ببارید تا آبرویش بریزد a wonderful kind of angry

i have thought some more about this poem and what is it in particular that makes me like it so.

i guess that beneath the syntax and meter and the dignified rhythm of it, and the overall way in which it is a beautiful little poem, it is the anger in it that is so good about it.

a latent anger. a self-deprecating, introspective anger.
a wonderful kind of angry.
a beautiful lament.
a resigned anguish.

ببارید ای ابر های جلالی
بر این کهنه ابریق خشک سفالی
ببارید تا آبرویش بریزد
چرا مانده این گونه از عشق خالی؟

ابوطالب مظفری-

*
i would love to translate this, and if i knew that i could do even a half-done job of it, i would attempt it here and now. but i know that i can’t do justice to it now.

maybe after a while, when my infatuation with it reduces, i can make an attempt. for now, it is so high on the pedastel on my mind that anything i do would almost seem as if i am polluting it. strange how we are with things and people we come to love and admire too much. we scare ourselves away from them.

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~ by safrang on July 9, 2009.

3 Responses to “ببارید تا آبرویش بریزد a wonderful kind of angry”

  1. يا چکاوکها!

    قراولان خوابند

    گشاده بالتر از باد های سرگردان

    ز آشيانهء خونين خود فرود آييد

    که ز هر حادثه را در گلوی شب ريزيم

    چو دانه دانهء باران به روی شب ريزيم

    ز بام سرخ شايق به کوی شب ريزيم

    بر آستان شفق آبروی شب ريزيم

    همیشه ی عزیز، فکر کردم خواندن یک بخش از شعر استاد باختری برای تان خالی از لطف نباشد.

  2. we do scare ourselves of them.. don’t we?
    the poem is beautiful.. I have read it before and I meant to look for the whole thing.. but I forgot.. If I did find it, I will share it with you.

  3. Grrrr…curse my inability to read Dari!

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