LOVE AND BEAUTY-6

AN ANTHOLOGY OF PERSIAN POETRY FROM 17TH CENTURY
(Selected and translated by Asef Fekrat)

Days and nights
Every night
I am thinking of leaving your love
But in the morning
I am your new lover

Never
My eyes
As old lovers
Have never seen
Such high eyebrows
Such long eyelashes

Fire
How warm you are?
As if your mother had been milked you fire
Instead of milk

Paradise
Looking at your face
In this room
Is watching the flower-garden
In Paradise

Childish
My mother
Had given me the pearl of heart to play
I am childish
I forget it wherever I go

Breeze of spring
Is it the breeze of spring?
Or you are coming?
Is it a flower laughing?
Or you are opening your collar?

God blessing
Did she open her collar for a moment?
Or the blessing window of God was opened and closed

Way
I seek a way
From your heart to mine
I do not know letter
I don not know message

Fire
Entered into my heart
But left immediately
As if she caught fire

In the morning
My sweetheart does not awake
Unless the sun kisses her hands and feet

Madness
Leave the love that makes you mad gradually
Good for me
I went mad from her first look

Hands and feet
With your feet
Shoes are vases
With your hands
Sleaves are candlesticks

Promise
Enlivened me promising
But killed me waiting
Such are fairly promises

First look
Her first look filled my cup
How may I afford the second?

A Heavenly Gift for Herat

Discovery of Grape and Wine in Herat -My Home City
Edited and translated by Asef Fekrat



Herat, on the west of Afghanistan, is an ancient city, with a long history. In Avesta (Darmester, Zand Avesta, 2110) is mentioned that “Herat is the sixth good place that God has created in the world”. Almost all historians and geographers, who have written about Herat, unanimously have told that it is one of most important, populous, fertile cities, and a centre of trade and full of knowledge goods. There are stories about famous kings, including Alexander the Great, who loved this city. Alexander built an Alexandria there about which are interesting stories. The city is also famous for its art and architecture. Herat, for its glorious period in 15th century, has gotten the title of the “Centre of the East Renaissance”. It is located on a crossroad of the world trade. It has been called the Gate of India because it always has been the first place that conquerors entered on their way to India.
It has four proper seasons, long and fantastic sunset, delicious fruits, beautiful pine and cedar trees, more than hundred kinds of grapes, and many other worth mentioning things. These several kinds of grapes all exist, and each one has its own name. Herati grapes are the world’s most famous and delicious grapes. It is as sweet and fine as if it doesn’t have skin. But the wonderful thing for the city is that there is an old story of discovery of wine there for the first time. The story of discovery of grapes and wine in Heart, is mentioned in a famous book - Nawrooznaama- that means ( the book on Equilibrium Day) written by great and famous scholar and poet of 12th century, Omar Khayyam. This story is also turned into poetry by Asef Fekrat. Here, you read a translation of that story that originally is written in Persian.

