يادگار

Abarmard
by Abarmard
05-Jun-2008
 

دستانم سرد است
تمام سلولهای بدنم بی حسند
بيرون
درختان خميده از سنگينی برف
با تكانی از باد
گاهگاهی از بار خود كم ميكنند

گوشه و كنار اين شهر سرماست
جوهر قلمم رنگ و شكل سرما دارد

همه چيز حكايت از پيروزی دندانهای زمستان است

با يادگاری از لحظه های سبز آفتابی
خودم را گرم ميكنم

شايد اين بهار با نبود خورشيد هم بتواند باغچه گرمی داشته باشد

يادگار آن روزهای شاد و سبز به دستانم كمی گرمی ميدهد
زمانی كه از در خانه معشوق صدها بار گذر ميكنی كه شايد يك دم ترا ببيند؛
عطر بهاری
رقص دختران و پسران در خيابان
آواز گنجشكان در شاخه های پر بار و سبز

آه...
شايد زمان برگردد و من دوباره كوچك شوم
شايد كه اين كابوس با آمدن آفتاب برای هميشه شكسته شود
شايد كه گنجشكان نمی خوانند و خاموشند تا برگردند
تا زمان برگردد!
شايد زمان برگردد...

زمستان ١٩٩٦


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Oct 23, 2012
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Jan 24, 2012
more from Abarmard
 
Abarmard

Thanks

by Abarmard on

Very kind comments, thanks


sadegh

Profound and moving, thanks

by sadegh on

Profound and moving, thanks for sharing...

Ba Arezu-ye Movafaghiat, Sadegh

 


Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez

motarjem Sepaas!

by Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez on

You are awesome! Thanks a million. Great translation. :o)

  Abarmard most beautiful poem. My poetry pales in comparison to yours. :o)

 

Solh va Doosti

 


default

for Natalia

by motarjem (not verified) on

just a quick shot at it, word for word, don't expect the same poetic elegance my dear :-)

The souvenir

My hands are cold
All the cells of my body are numb
Outside
The trees that are bending under the snow’s weight
With a breeze
Subside their load
Every corner of this city is cold
The ink in my pen looks cold
Everything tells the story of the winter’s teeth victory
With the memory of the sunny green moments
I warm myself

Maybe this spring the garden can be warm without the sun
When you pass by the house of the beloved a hundred times, so maybe she could see you there for a second
The scent of spring
Girls and boys dancing on the street
Sparrows singing in the bountiful and green branches

Oh…
Maybe time can reverse and I can be young again
Maybe this nightmare would break forever once the sun comes out
Maybe the sparrows aren’t singing until they return
Until the time returns
Maybe time would reverse….


Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez

Translation Please, please...................

by Natalia Alvarado-Alvarez on

I wish  I could read the poem. Translation anyone, please

:o)

 From the comments, I gather it is about being home sick

I have never been to Iran but I long to see the Caspian Sea

Yes, I  know, you probably think me silly

Solh va Doosti

ناتاليا


Sadaia_qesa

NICE !

by Sadaia_qesa on

 

 

Ba Ma Gofta Boodan

Un Kalama Moqades Ra Ba Shoma Khahim Amookhd

Wleeken

Ba Khater Un Uoqbatei Jan Farsai Tahamol MibideTA Kard

Uoqbate Dooshwar Ra Chenoon Taub Awardeem

Arrii

Ka Kalam MoqadesaMon

Barii Az Khatar
Gorikht

 

-------------------------------

sham o saayeh, sham o sayeh

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=jryRJQbmK5M&feature...

 

Enjoy!

 

 


Ali P.

Good!

by Ali P. on

Well done!

:-)

Ali P.


default

Thank you. Beatifully

by mm (not verified) on

Thank you. Beatifully encapsulates our glory days! Those were the days.


ebi amirhosseini

Abarmard-e-Aziz!!

by ebi amirhosseini on

Didn't know you're a man of Verse too! ?

An Abar-poem, from an Abarmard!

Vasfe Haaleh Kheyli Az Maa Ghorbat-neshinaan!!

Jaanaa Sokhan Az Zabaane Maa Miguee!!

Your poem reminded me both of " Kucheh", by Moshiri,and "Zemestaan",by Akhavan .

Thanks !!

Ebi

P.S.

Since you mentioned 'Nima',this one for you:

Nima Yushij خون سرد

 

... من از اين دونان شهرستان نيم

خاطر پر درد كوهستانيم،

كز بدي بخت، در شهر شما

روزگاري رفت و هستم مبتلا!

