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آب را گل نكنيم
آب را گل نكنيم:Poem name : WATER
Let’s not muddy the brook
Let’s not muddy the brook
Perhaps a pigeon is drinking water at a distance
Or perhaps in a farther thicket a goldfinch is washing her feathers
Or a pitcher is being filled in a village
Let’s not muddy the brook
Perhaps this brook runs to a poplar’s foot
To wash away the grief of a lonely heart
A dervish may be dipping dry bread in the brook
A beautiful lady walked to the brink of the brook
Let’s not muddy the brook
The lovely face has been doubled
What refreshing water!
What a spring river!
How friendly seem the folk at the upper village!
May their cows always render milk! , May their springs always gush
I have not seen their village
Surely God’s footprints lie at the foot of their huts there moonlight enlightens the expanse of words surely in the upper village hedges are low
There the folk know what sort of flower is anemone
Surely there the blue is blue
A bud is blossoming, the village inhabitants know O what a fine village it must be!
May its orchard-lanes be full of music!
The folk upstream understand the water
They did not muddy the brook We also
Must not muddy the brook
Let’s not muddy the brook
نام شعر : سرگذشت
مي خروشد دريا
مي خروشد دريا.
هيچكس نيست به ساحل دريا.
لكه اي نيست به دريا تاريك
كه شود قايق
اگر آيد نزديك.
مانده بر ساحل
قايقي ريخته شب بر سر او ،
پيكرش را ز رهي نا روشن
برده در تلخي ادراك فرو.
هيچكس نيست كه آيد از راه
و به آب افكندش.
و دير وقت كه هر كوهه آب
حرف با گوش نهان مي زندش،
موجي آشفته فرا مي رسد از راه كه گويد با ما
قصه يك شب طوفاني را.
رفته بود آن شب ماهي گير
تا بگيرد از آب
آنچه پيوندي داشت.
با خيالي در خواب
صبح آن شب ، كه به دريا موجي
تن نمي كوفت به موجي ديگر ،
چشم ماهي گيران ديد
قايقي را به ره آب كه داشت
بر لب از حادثه تلخ شب پيش خبر.
پس كشاندند سوي ساحل خواب آلودش
به همان جاي كه هست
در همين لحظه غمناك بجا
و به نزديكي او
مي خروشد دريا
وز ره دور فرا مي رسد آن موج كه مي گويد باز
از شب طوفاني
داستاني نه دراز.
داستاني نه دراز
Poem name : AN EPISODE
The sea does roar
The sea does roar
Nobody is visible near the shore,
No speck you can see over the dark see
To presume it is a boat
Approaching the shore.
A boat has survived near the shore
Night covering its head,
Its body from a dark path
Immersed in to the bitter perception.
Nobody is there to come
And cast the boat in the sea
And at a moment when every high wave
Speaks to the hidden ear
A disturbed wave arrives to tell
The story of a stormy night
That night the fisherman had gone
To fish from the sea
And dig out that which he
Had dreamed in his fancy.
Next morning when no wave
Jolted with another wave on the sea,
The fisher’s eye could see
A boat on the water in whose mouth
There was the news of accident of the day before.
Then they pulled the boat to the sleepy shore,
Where it is now lying.
And at this very sad moment
Near the boat
The sea is boiling
And wave arrivers from distance to speak again
Of a stormy night,
But the story is brief
