( MEHDI AKHAVAN SALESS)
Didi
delā, ke yār nayāmad
Gard
āmad o savār nayāmad
Bogdāḵt šamʿ
o suḵt
sarāpāy
Vān
ṣobḥ-e zarnegār nayāmad
(Original
in Persian)
O
heart, you saw that the loved one did not come
The
dust came and the rider did not come
The
candle burnt to the end
But
the golden dawn did not come.
(
Mehdi Akhavan Saless )
MEHDI
AKHAVAN SALESS ( 1929-1990 )
What
Noon Meem Rashid is to urdu poetry or Nirala is to Hindi Poetry, Mehdi Akhavan
Saless is on similar footing to Persian Poetry . He is considered as pioneer of
Blank verse In Persian Poetry .
Mehdi
Akhavan Saless was born in 1928 in
Mashhad, Iran. He completed his elementary education in Mashad and entered the
city's Technical School in 1941 to study
Metallurgy . He graduated in 1947.
Apart from writing poetry , Saless worked as
school Teacher ,college Lecturer , Film Editor ( Ebrahim Golestan’s film
Production ) , Radio And TV Program Presenter and University Teacher .
He
was a friend and contemporary of Forugh Farrokhzad, Ahmed Shamlou and Sohrab
Sepehri.
He
was a primary influence in developing what came to be known as "New
Poetry" ( Sher e Nau ) in Persian Poetry .
His
poems are intense in feelings , simple in language and laced with symbolic
Metaphors drawn from ancient Iranian civilization .Many critics say that his
poems bring forth a silent sadness that possibly originated from his lonely
soul. From my study , I need to add that the annoyance and disillusionment appearing
in Akhavan’s work represents
an orderly disagreement with political-social events. It also reflects solitude and seclusion of a man
set against overpowering circumstances
.
He
remained an admirer of Gurudev Tagore and Buddha .
In
1990, he visited Germany, England, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and France . In every country , He received an Icon’s
reception and welcome during this trip.
(A SKETCH OF MEHDI AKHAVAN SALESS)
Akhavan died of a heart attack in Tehran
. His tomb is close to FIrdausi’s Mausoleum in Tus (Mashhad, Iran ).
He
used OMID ( Hope ) as his pen name .Saless
Published about 15 poetic collections .
I
post some poems of Saless …
(1)
(THE
EXCUSE )
Yes,
you
are that which the heart desires.
But,
alas!
It
is a long time since that bloody pigeon,
the
searcher of the lost enchanted tower, has flown.
(2)
(THE
MOMENT OF MEETING)
The
moment of meeting is near
Once
again, I am mad, intoxicated;
Once
again trembles my heart, my hand,
As
if I am in a different world;
Ah!
razor, cut not my face in neglect;
Ah!
wind, disturb not my hair’s delight,
Heart,
embarrass me not,
The
moment of meeting is near.
(3)
(THE
LEAFLESS GARDEN )
The
cloud with its cold and damp skin
Has
embraced the heaven tightly;
The
leafless orchard
Is
alone day and night
With
his pure and sad silence.
His
lyre is rain and his song is wind,
His
garment is of nudity cloak,
And
if another garment it must wear,
Let
his Warf and woof be woven by golden ray.
It
can grow or not grow, wherever he wants or doesn’t want;
There
is neither a gardener nor a passer by.
The
depressed orchard
Expects
no spring.
If
his eye sheds no warm luster
And
on his face no leaf of smile grows,
Who
says the leafless orchard is not beautiful?
It
relates the tale of fruits raising their heads to the heaven,
and
now lying in the base coffin in earth.
The
leafless orchard,
His
laughter is tearful blood,
Mounted
for ever on his wild yellow stallion,
It
roams in autumn, the king of seasons.
(4)
(TWO
WINDOWS )
Like
two windows across from each other
We
were aware of every quibbles of another
Everyday
greetings, questions and laughters
Everyday
an appointment for the next day.
