...The poems never die to me...

"Greetings, Heydar Baba"
(A mountain near Tabriz, Iran)
By: Late Mohammad Hossein Shahriyar (Behjat-e Tabrizi)
English Translation from Azeri by: Dr. Hassan Javadi


Heydar Baba, when the thunder resounds across the skies,
When floods roar down the mountainsides,
And the girls line up to watch it rushing by,
Send my greetings to the tribesmen and the village folks...
And remember me and my name once more.

Heydar Baba, when pheasants take flight,
And the rabbits scurry from flowering bush,
When your garden burst into full bloom,
May those who remember us live long...
And may our saddened hearts be gladdened.

When the March wind strikes down the bowers,
Primrose and snowdrops appear from the frozen earth,
When the clouds wing their white shirts,
Let us be remembered once again
Let our sorrows rise up like a mountain.

Heydar Baba, let your back bear the mark of the sun.
Let your streams weep and your face beam with smiles.
Let your children put together a bouquet
And send it to us when the wind blows this way
So that, perhaps, our sleepy fortune be awakened.

Haydar Baba, may your brows be bright.
May you be circled by streams and gardens.
And after us, may you live long.
This world is full of misfortunes and losses.
The world is replete with those bereaved of sons and orphaned.

Heydar Baba, my steps never crossed your pass...
My life was spent, becoming too late to visit you...
I know not what became of all those beautiful girls...
I never knew about deadends, about paths of "no return".
I never knew about separation, loss and death.



[From: © Azerbaijan International 1993. All rights reserved]