در بادیه سوسماری با من راه می سپرد Coming Back from the Hemp Plantation

در بادیه سوسماری با من راه می سپرد

در بادیه سوسماری با من راه می سپرد
 
و به هر قدم نانی از من می طلبید
 
و من که انبانی فراخ داشتم
 
به مزاح به او می گفتم که انبان من بی پایان است، بیا!...
 
بادیه را پیمودم
 
انبان های نان را به پایان بردم
 
و انبان روزها را پرداختم
 
و چه پرورانیدم
 
مگر هیولایی که هم اینک بر درگاه خفته است.
 

Coming Back from the Hemp Plantation

Coming back from the hemp plantation – 
water on one side,
fire on the other –
I’m selling up my shares to the Company
to free myself of the rheumatism
that visits me each night.
 
I fear my wife may come back from the dead
and think I’ve been unfaithful,
that she won’t even ask why I’ve gone to sell trinkets 
on the streets of Karachi.
 

I am coming from hemp farm (First line)

1.
I am coming from hemp farm
Water on one side
Fire on the other 
And I want to sell my share to the Company
To get rid of the rheumatoid
That visits me every night.
 
I fear my wife may come back from the dead
And she may think I have been unfaithful
And many not even question why I went to Karachi 
And may never know peddling is so much easier.
 

This, this first of three poems we translated by the Afghan poet Mohammad Bagher Kolahi Ahari, perfectly encapsulates his strengths as a poet: concision and clarity, delivered in language that is both exact and understated. Poems such as these which seem, at first glance, to be very simple, are extraordinarily difficult to pull off. Their ‘simplicity is, of course, deceptive: these few lines are like a miniature short story in the way they manage to convey the hope and despair of an entire life, in this case an Iranian economic migrant forced into back-breaking labour in Pakistan.

As you’ll see, we altered very little of Alireza’s literal translation – in the first stanza changing ‘farm’ to ‘plantation’, clarifying the illness as ‘rheumatism’, etc. The second verse provoked a lot of discussion, particularly when we tried to find an equivalent for ‘peddling’ which, although accurate, sounds old fashioned. In the end we settled on ‘trinkets’ as a way of the life he might lead in Karachi. We also decided to take out ‘is so much easier’ in the last line, as we felt this was implicit in the poem – that, like many people who travel to cities in search of employment, he’s doing so because he imagines life will be less harsh.

Sarah Maguire, Workshop Facilitator

Original Poem by

Mohammad Bagher Kolahi Ahari

Translated by

Alireza Abiz with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Farsi

Country

Afghanistan