The silence is full of unexpressed words...

دلتنگی های آدمی را
باد ، ترانه ای می خواند
رویاهایش را آسمان پرستاره نادیده می گیرد
وهردانه ی برفی به اشکی نریخته می ماند


سکوت
سرشارازسخنان ناگفته است
ازحرکات ناکرده
وشگفتی های به زبان نیامده

دراین سکوت حقیقت ما نهفته است
حقیقت تو
ومن

٭٭٭

پس ازسفرهای بسیار
وعبورازفراز وفرود امواج این دریای طوفان خیز
برآنم
که درکنارتولنگرافکنم

بادبان برچینم
سکان رهاکنم
به خلوت لنگرگاهت درآیم و
درکنارت پهلوگیرم
آغوشت رابازیابم

استواری امن زمین را
زیرپای خویش

٭٭٭

ازکسی نمی پرسند
جه هنگام می تواند خدانگهدار بگوید
ازعادات انسانیش نمی پرسند ، ازخویشتنش نمی پرسند
زمانی به ناگاه
باید با آن رودرروی درآید
تاب آرد
بپذیرد
وداع را
درد مرگ را
فروریختن را
تا دیگربار
بتواند که برخیزد

٭٭٭

گذشته می گذرد
حال ،طماع است
آینده هجوم می آورد

بهتراست بگویمت
برگذشته چیره شو
حال را داوری کن
وآینده را بیاغاز

٭٭٭

وقتی که مرگ مارا برباید
- تورا و مرا-
نباید که درپایان راهمان
علامت سوالی برجای بماند
تنها نقطه ای ساده
همین وبس
چرا که ما
درحیات کوتاه خویش
فرصت های بی شماری داریم
که دریابیمشان

***

[Poems by Margot Bickel, German contemporary poetess, Translation into Persian by late Ahmad Shamlou (1925-2000)

Photo: Babolsar, Caspian Sea, Beautiful province of Mazandaran, Iran: by Mr. Sa'id Mahmoudi Aznaveh]

Happy Nowrooz...

Spring is on the way...

بوي عيدي، بوي توت، بوي كاغذرنگي

بوي تند ماهي‌دودي وسط سفره‌ي نو

بوي ياس جانماز ترمه‌ي مادربزرگ

شادي شکستن قلک پول

وحشت کم شدن سکه‌ي عيدي از شمردن زياد

بوي اسکناس تانخورده‌ي لاي کتاب

برق کفش جفت ‌شده تو گنجه‌ها

عشق يک ستاره ساختن با دولک

ترس ناتموم گذاشتن جريمه‌هاي عيد مدرسه

بوي گل محمدي كه خشک شده لاي کتاب

بوي باغ‌چه، بوي حوض، عطر خوب نذري

شب جمعه پي فانوس توي كوچه گم شدن

توي جوي لاجوردي هوس يه آب‌تني

ميدوني

با اينا زمستونو سر مي‌کنم

با اينا خستگيمو در مي‌کنم

***
[Thanks to Dear Amir Akbari for sharing the beautiful poem "koodakaneh" by late Farhad Mehrad (1943-2002)
Photo: Haft-seen, traditional ceremonial celebration of Nowrooz (Persian New Year), March 20th every year at the exact time of vernal-equinox]

Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (AIOC) or National Iranian Oil Company (NIOC) ?

In the memory of a man who stood tall and made difference:

In the very last days of Persian calendar year 1329, (March 1951), Dr. Mohammad Mosaddegh asked for all the parliament members of Iran to attend the special meeting and vote for the proposal he had been preparing for long time on nationalizing the Iranian oil resources which have been in the hands of the British authorities for long time ...

The name "Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (AIOC)" has changed to "National Iranian Oil Company (NIOC)" afterwards...




[...By 1944, Mosaddegh was once again elected to parliament. This time he took the lead of Jebhe Melli (National Front of Iran), an organization he had founded, aiming to establish democracy and end the foreign presence in Iranian politics, especially regarding the exploitation of Iran's rich oil resources by the "Anglo-Iranian Oil Company" (AIOC).