Wine a Heavenly Gift for Herat

In the heart of Asia
Is located an ancient city now called Herat
Its ancient names were Aria, Hari, and Herai
Once there was a king
Who lived in the citadel called Shamiran-dezh
It means the castle of Shamiran
Therefore, the king entitled Shamiran shah
Famous, brave, just and kind
Loved his subjects and they loved him
In his time, Herat was populous and the people were well-to-do
One day, around the Equinox that they call Nawrooz
The king, the royal family, and courtiers were in country side
Entertaining, hunting, and sightseeing
Suddenly, over their heads, in the deep sky, appeared an eagle
Coiled by a fearful serpent, looked miserable and helpless
Flapping its wings, as if it entreated for help
Shamiran shah addressed his courtiers:
“Who is who wants to save the eagle from this terrible serpent?”
His son, Prince Badhan, stood in front of his father; kissed the earth,
The king gave a hint that meant permission
The Prince kneeled, took the bow, pulled the arrow, targeted the serpent
Without harming the bird, the serpent fell far away, nailed into the earth by the arrow
The eagle, released, enjoyed its freedom and turned around the crowd, several times
One would say it was appreciating the Prince and thanking the king
Finally, the bird disappeared
That year passed well and another spring came
The countryside became green and trees flourished with blossoms
At the same time they were sitting at the same place
Perhaps, the story of the eagle and the serpent had been forgotten
Suddenly, the eagle reappeared
Free, and flapping its wings energetically and joyfully
Turned around, above their heads, several times
Fled down before the court of the king
Threw something from its beak on the earth
Then fled up, turned around the sky several times and disappeared
The king bade the servants to see what the bird had thrown
There were some seed or grain-like things, never seen before
Chief Gardener was summoned to examine what the seeds were
He kissed the earth in front of the king and said:
“God saves the king!
Since we can remember, nobody has seen nor mentioned such a thing
However, let us sow them and wait if they sprout and grow”.
***
They sew the seeds that sprang after some days
The little plant was quite different from the beginning
Fine and winding branches, beautiful well-shaped leaves
The plants grew and brought up clusters of fruit
When the fruit ripened, one would have said they were shining jewels
***
When the fruit looked quite ripened
Chief Gardener picked some clusters
Put them in golden plates and brought them to the king
The king was excited but said:
“Nobody should eat the fruit without experiment
Lest it be a poison “
Put the fruit in hives and take its juice
They put them into hives, and closed the doors
After some times the gardener saw that the hives were boiling
He came to inform the king
Kissed the earth and said:
“God saves our king, the juice in hive is boiling
Without heat and fire”
The physicians of the court said:
Let it boil now, and bring it when it ceased boiling
***
When the juice was ready
Chief Gardener poured some into crystal jars
Brought them to the court, and placed them in front of the king
The king summoned the ministers, physicians and wisemen
Told them to think what they should do
At last, they gave their advice to which the king agreed:
“At prison, there are many guilty people
Convicted to sentence, and waiting for execution
Give them some of this mysterious juice
If they died, they would have been punished
If they survived, let them be free as rewarded
***
They brought a prisoner who was to be executed the next day
Bade him to sit and gave him a cup of the juice
He avoided screaming: “No poison,
Kill me by a sword or hang me!”
However, soldiers forced him to drink
He frowned when he drank and said:
“I never had tasted such a bitter thing.”
But after a while, he rose his head and said:
“May I have another cup?”
They give him other cup and he wanted more
After a third cup and he wanted fourth
They gave him as much as he asked
The more he drank the more he liked to drink
His face became ablaze and his eyes turned red
He laughed, he screamed, he wept, he cried
He said different things he never would have said before
Eventually, he fell in a deep heavy sleep
He remained asleep for three days and three nights
When he got up he said: “Where is that miraculous water?
Please give me some more.”
The king released him as a thanksgiving
****
Then the king summoned all wisemen and all physicians
To decide and test the mysterious drink
They agreed that it was a gift from God and had come from the heaven
But no one should exceed drinking
If one drinks orderly and in a proper way
It will be like the water of life and antidote
But if one exceeds in drinking it will be worse than a poison
They celebrated the event all around country
Then the king ordered to distribute the seeds all over the country
After some time there grew numerous grape gardens and orchards
They called the plant “tak” and “raz”
They called the grapes “angoor”
They called the wine “ mai”
Khayyaam, the great Persian poet and scholar says:
If you drink wine, drink with wise people
Or drink with a beautiful smiley tulip-face sweetheart
Don’t drink too much, don’t be addicted, don’t drink in public
Drink sometimes, drink a little, and drink in private.

Resources:
Darmesteter. Zand Avesta -------> Uraniski. Iranian Etymology. Tehran. ?
Khayyam, Omar. Nawrooznaama (Persian). Editor: Mojtaba Minowi. Tehran. 1321 (Persian calendar).
Saifi Herawi. ( The History of Herat ) (Persian). Editor: Zobair Seddiqi. Culcutta – India. 1943http://www.globalgourmet.com/food/wineday/2000/wd0900/wd090500.html

Lost One

I heard that a Kurd lost his camel in a desert
He searched for the camel but did not find
He could do nothing but to sleep by the way
Sad and grieved for the camel
The day went and the night came
The moon enlightened the desert
The Kurd awoke, heart full of sorrow
But he saw the camel standing under the moonlight
He looked at the moon and said:
How can I praise you?
You are good, nice, beautiful and bright

O Lord! Kindle a light in this desert
So the human wisdom may find its lost one..!
From an ode by Rumi, translated by Asef Fekrat