هر سري با عالم خاصي خوش است

هر كه را كه يك چيزي خوب و دلكش است ،

من خوشم با زندگي كوهيان

چون كه عادت دارم از طفلي بدان .

*****

به به از آنجا كه ماواي من است،

وز سراسر مردم شهر ايمن است!

اندر او نه شوكتي ، نه زينتي

نه تقليد، نه فريب و حيلتي .

به به از آن آتش شبهاي تار

در كنار گوسفند و كوهسار!

*****

به به از آن شورش و آن همهمه

كه بيفتد گاهگاهي در رمه :

بانگ چوپانان، صداي هاي هاي،

بانگ زنگ گوسفندان ، بانگ ناي !

زندگي در شهر، فرسايد مرا

صحبت شهري بيازارد مرا ...

زين تمدن، خلق در هم اوفتاد

آفرين بروحشت اعصار باد ...

(( حوت 1299 ))


FixHTML





 


default

Very cool..

by LiveFromTehran It's THU NITE (not verified) on

I don't read your family's comment but you. Do you still love shah? if you do than i'm in your side!!!

I know we can not go back to that times but we can teach our children who they were,let follow their path and help one another to preserve persian culture not Islam.


Abarmard

Thanks for you comments

by Abarmard on

Very nice to hear your feed backs. Thanks Nazy and it's nice to hear someone with the same experiences:)

 

Mehdi and Nazy, You are wise, kind and politically/socially intelligent. Nice to hear from you.

Anonymouse good point:)

 

Mr. Live From Tehran, you are mistaking. I lived well under Shah and I recognize that. My family still loves Shah and can be called Shaholahis. But I can't go back to those days anymore. They are gone and I can now only think forward. That's all. As I have said many times in my comments, Gool khordim...now what?


default

To: Abmarmard

by Live From Tehran (not verified) on

Mr: abarmard you always make negative comments against Pahlavi'es dynasty. However your poem illicit found memories of your childhood within that time of his dynasty. who do you think created that environment in which you and i could be so free and happy?

You're being hypocritical and contradictory.


Nazy Kaviani

On those heavy green branches

by Nazy Kaviani on

I remember,

The days you passed by your lover's house a hundred times, hoping that she would see you for a moment...

The fragrance of spring...
Boys and girls dancing on the street...
And the sound of birds chirping on those heavy green branches...

A very nice poem, Abarmard. I don't know whose memories are weighing on my imagination's "heavy green branches" this morning, yours or mine. Thank you.


Anonymouse

Good poem

by Anonymouse on

Sometimes you want the time to come back and some time you don't and sometimes you just don't know.  I like not being able to do much in a cold winter day.  It makes us leave our urban life and take stock of simple things, like thoughts.


Mehdi

Pretty good

by Mehdi on

I think you have a number of friends on this site. They care about how you are doing; they follow your postings. Say hello to them in one of your poems, please.


IRANdokht

Abarmard jan

by IRANdokht on

we've all been there but there is no reason to think that you never want to see Iran again! Not only I am sure you have seen her again, I have faith that it'll come a day we can all return and live there in peace.

Hope is a beautiful thing, it warms you from the inside :0)

IRANdokht


Abarmard

thanks

by Abarmard on

Manuchehr jan and Dokhtar e Iran e Aziz I actually don't think sad when I write (or used to write) but was severlly under influence of Forugh, Akhavan, Shamloo, and a bit of Nima. I read a lot of Hedayat and Kafka, gogol and Nietzsche. You must forgive my writing that was not a direct reflection of my state of mind, but a side line of the social awareness and sufferrings, not always related to me! Also many of my writing of the time was the image of the revolution and Islamic Republic. Or how I missed Iran... that I did not want to see again!!

IRANdokht

melancholy

by IRANdokht on

That was a very sad state of mind that I know a lot of us have experienced. I think living in a cold climate provokes feeling homesick and depression a lot more than nice sunny weather.

Beautiful poem Abarmard khan! Nice job!

IRANdokht


Manoucher Avaznia

Wonderfu

by Manoucher Avaznia on

Good piece. 

ابر مرد جان؛

 فضولی بی محل را بر من ببخشایید.  چکامه ات انگیزه ای انگیخت که توان ایستاده گی در برابر شوق از من ربود. 

 

باید از گرمی خورشید غزل گرما یافت

و چو بستان رویید؛

چو گلستان خندید.

بادۀ همرهی سرخ شقایق نوشید.

راه بی پایانی

تا سراپردۀ آرامش کیهانی رفت. 

 

پیروز باشی 

منوچهر عو ض نیا