After negotiations for higher oil royalties failed, on 15 March 1951 the Iranian parliament voted to nationalize Iran's oil industry and seized control of the British-owned and operated AIOC. Prime Minister General Haj-Ali Razmara, elected in June 1950, had opposed the nationalization bill on technical grounds...]
[Text from Wikipedia, largest online free encyclopedia]


***
[Photo: Time Magazine (June 4th, 1951), after the winning proposal of Iranian oil industry nationalization, courtesy of http://web.mit.edu/taalebi
Photo: Dr. Mohammad Mosaddegh, courtesy of Wikipedia]

The smell of the spring...

***
[Poem by late Fereydoun Mosheri, Iranian contemporary poet (1926 - 2000)
Thanks to Dear Arash Noshadravan for sharing the poem and the photo]

For her 100th birthday...

Parvin E'tesami also Parvin Etesami (in Persian: پروین اعتصامی; ‎ 1906–1941), was one of the most prominent Persian poets of 20th century.

Parvin was the daughter of Yusuf E’tesami Ashtiani (E’tesam ol-Molk). Born in 1906 in Tabriz, she studied at an American Girls College in Iran. She is considered the greatest Iranian poetess ever. Although she had a short life, she became famous after her works were published. She died in 1941 by typhus at the age of 35, and was buried in Qom, Iran. She changed her last name to reflect her father's position as E'tesami, or political governor.

In her short life, she managed to achieve great fame amongst Iranians. She was well respected in all circles of life, not just because of her brilliant and revolutionary works, but for her refined manners and the free spirit that she possessed.

Parvin started her poetry career at the young age of 9. She developed a style for expressing people’s pain by making comparisons to natural events. The political events in Iran had a great influence on her way of writing. One of her remarkable series, called Drunk but Aware (Mast vali Hoshyar), won admiration from everyone involved in romantic poetry in Iran.

Parvin is considered the greatest Persian poetess of the Persian classical style. Loneliness and seclusion from social activities - the lot of almost all Iranian women in her day - added to the sad experiences of a sensitive and tender soul and made her the most sincere voice of cruelty of the rulers and wealthy landlords. She knew of the corruption of the leading authorities in the judiciary and in the clergy. Her work, about 210 poems, reflects the reality of life in her day and offers moral solutions.

Although her technique in poetry is unquestionable, E'tesaami's language is at times archaic and she very much seems to be out of touch with the realities of modern life. She mostly repeated the cliches of the Persian traditional poetry as the subjects of her poems. This can be traced to her private education at home with her father, which meant that although she received a first-class eduation, she was almost completely sheltered from the world outside. This shelter broke when she married and had to live for a while in another city. The shock of the ouside world was too much for her fragile self to handle and she divorced and died soon afterwards.

***
[Text From: "Wikipedia", World largest free online encyclopedia
Portrait Photo: Courtesy of BBC Persian ]

This journey of love...

Once upon a time there were a number of students who had decided among themselves to be of help to the children suffering from cancer, from blood diseases, from kidney malfunctioning...
Since they were not Medical school students and so they could not be of direct help, all they wanted to do was to bring hope into the hearts of the children in need...

This journey of love, this beautiful pass of humanity and this tale of great souls, was through staying with the children at the hospitals at the times of their Chemotherapy process, through playing with them in order to make the environment more like home for them or simply just through reading story books for them...

This journey of love...was resulting in amazingly close emotional relationships between those students and the little sweethearts...
This journey of love...was very tough to go on...sometimes...sometimes, when some of the little angels returned to the heaven where they were come from...

This journey of love...was an accident of love...was a pair of eyes, set in tears...tears of love...

Always in my heart...

The proper means of increasing the love we bear for our native country is to reside some time in a foreign one.
[William Shenstone]

Is not it very true? For those who live abroad far from their country, their beloved homeland, their family and their dear ones...


***
[Photo: Kodir, Beautiful evergreen province of Mazandaran, Iran]