼشز جبث٠ ٧بؼ ثؽ ٠ زـ ـ٠٧ ٥ ػوز ـا اق س٠ ثك

ث٠ ٧بؼ ثؽ ٠ اي ز٠ ؼـ بو٠ ز ٦ ٨فؼث٠ ٧بؼ ثؽ ٠ ػن ز٠ ٦ ٨فؼ آـق١ب غؼ ٦ ٦ ؽ

ا٥ ى٦ ٠ ؼ٨ب ـا ثفا٧ ث ؼف٥ ث٠ س٧ف ٨ؽ٥ قغز ـا ث٠ و٠٨ ا بش٦ جف ـا فكش٦

ده ثب٧ؽ ؼوش ـا ث٨ف٥ ٠ وف سب دب ػبو

ج آث٦ زبز ث٠ اػبم ؼػس ٦ ؽ ٠ سدفث٠ ا٥ ؼـ ػن ؼاـ ٠ هب٧و٦

ؼـ اػبم آة له ٦ ، ؿفم ٦ ...ؿفم... ؿفم.... ؿفم... ؿفم

!سب ػف! سب ؿش٠ افقآ٧ب ؽا٥ ٢ب٦٧ ا ـا اق اػبم آة ٦ ٥؟

اف ٦ سا٦ اق ا٧ ؼـ٧ب غال ب ثؽ ٨ىش اف ٦ ؼاىش ٠ ػن غفبى اوز ػبن ٦ ؽ

اف ٦ ؼاىش ؼـ٧ب ػ٨ن اوز س ٦ قؼاف دب٧ب ـا ٦ ؼاىش فع ٦ فؼ

رسال هي ذحد الواء

شار لثای: الطاعز

إى ود حثث سـاعس و أرحل عه

أ ود طثث ساعس و أضفـى هه

ل أ أعزف أى الحة ذطـز جسا ها أحـثثد

ل أ أعزف أى الثحـز عوك جسا ها أتحزخ

ل أ أعـزف ذاذور هــا وـد تـسأخ

إله فعلو أى ال أضراق! إضرمـد

علو وف ألـع جـذر ــان هي األعوـاق

علوـ وـف ذوـخ السهـعح فـ األحـساق

علوـ وـف وــخ الحـة ذرحز األضاق

ـا هـي غـرخ لـ السـا ومػـسج ضــعـز

سرعــد جـزاحه فـ غسري أذـذخ الػثـز

إى وــد أعــش عـلـه فـرـــذ تــسي

فأــا هفرــى هي رأسـ حرى لسهــ

الوج األسرق ف عـه از ح األعــــوـك

أا ها عسي ذجزتــح ف الحـة ال عـسي سرق

إـ أذــفـس ذـحـد الوـاء إـ أغزق أغزق أغزق

ـا وـل الحاضز الواض ـا عوز العوــز

ل ذسوع غذـ المـازم هي أعوـاق الثحز

إى وـد لـا أذـزج هـي ذا الـن

فـأـا ال أعزف فـي العـم

ل أ أعزف أى الحـة ذطـز جسا ها أحــثثد

ل أ أعـزف أى الثحز عوك جسا ها أتحزخ

ل أ أعزف ذاذور هــا وـد تـسأخ

Poet: Nizar Qabbani

Translated by

Mohsen Bolhasani

ثاطى٦طى : شفخ

كاـ هجب٦: بػف

Poet:

(ضاعز)

Poet:ضاعز:

Poet:

Poet:

Translated by Sohrab Rahimi

:ضاعز

اس ش سس٠بضى ز٠ خـ٠ ٨ف ؼاـ ٠ دىش٨ف ثفؼ ١ؽوش٧ي ق فؼ٥ ثىشؼـ الي هفك٥از٨ از٨٧ي دب س ـ ز٨

Atal matal tootoo pow!

Tell me about Hassan‟s cow

It has no milk nor belly

They took its milk to New Dehli

Marry with a Kurdish girlie

Put some red around her curl

Give her the name “Aunties Girl”

A-take and a-put

You take out one foot

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

Folkloric children's poetry شعرفلکریک کدکا

I‟ve got a ball that‟s round and light

It‟s red and it‟s blue and it‟s white

I hit it on the ground with all my might

And it goes and goes till it‟s out of sight

There was a time when I didn‟t have a ball

Got an A in math and hung it on the wall

When daddy came home later that night

He gave me this ball that‟s round and light

tengo un balon redondito

rojo, blanco y azulito

lo tiro por el suelo se va arriba

no tienes ni idea por donde se va

no he tenido ese balon

he hecho muy bien la leccion

papa me dio un regalito

dio ese balon redondit

٧ي سح ؼاـ هو٠٨وفظ ول٨ؽ آث٠٨

٨ك ق٨ ١ا ٨ف ٦ ؼ٦ سب دب ٨ف

ا٧ سد ؽاش ن ١ب غة ش

ثبثب ث٠ ػ٨ؽ٥ ؼاؼ ٠٧ سح هو٦ ؼاؼ

Translated by Alkhasتا الراظ: هرزجن

Folkloric children's poetry شعرفلکریک کدکا

٧ي سح ؼاـ هو٠٨وفظ ول٨ؽ آث٠٨

٨ك ق٨ ١ا ٨ف ٦ ؼ٦ سب دب ٨ف

ا٧ سد ؽاش ن ١ب غة ش

ثبثب ث٠ ػ٨ؽ٥ ؼاؼ ٠٧ سح هو٦ ؼاؼ

پارظیاگلیعی اظپایایی