Mirror at night*

The heart again excited:”O’ God! O’God! ”
The night passed, and without coming dawn, here, another night

Tears flew down from eyelashes, ineffectively
So I felt sorrow for the fall- down of stars

I saw the manner of the wise-men of our time
Our mad was the most polite one

Without you, I imagined the Paradise
It was a death, visiting a fever

I am ashamed unto the waiting custom
I gave, but the ghost that I didn’t have

O, drinkers, there is a message on the edge-line of the wine-cup
The messenger came from the territory of natural disposition

Don’t expect feeling ashamed from statesmen
Where dignity comes, morality leaves

Beware of leaving the honour
Whenever you request anything from anyone

I tried to reach to an ear like a speech
I heard from all, but no one heard from me

It is examined: the less one has
The more one is comfortable

Beedil, I didn’t meet the reality
I got the mirror, but at night
By Beedil, translated by Asef Fekrat

* Beedil, Abdul –Qader(d.1755 CE) is the greatest poet of Hindi School in Persian Poetry. Here you read a translation of one of Beedil’s odes.

You Don’t Go Away

If the vision, the wisdom and the soul go, you don’t go away
I don’t need them, but I need you; you don’t go away
The sun and the heaven are under your shadow
If this sky and sun go, let them go; you don’t go away
O thou, whose toughest words are more lenient than a fine nature
If the purity of this poetic gift goes, you don’t go away
You don’t go, or take my soul with you;
Otherwise you don’t go away
With you, every part of the world is garden or flower bed
In the autumn, if the splendour of gardens goes, you don’t go away
Don’t show me your separation; your separation is cruel
O thou, that stone of Badakhshan are ruby for you, you don’t go away
Who is a particle to tell the sun “you don’t go away!”?
Who is a slave to tell the king “you don’t go away!”?
But you are the water of life and all creatures are fish
It is your kindness and mercy; you don’t go away
The sheet of my heart, as long as the eternity
Written from top to bottom: YOU DON’T GO AWAY

By Rumi - translated by Asef Fekrat

LOVE AND BEAUTY-5

LOVE AND BEAUTY-5AN ANTHOLOGY OF PERSIAN POETRY FROM 17TH CENTURY
(Selected and translated by Asef Fekrat)
Tomorrow-less
So much better with you,
The longest winter night
No, a tomorrowless night

My Letter
Tore my letter,
Without reading
It is another sign
Knowing the subject

Pigeon
I wrote thee a letter
Submitted it to my heart
Faster than all carrier- pigeons

She cannot
She can do anything
But cannot forget me

Ignorance
Ignored me intentionally
You did well
As I watched you better

Together
You with me
Like wave with coast
Coming near-
Running from

Even for once
O drunk of mincing
Even if pour it on earth
Take the cup from my hand
Even for once

Better
Have mentioned me
But at the margin of her letter to my foe
Alas
So much better your forgetfulness was!

Never
For my heart
I shall take
Either a kiss or an abuse
But never back my heart

Quenched lamp
With enlightening cheeks
Wherever you strut
Enlighten by you skirt’s breeze
Quenched lamps

Get the start
In this spring
Even flower cannot find a place
In the garden
Get the start of the verdure
At the bed of the Brooke

Gift
Every stone
Which my enemies throw
For your love
I take as a gift to my friends

First look
From your first look
Yet I have some wine
At the bottom of my cup

Hundred answers
O messenger!
Don’t blame my sweetheart
By tearing my letter.
She sent me hundred answers

First show
From your first show
The sun fell from the sky
From the first motion of your hand
The moonlight was spilled
From the edge of the roof

Days and nights
Thy nights pass like the nights of flowers
My days like the days of nightingales
My life passed in disturbance for your hair
Like water in the shade of hyacinth

LOVE AND BEAUTY-4

LOVE AND BEAUTY-4
AN ANTHOLOGY OF PERSIAN POETRY FROM 17TH CENTURY
(Selected and translated by Asef Fekrat)

Lasso
With a lasso from thy black hair
I will catch my gone life

Long life
I lengthen my short life
Till the Last Day
Attaching to thy hair

Chain
I like unlocking the curls of your hair
With my teeth
Like a mad
Chewing his chain

