نرده های دور گهواره Railings Around the Crib

نرده های دور گهواره

از اختراع خودم در جوانی
تا کشف بازوان تو
سال ها گذشته بود
محققان شگفت زده زیر باران،راه می رفتند و سوال می کردند
فینیقی ها بودند که آتش را اختراع کردند؟
فینیقی ها بودند که الفبا را اختراع کردند؟
اولین بار حسی‌ست ناب که در آخرین بار تکرار می شود
 
به افلاطون بگو
هستی مچاله ی خاطراتی‌ست
که دردآورتر از دردهای اولیه به لطمه می رسند
به افلاطون بگو
چقدر حرف می زنی؟
بگذار زندگی کنیم
کیک های مربایی بپزیم
و در حاشیه ی بزرگراه قدم بزنیم
 
صلات شب است
نمی دانم چه کسی را باید ستایش کنم
تورا سپاس می گویم ای کینه های نشسته در پله های ذهنم
تو را سپاس می گویم ای لحظه های آکنده از خیانت ابری در خیابان های روشن
تو را سپاس می گویم ای شعله های آبی دیدار در بالکن های برهنه
سپاس و ستایش مر تو راست
که به من بیداری عطا فرمودی
به مرد معتاد همسایه بیداری عطا فرمودی
به پرده های بی رنگ این اتاق قدیمی
رنگی عطا کن زرشکی
و کمک کن اتفاق در غیاب من بیفتد
 
بفلسفیم یا زندگی کنیم؟
مرد جوان تا پایان عمر به خوشه ی انگورها خیره شد
و روی پله ها نشست
بیهوده نصب می شوند نرده های دور گهواره
صبر داشته باش تا زمین دور خورشید بگردد
خورشید دور زمین بگردد
و مشتری با رضایت خاطر انتخاب کند سیاره ی دلخواهش را
آن وقت به درک درستی می رسم از دانایی
عشق را با لگد می رانم از مغز استخوانم
به گردن می گیرم قتل یاکریم ها را
هوشیاری هیچ کدام ازما در شب اثبات نشده بود
عجیب نیست؟
ما دو نفر هستیم
اما چهار صندلی داریم
و میز گرد کوچکمان مدام در سوء تفاهم به سر می بَرَد
 

Railings Around the Crib

Since I created myself in youth
Years had gone by
Until I discovered your embrace,
Scholars walked dazzled under the rain, asking
Did Phoenicians create fire?
Did Phoenicians create the alphabet?
The purity of the first instance is repeated in the last
 
Tell Plato,
Life is crumpled memories
leading to more pain than the original wounds
Tell Plato,
Why do you go on so much?
Let us live
Let us bake cakes with jam
And walk on the side of the road
 
It's the hour of midnight prayers
I don't know who to worship
I thank you, oh grudges sitting on the steps of my mind!
I thank you, oh moments brimming with the cloud of betrayal
In bright streets!
I thank you, oh blue flames of rendezvous on bare balconies
You are worthy of worship and gratitude
You who bestowed upon me the gift of awakening
You who bestowed upon the addict next door his awakening
Please bestow upon the colourless curtains of this old room
A colour, crimson
And help the event happen in my absence
Shall we philosophize or live?
The young man gazed at constellations of grapes until the end of his life
And sat on the steps
The railings around the crib are built in vain
Be patient and let the Earth revolve around the Sun
And let the Sun revolve around the Earth
And let Jupiter choose his favourite planet and be satisfied
Then, I will gain a true understanding of knowledge,
I will banish love with a kick from the marrow of my bones
I will take the blame for the murder of doves
None of us were proven to be sober that night
Isn’t it strange?
We are two people
But we have four chairs
And our small round table constantly lives in misunderstanding
 

Railings Around the Crib

Since I invented myself in youth
Until the discovery of your arms,
Years had gone by.
Researchers walked wonderstruck under the rain, asking:
Were the Phoenicians the ones who invented fire?
Were the Phoenicians the ones who invented the alphabet?
The first time is a pure sense that is repeated the last time.
Tell Plato,
Existence is memories crumpled
That lead to injury more painful than the initial pains
Tell Plato,
Why do you talk so much!
Let us live
Let us bake jam cakes
And walk on the highway margin.
It's the middle of the night.
I don't know who to praise.
I thank you, oh resentments sitting on the steps of my mind!
I thank you, oh moments brimming with the betrayal of a cloud in bright streets!
I thank you, oh blue flames of rendezvous on the bare balconies
You deserve thanks and praise
Who bestowed upon me the gift of wakefulness
And Granted the addicted neighbour wakefulness.
Donate a colour, crimson
To the colourless curtains of this old room
And help the event unfolds in my absence.
Shall we philosophize or live?
The young man gazed at clusters of grapes until the end of his life
,And sat on the steps.
In vain are being installed the railings around the crib.
Be patient until the Earth turns around the Sun
Until the Sun turns around the Earth
And Jupiter chooses his preferred planet with peace of mind.
Then I will gain a true understanding of wisdom,
I will drive love out of my bone marrow with a kick
I will admit the murder of doves.
Soberness of none of us at night had been proved.
Isn’t it strange?
 
We are two people
But we have four chairs
And our small round table constantly lives in misunderstanding.
 

Iranian poet Farzaneh Ghavami, born in 1968, writes poetry that explores women’s experiences living under a repressive government suppressing women’s rights, their femininity, unique voices and ways of life. Her lyrical conversations often serve as a platform for social and political commentary on the current socio-political situation in Iran.

We had two full sessions to translate “Railings Around the Crib.” The poem is full of luminous metaphors and powerful imagery. In our translation process, we simplified some of the lines, looking for alternatives that felt closer to the original poem. For example, we changed “The first time is a pure sense that is repeated the last time” to “The purity of the first instance is repeated in the last”, clarifying the poet’s intention.

We also transformed “Were the Phoenicians the ones who invented fire?” to “Did Phoenicians create fire?” to capture some of the everyday language used in Ghavami’s original poem written in Persian. We had a lengthy discussion about the line “It’s the middle of the night” and ultimately settled on “It’s the hour of midnight prayers” to incorporate a spiritual and religious reference that also denotes a specific time of day, something that was important for clarity and the build-up of meaning in the rest of the stanza.

The verse containing the poem’s title, “In vain are being installed the railings around the crib”, was translated as “The railings around the crib are built in vain”. This was done to convey a range of ideas, including motherhood, political violence, and oppression, as well as a prevalent sense of irony that is present throughout the poem.

– Leo Boix, Poet-Facilitator

Original Poem by

Farzaneh Ghavami

Translated by

Alireza Abiz with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Persian

Country

Iran