It
was not the act of the sun,
Or
the magic of the moon
Curse
the voyage which has done this:
Now
I am heart-broken and silent
'
Because one of the windows is closed.
(5)
(ANCIENT
LAND )
From
all meaningless earthly possessions, if I acclaim
Thee
oh ancient land, I adore
Thee
oh ancient eternal great
If
I adore any, thee I adore
Thee
oh priceless ancient Iran
Thee
oh valuable jewel, I adore
Thee
ancient birthplace of the great nobles
Thee
famous creator of the greats, I adore
Thine
art and thoughts shines through the world
Both
thine art and thine thoughts I adore
May
it be legend or history
Critics
and ancient stories, all I adore
Thine
fantasy, I worship as truth
Thine
reality, as news I adore
Thine
Ahuramazda and Yazatas, I revere
Thine
glory and Faravahar, I adore
To
thine ancient prophet, I take an oath
Who
is a bright and wise sage, I adore
The
noble Zarathustra, more so than
All
other sages and prophets, I adore
Humanity
better than him has not seen and will not see
This
noblest of humanity I adore
His
trios are the greatest guide for the world
This
impactful yet brief guide, I adore
This
great Iranian was a leader
This
Iranian leader I adore
He
Never killed, nor asked others to kill
This
noble path I adore
This
truthful ancient sage
Who
went beyond the legend, I adore
The
eternal intellect of the glorious Mazdak
From
all angles and aspects, I adore
He
died bravely in the war with injustice
That
just lion-heart I adore
Global
and just thoughts he had
More
of his thoughts in our path I adore
Praising
thine great Mani
The
artist and messenger I adore.
(6)
Zemestan
or WINTER remains his master Piece . I add select lines from Zemestan ..
(
WINTER)
“And
if you ever greet them
they
will not pause one instant
to
greet you back.
The
air is heavy, the doors are closed,
Heads
hang lowly, and hands are cloaked.
Your
breath turns to a dark shadow,
Hearts
are fading away under the sway of sorrow.
The
trees are naked, like frozen, forsaken bones,
Earth
is desolate, Sky is falling down.
Moon
and Sun are lost behind Loads of Litter:
It
is, indeed,
The
Reign of Winter.”
“O
My Honest Saviour!
O
My Old Virtuous Companion!
I
hail you with reverence and respect!
Welcome
me back!
Open
me your door!
It
is me, it’s me: Your visitor of all nights!
It
is me, it’s me: The sorrowful errant!
It
is me: The discarded, The beaten stone!
It
is me: The injury to Creation; The song out of tune!
Recall?
Not the black, not the white: The colourless buffoon!
Come
and open me the door!
I
am freezing; open the door before!”
“Tonight
I am here to reimburse you in mass!
I
am here to go clear in front of a wine-glass!
Do
not say “It’s late; it’s almost the crack of dawn!”
The
sky is deceitful with its blushed fawn!
This
red is not from the rays of light;
The
red is the imprint of this cold’s shameless clout!
The
pendant of the bosom of the heavens, Sun,-dead or afoot-
is
buried, obscured, beneath the weight of a nine-storey vault!
O
Counterpart! O Generous Host!
Pour
wine into the glass to light up this bitter exile:
You
see? In this winter days and nights are equal."
(7)
Some
select lines from his poem Dandelion.
(
DANDELION )
Dandelion
! Say, from where you are coming,
From
where and what news you have brought?
May
you bring good tidings!, but
In
vain you roam
Around
my roof and door.
I
don’t expect any news,
Neither
from a friend, nor from a native district;
Go
to such a place where ears and eyes watch you;
Go
to such a place where they expect you.
Dandelion!,
Everything
is blind and deaf in my heart,
Stop
lurking here where the self is a stranger to its soul "
So
Long so much ...
(
Autar Mota )
CHINAR SHADE by
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