All together
Drunkenness, madness, and ecstasy
Collected by your eyes
Poured together in my cup

Beauty
Thy hanging hair
A rare night
Thy blazing face from wine
Wonderful twilight

FragileMy heart
A fragile cup
Thy eyes drunk
Lest they break it funning

Shelled almond
Thy body, clean silver
Delicate, like shelled almond
Thy eyes, ravens
Eyebrows, raven’s feather

Eyelashes
Thou, ravished my heart
Ask why my eyes are red?
Frankly I say:
I am restless from thy turned eyelashes

If…
If your eyes have a glance upon me
Almond blossom shall grow forever
On my tomb

Blue eyes
Kindle a blue candle
Upon my tomb
I am martyr of European blue eyes

Gazelle
Thy eyes,
The gazelles who capture the lions
Not being tamed,
Not startled

Sedition
Thy black eyes
Excited a sedition in the city
The gazelles closed the door of desert

Eyelashes
Thy quarrelsome eyelashes
Splits the heart of rock
Fire sweats from thy charming look

Syrup
Wanted to look at me
Looked at herself
She drank her patient’s medical syrup

Fresh
Why should I smell a flower?
My mind is, forever
Fresh from thy hair

Musk
I wrote thy hair’s description
Sweet smell arose from the paper

LOVE AND BEAUTY-3

LOVE AND BEAUTY-3
AN ANTHOLOGY OF PERSIAN POETRY FROM 17TH CENTRY
(Selected and translated by Asef Fekrat)


Thee or soul?
In my life,
How can I describe thy place?
You are in my heart?
Or it is my soul!

Days and nights
Days, I worry for nights
Being without you
Nights, I am restless for tomorrow

Broken room
You did well
Left my heart
No one lives in broken room

Plunder
I had a religion
A heart
And a sure-mind
All are plundered
By curled hair and drunk eyes

Rose
Mincing, sprays rose-water on her body
Stranger rose – smell
Finds its homeland

Sun and dew
Lovely sweat drops
On your cheeks
Reconcile sun with dew

Sun flower
A drop or your sweat
Trickled on the earth
Grew sun flower

Sweat drops
Sweat drops on your face
Flood victims
My wisdom and sense

Empty breast
So fine and spiritual are you
Embracing you
I feel empty my breast

Breeze
My flower branch
Thin and fine
Can not afford embracing

Your flower bed
Your stature-cypress
Your cheeks-purples
No need going to a garden
Have garden at home

Eyebrow- knot
Your cheerful face
Is it eyebrow-knot?
Or dew on rose!

Picture
Amazed of your beauty
I am lifeless
Like a picture on the wall

Your hand
Spring is thankful
You picked off flowers
Your hand keeps them fresher
Breeze
Is it breeze playing with your skirt?
Or curtain shivers upon a silver statue!

Where
Where were you grown?
O strutting cypress!
Charming, like a spring dream

LOVE AND BEAUTY-2

AN ANTHOLOGY OF PERSIAN POETRY FROM 17TH CENTURY
(Selected and translated by Asef Fekrat)


THY WORDS
Kindness or abuse
Your words pacify my heart
Like water
Cold or warm
Extinguishes the fire
THY SMELL
So fond of you
I smell your sweet smell
From my breath

HEART’S PALPITATION
Standing aside you
My heart’s palpitation
Keeps me far awayDUST
The dust from your way aroused
My every hair is a desire hand
RESURRECTION
I want to resurrect from a point
Where my lovely sweetheart
Even for once
Has put her feet

FLOWER
Cheerful flower
Leaves the garden
To be in your room

ROSE BRANCH
Like a rose branch
Grappling with breeze
She likes to be with me
But runs away

SWEAR
I swore one thousand times
Not to mention your name
But I swore always
By your name

FOOTPRINT
Your footprint
Wave of life water
Your footfall
Partridge’s laugh

TWO
Don’t blame
If I have two sweethearts
To be alive
You need one soul and one heart

LIKE A CAT
From a corner of the wall
A hole of the window
Or a gap of the door
Like a cat
I will find my way to you

YOUR SMELL
I was a moment with you
My poem savours of paradise

PERFUME
The breeze is perfumed
By your breath
The water by your picture
LONELY
Without you
Like abandoned rooms
My eyes are closed against all
CROSS
Erect a cross on my tomb
I am leaving this world
Loving a Christian sweetheart

