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Meimanat MirSadeghi
Poems
Iran
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Translated to English by Manavaz Alexadrian
From Old Times to Present
The hand that kindled that first fire
at the mouth of the cave,
and the sketch of several mountain deer
drawn by one or to simple lines on the walls,
teaches this wisdom to mankind:
idea is a fire which
expels
the wolves from the human habitation;
idea is the refulgent border of human environment.
In this night of attack of wolves,
lift your hand, O man!
kindle a log in the fire,
and draw an image on the veranda!
so the flame shall continue
to remain awake and lasting
so the house will never
be deprived of images and ornament!
Idea, idea, idea,
the lofty and illuminating border of human environment
from old times to present
from old times to present and ever!
From Womb to Tomb
What do we carry with us?
with all this noise
we are poor empty chariots
dancing on the bounding roar of null and void
on the slope of the street's cobblestone.
What do we carry with us?
those bearing the deposited knapsack
on their shoulders
cross from a narrow side passage.
Here not even the sound of their footsteps
reach the bustling noise of our caravan,
but
those who walk at the margin
recognize
the pioneer footprints
upon the path.
The great track of mankind
the great track of distance from womb to tomb
from that opening to this crevice!
Shut the Windows
The gloom of the melancholy street,
the gloom of the melancholy street at evening.
Shut the windows,
can't you see these creeping of the shadow
the moment you open the window and await
to be sheltered
by the charming scent of greeting and perfume of smile!
Shut the windows,
within the mass of darkness, smoke and ash
what kind of wood's flame it is which is red as blood?
No, it isn't the picture of twilight's blood,
the color of windows
is the symbol of inside and outside catastrophes.
Can't you see the creeping of this shadow?
shut the windows,
shut the windows;
kindle the light,
perhaps your lamp
can show a path.
Untold Poem...
You came and went,
you came and went,
a cradle between eating and sleeping
within the narrow frame of night and day!
Though those moments didn't exist,
those moments that now and then
stopped the rocking of the cradle,
and that narrow frame suddenly,
opened
to the distance, to the horizon's border;
the sun
would rise
with the beating of your blood;
an untold poem would begin
in you....
Though these moments didn't exist,
still you
were an ever-rocking cradle,
within the stinking space of eating and sleeping
within the narrow frame of night and day!
Water and Mirror
Water and mirror are twins,
water in its simple flowing smoothness
bears a secret from the light of the dawn's spirit;
the heart of mirror
is aware of this secret.
Water and mirror are boon friends and harmonious ;
water sings and in its boiling fountain of song
seas are lying.
look at the silence couching in the mirror,
do you hear?
It is full of uproar.
The mirror's heart is simple and free from malice
with the purity flowing in it
water is the mirror of mirrors.
One day the mirror told me:
water and me, are concordant, boon friends, harmonious,
I wish...
I wish water would carry me,
would adorn
its privacy
at nights;
with me;
I wish...
I wish water
would desire me.
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