Poems are translated by:
Faranak Moshiri, Spring 1998
"Tender as Rain, In Celebration of Fereidoun Moshiri",

Ali Dehbashi

Research: Iran

Fereidoun Moshiri

Literature: Poems of Iranian Poet, Fereidoun Moshiri
Let Us Be Human
A dove was nipping seeds,
A weeping willow was dancing,
A sparrow was building a nest,
The sun was watching.

From atop the aspen trees, dawn was returning.
With swallow's merriment, daytime was beginning.

Nature's musicians freely lay on this wide-open grass,
Making music in Dastan and Nava modes.

The meadow was decorated like butterfly wings.
The colorful butterfly, flew here and there, spring.

I've witnessed that in every particle of matter
There's indeed someone's loving soul, someone's bright breath!

This pure and caring soul is blown into all.
This bright breeze pours out of earth's heart
And blows on all.

If eyes are to be about the visible and invisible keen,
They would see the commotion within these scene.

Sun, like a mother, full of kindness, gleams.
Down the sky's pure mirror, light streams.

Earth's heart beats to the same tune as time.
Sound waves of music of growth! O, what joyful chime!

Clouds arrive, full of giving and self-sacrifice.
Bestow their necklaces to the fields of rice!

So that grass may sing refreshed, river cries.
To turn sap into rosewater, water tries!

Soil toils to let seeds sprout!
Wind dances so buds may sing aloud!

Bird sings, so that rock is not alone,
Sun strives to make amber from the stone!

From afar, grapevine steals kisses from the sun, in hundreds.
So that sheaves of grapes may grow, in hundreds!

Cedar helps the newly rising morning glory
Climb up her branches.

Blissful are those who worship sun and earth
For there's only love and kindness, no hostilities, no hatred.

Suddenly, tears well up in my eyes
I choke in my burning chest, ah!

But why they can we not be this way?
Come to our senses and whish to be human.
In That Fair World...
May I be allowed,
To behold the hue of that fresh blossom
As I stand at the base of this wall?

And, through this bloody, thorny fence,
This barbed wire,
May I drink a sip of spring water?

May I be allowed "Outside, In Front of the Door"
And to regain my strength,
Rest by this tree, may I?

Or, must I pass through this road,
A stranger, now and always,
Swallow centuries of "YOU MAY NOT"
Like a dagger piercing my patient throat?

In the shadow land of this vast cerulean tent,
It would have been fair,
If trees, land, water or sunshine,
Did not belong to anyone!
Or, better yet,
Belonged to all.

A world of friends, all familiar,
One big house, this globe, and its dwellers,
One family,
Bond by fibers of their souls!

Together, for one another,
With helpful hands,
Keeping pace.

In that fair world,
Green meadows have the horizon of border!
Flower gardens have walls of breeze!

With each blooming sprout,
The surging of light,
The rapture of love.
In every song,
The warmth of a caress,
The tune of compassion.
Gardeners' smiles shine like lanterns,
Farmers' chants soar to heavens!

We toil together.
Hearts, abundant with joy of living,
Faces, fresh as gardens of miniature roses,
Eyes, teeming with love!

We sow love like seeds in soil.
We compose poetry like buds on trees!

We, and everyone alike,
Full of music, Free of bonds,
The Alley
On a moonlit night, once again,
Through the alley, I wandered, without you.
My body, an eye gazing in search of you,
My soul, a cup teeming with anticipation,
Of seeing you,
Now, I became the mad lover, anew!

Deep in my soul's treasure-chest,
A flower, your memory, gleaming.
The garden of a thousand memories, smiling.
The scent of a thousand memories, beaming.

That night, I recalled,
Through the alley, we wandered, side by side,
Wings wide-open, in cherished solitude, soaring.
For a time, by the brook, resting.
You, all the world's secret in your black eyes.
I, by your glances, mesmerized.

Clear skies, quiet night,
Faith smiling, time tame.
Moonlight, grapes pouring down into the water.
Tree branches, fingers reaching up to the moon.
The night, the meadow, flowers and rocks,
silently charmed by the nightingale's song.
Your words of warning, I recalled,
Avoid this love!
Behold this brook for a while!
Water mirrors timid love.
Today, you care for a glance of your lover,
But, tomorrow, your heart will belong to another.
Leave this town, Forget this love.

How would I avoid this love,
I do not know how, I said.
How would I leave your side
I can not now, nor ever, I said.

That first day, my heart became a bird of desire.
Like a dove, I perched on your roof,
Rocks, you cast at me,
I did not fly away.
I did not fall apart.

A prairie deer am I, you the hunter,
Round your traps, I wander and wander,
For to be captured by you, to surrender.

How would I avoid this love,
I do not know how, I said.
How would I leave your side,
I can not now, nor ever, I said.

From a branch, a teardrop, falling.
A bitter moan, an owl, flying.
Tears in your eyes, gleaming.
Moon, at your love, beaming.

You fell silent, I recall.
Covered by a blanket of gloom,
I did not fly away.
I did not fall apart.

Many a night have passed in melancholy darkness.
You have abandoned your tormented lover.
You would not set foot in that alley again.
Oh, but now, but how,
Through the alley, I wandered, without you.
My Best of Best
Yellow, azure, and purple,
Green, blue, and violet,
I have sat among violets,
Year upon year,
Morning, early.

By the fountain of dawn-
Their heads nestled on each other's shoulders,
Their wet hair in the hands of the wind,
Their faces concealed in shadow of modesty,
Colors bloomed in the limpid warmth of perfumes.
There flows from their blissful silence
The best of songs,
The best of hymns!

On the velvet glances of the violets
I am borne, lighter than a breeze,
From the garden's bed of violets
To the violet beds of your eyes
Where, side by side, have grown
Yellow and azure and purple,
Green and blue and violet,
In the same modest silence,
Among the same songs and scents.
The best of all that was and is,
The best of all that was and is.

In the violet garden of your eyes
I have trailed through paradise,
I have reached the best of spring times.

O, your sorrow, the companion of my life's best hours!
The moments of my being are filled with you
All day,
All night,
All week,
All month,
In my chambers, in the alley, on the road,
In air, trees, grass, water, soil
In the entangled lines of a book
In the azure realm of sleep!

O, your departure, the best excuse for crying!
without you, I have come to the summit of regret.

O, your caress, the best hope for living!
By your side, I have passed the summit of ineffable pleasure.

In the violet garden of your eyes,
Yellow and azure and purple leaves,
Green and blue and violet perfumes,
Compose unheard melodies,
Better than all songs and tunes.

On the delicate velvet of your cheeks,
The colorful buds the humble-plant,
Open fresh leaf upon leaf
Better than all colors and secrets!

O, my darling, how good, how good you are!
How your sweet name intoxicates me,
Better far than wine,
better than purest poetry!
Your name is the best hymn for living,
Yet, in the divine privacy of my imagination,
I call you by this name my best of best,
"My Best of Best"!


Research: Iranian Contemporary Poems


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