MIRROR
It is not dew upon lawn and flowers
The spring, missing you
Threw down the mirror

LOVE AND BEAUTY-1

AN ANTHOLOGY OF PERSIAN POETRY FROM 17TH CENTURY
(Selected and translated by Asef Fekrat)
HONEY-MILK
Thy silver of body
Like shelled fresh almond
How can I praise thy oval eyes?
***
Thy lips and teeth – when you talk
Are mixed honey with milk

READY
Thy cheeks’ roses
Wet of sweat dew
Thy lips
Buds, ready to kiss

ENVY
Dying of envy
How can I look at cup of wine!
Kisses her lips
Resigns its being

JUJUBE
Jujubes of thy lips
Prescribed for lover’s fever

CHILDISH 
Among fairs
I’m fond of a childish one
Allows a kiss
Wants it back

HURT
Thy lips are hurt
Woe is me!
Drank the wine
Broke the cup

TASTE
Allow a kiss from lips
Another from cheeks
I’ll tell you
Which was the best?

PROFITABLE
Snatching a kiss
A profitable theft
Is double
If retake

PARROTS 
Your smile in the rose-garden
Turns the leaves
Into sweet-spoken parrots

OVERJOYING
The bud is overjoying
It’s told
Looks like your mouth

BUD AND CEDAR
The bud saw thy lips
Dares not to laugh
The cedar saw thy stature
Dares not to boast

DESSERT-LESS
How long can I drink dessert- less?
I am thirsty for thy lips
Serve wine- with dessert

SWEET DEATH
Sweetest death forever
Kissing thy lips
Submitting my soul

EYELASH
The eyelash turned up
Told the eyebrow:
Our arrow
Doesn't need a bow

EARLY MORNING
Stood by my side
Early morning
Enlightening-enlivening
Like the sunshine
Upon a poor grass

FLOWING WATER
My life passed
All in your thought
Like flowing water
In flowers’ shade

GOD’S BLESSING
Is your collar open?
Or the door of God’s blessing?

Night

What is “night”?
It keeps lovers safe from strangers
***
Particularly “tonight”
When the moon is my roommate
***
Me, drunk
The moon, in love
The night, mad…!
A quatrain by Rumi
Translated by Asef Fekrat

Mad?

I said:
“You are wine
I am your cup
I am dead
You are my soul
Now, open the door of the faith”
She said:
“Who may release a mad in the room?”

A quatrain by Rumi 

Translated by Asef Fekrat

You

I don’t know water from soil
I am spoiled and unconscious
I find no one here, in this home
You may do
You are cautious.
***
You are keeping friends together and fine
You are turning the party on
As if you are dining us or you are wine..!
***
Outwardly, you are Sun of all suns
Inwardly, you are Soul of all souls
***
You are enlivening
You are Christ
You make the gardens laugh
You are breeze
But for the thirsties
You are tough
***
O lucky young friend!
Dance and sing:
“O, my young days..!
I miss you
You are remembered- always”

From an Ode by Rumi
Translated by Asef Fekrat

My Flower

 My Flower

I wish the flower I pick for you
Could be cherished by your hand
I wish the flower I pick for you
Touch your finger like a diamond
***
I wish the flower I pick for you
Be at your front just for a while
Attract those big black eyes
Be opened with your smile
***
I wish the flower I pick for you
Be scattered on your way
If just could kiss those sacred feet
Then let it be blown away
***
Do whatever you like to do
With the flower I pick for you
But don't offer it, please
With your hand unto my foe!

Asef Fekrat - October 12, 2003

Thy Hands

Thy handsThe messengers
Interpreting peace,love and modesty
Thy hands
Beautiful swans
Adorning the lake of life.
By short attractive flights,
Parade the fervency of youth.
Thy hands
Rhythmical palpitations,
Narrating the story of love and hope
Beyond letters or sounds.
Thy hands
Two fountains up to the apogee,
Rising from a hidden spring.
Defusing light on cold hurt heart.
Thy hands
The safeguards,
In the ocean of thousand storms.
Rescue me,
Before I be drown.

Asef Fekrat