Shahab Mogharabin is one of the greatest contemporary Iranian poets who has got his reputation through publishing various collections of poetry. His collections include “The grief of flying “, “the dark and bright strides”, “The words like minutes” , “By the side of purple road, I saw my childhood” and his newest poetry collection known as “ Wind will leaf through this book” which has been published recently . He also prepared two other poetry collections which are supposed to be published in near future. Most criticisms have criticized his poetry with regard to the simplicity, the usage of words and peculiar figures of speech which are recognized as the significant characteristics of his poetry. Because of his words eloquence and the earnest logic which is ruled in his words, I determined to translate some of his poems to English. I assume that as his words are pleasurable to read for Iranian people, the translation of his words may open the other aspect of his poetry uniqueness and invite the other people to challenge with the meaning and the images of his poetry. Earlier his poems were translated to Swedish, Turkey and English. It is hoped that in near future, one of his books will be translated to address those people who are interested in reading Persian poetry throughout the world.

four poems by Shahab Mogharabin
translator : Azadeh Davachi

Look through your window

Look through your window

Look through your window

The crowded street

The people’s tumult

The car’s staggering

All of them are delusions

Forget them

Watch the giant ship

Pitches through the wavy water

Weighs anchor

Whistles

The seabirds are turning while screaming

Over the waves that bring

The figure of a far island

Don’t you see

You don’t see

A thick fog has covered all these things in it

You don’t see the fog either

That grows like fungi in it

The crowded street

The people’s tumult

The car’s staggering

Close your window

Among men’s sentence

I pulled you out of men’s sentence

You were a sweet word

Not the word love

Love is bitter

Not the word friendship

Not the verve

The friendship is dry and

The verve is salty

You were sweet

Like the word imagination

Like the word dream

I pulled you out of men’ sentence

I brought you

Like a lovable word

In my bosom’s parenthesis

You like the word dream leaped and went

Among the men’s sentence

All the words

All the words

Convey your meaning

Like the flowers that all of them

Dispel your smell

I keep silent

To forget you

But I’m ranging constantly around my flower

Like a ranger bee

That is banished from its hive

I think with myself

I think with myself

Where is our story ended

The story of this delusion and I

That disarranges the gray area

Of my nightmare and my dreams

A fog has wrapped my inside and outside up

It doesn’t let me see myself

Or the outlook of my surroundings

It will ebb

I know

It will ebb

I think with myself

In the afterward infinite emptiness

What is left for me to see

I had remained in a deep darkness

I had remained in a deep darkness

Your smell spread in my heart

Lightened everywhere

I saw you

Your smell went away and went away

My Night-blooming Jasmine !

I wish I had remained in the deep darkness

My shoulders were paining

My shoulders were paining

Two young wings

Were burgeoning there

I saw that they grew gradually

Not like angles but like a giant eagle

I looked from the peak

I saw that my wings

Shadowed upon you

I leaped

With the stormy turning

I descended from the peak

I grasped you

I was aroused from the sleep

My shoulders pain