Translation from the Farsi By Neal Koga. Farrokhzad, on the other hand, begins her poem with the first stage of the journey, but she never reaches the final stage and remains unable to declare victory. Forugh Farrokhzad — was an Iranian poet and filmmaker. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. March Featuring four writers from the Iranian diaspora and a survey of post-apartheid South African crime fiction. 
| Uploader: | Makinos |
| Date Added: | 28 November 2007 |
| File Size: | 35.14 Mb |
| Operating Systems: | Windows NT/2000/XP/2003/2003/7/8/10 MacOS 10/X |
| Downloads: | 11770 |
| Price: | Free* [*Free Regsitration Required] |
Farrokhzad, on the other hand, begins her poem with the first stage of the journey, but she never reaches the final stage and remains unable to declare victory. March Featuring four writers from the Iranian diaspora and a survey of post-apartheid South African crime fiction.
Tavalodi Digar تولدی دیگر – ایران آنلاین
Four Poems, by Jane Hirshfield. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. Skip to main content. This unification with the beloved drastically changes his poetic tone and theme from longing to celebration.
Diggar from the Farsi By Neal Koga. He also composes and publishes songs under the name Jamal. And the swallows will lay their eggs in the hollows of my ink-stained fingers.
Tavalodi Digar تولدی دیگر
Me, I know a little grief-stricken fairy who dwells in the ocean and plays her heart through a wooden flute, softly, softly. In this verse I sighed for you, sighed, ah, in reciting this verse I grafted you to tree and water and fire.
She leaves her version of Rebirth in the stage of longing and remains within it until the end of her poetic life. Neal Koga translates short stories and poetry from German, Persian, and Turkish, and works freelance as a manuscript editor. Two Poems from the Philippines, by Marjorie Evasco. In a room the size of loneliness, my heart, the size of a passionate love, regards the simple subterfuges of its own good fortune:.
Tavalodi Digar تولدی دیگر
Whether she was able to reach the goal with which she challenged herself, or if she ever found the answer to her quest remains undetermined. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.
Create new account Request new password. Perhaps life is a rope with which a man hangs himself digarr a tree, perhaps life is a child coming home from school. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent.
Oh, my lot is this, my lot is this: This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Perhaps life is a long avenue which a woman crosses each day with a basket.
The third and final stage is unification with God and victory over the human condition. The journey of a solid body along the line of time, and, through a solid body, impregnating the dry and lifeless line of time - a body become aware of the image of a mirror returning from a party. tavaloi
Out of these cookies, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are as essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website.
No fisherman will ever catch a pearl in some meager stream that drains out into a ditch.
Renew your Online Subscription. Home Magazine March Poetry. Perhaps life is that moment, enclosed within itself, when my gaze is laid waste within the black center of your eye. The second stage is the laborious process of reaching the beloved, in which the mystic shows the extent of his tolerance for suffering, his capacity for self-denial, and his devotion to God.
These cookies do not store any personal information. Perhaps life is the lighting of a cigarette in the languorous interval between two intimate embraces in bed, or the absent-minded passing of a passer-by who raises his hat and with a meaningless smile wishes another passer-by good morning.
But opting out of some of these cookies may have an effect on your browsing experience.
Banaras by Kedarnath Singh. I plant my hands in the garden; I will become green and lush, I know, I know, I know. There is an alleyway which my heart has stolen from the streets of my childhood.
No comments:
Post a Comment