بهار Spring

بهار

بهار آمد و پوشید کفش های تو را
بهار آمد و پر کرد ماجرای تو را
بهار آمد وقتی تو خواب بودی
بعد
کنار بستر خود پهن کرد جای تو را
تو خواب بودی
چون روح با تو یک جا شد
به خون تازه خود شست
دست و پای ترا
ز دفتر پدر و مادریت خط خوردی
بهار آمد و پرداخت خون بهای تو را
و بعد آمدن ابرها به خانه تو
و بعد
بّر زدن ابرها صدای تو را
ستاره ها در اتاقت زغال قلیانند
پرنده ها دم تو، حال تو ،هوای تو را
اتاق خواب تو را باد می کند جارو
نسیم صبح به تن می کند ردای تو را
تو با رفاقت در یک لباس در یک خون
گرفته است رفاقت به خود ادای تو را
به خون تازه نو گشت نام تو صوفی
که عشق آمد و پوشید کفش های تو را
 

Spring

Spring came and put on your shoes
Spring came and took you on a journey
Spring came when you were sleeping
and made her bed by your side
 
While you slept
she infused you with her spirit
and dyed you with fresh blood
 
Spring gave you a new name
and bought your freedom
 
Clouds blessed your home
and called your name
 
Stars burn shisha in your room
Your mood, your breath, your heart
take flight like a bird
 
The wind sweeps through your bedroom
You dress yourself with the morning breeze
 
Now you and spring are one
Spring gave you a new name
So love came and put on your shoes
 

We were very lucky that Reza Mohammadi was at the workshop when we were translating this poem because, if in doubt, he always had the final decision on what choices we made.

Take the lineation. In the Dari original, there are no stanzas. Whereas, in his literal translation, Moheb introduced stanzas. As it happened, Reza was quite happy for us to break the poem into stanzas if we saw fit. So we did.

In Dari, there are no capital letters or punctuation so, again, we had to introduce these, as subtly as possible, we hope.

Another, fundamental, difference between Dari and English is that in the former there are no gender markers: spring is neither male nor female. Calling spring ‘it’ in our translation disrupted the feeling of intimacy in the original and so we settled on ‘her’ (with some protests from the Arabic speakers in the room, for whom spring is masculine).

We took a long time to settle on ‘dyed you with fresh blood’. In Dari, the original verb refers to having your hands and feet dyed with henna. Again, other cultural references were embedded in Moheb’s translations of ‘your name was erased from your parents’ family book’ (which we translated as ‘gave you a new name’); and ‘paid the price of your blood’ (‘bought your freedom’).

The idea of clouds gathering round your home, in the UK, is of course very negative indeed! But in Afghanistan, the clouds presaging rain are very welcome, which is why we went for ‘blessed’.

Finally, in ‘Birds became your breath, your hair, your air’ we changed ‘hair’ to heart. In English, hair is something very specific whereas ‘heart’ immediately has non-literal connotations, as ‘hair’ does in Dari.

Spring

Spring came and  wore your shoes
Spring came and filled your life
Spring came when you were sleeping
  then
put her bed beside your bed
 
you were sleeping
she mixed with you like a spirit
wash your body  with the fresh blood
 
your name was erased  from  your parent's family book
Spring came and paid the price of your blood
 
And then
the clouds came to your home
And then
Clouds shuffle your voice
 
Stars  became coal of Shisha in your room
Birds became your breath, your hair, your air
 
the wind  is sweeping your bedroom
Morning breeze is wearing your cloak
 
now, you  and spring are in one dress in one blood
so it renewed your name
so love came to  wear your shoes
 

Original Poem by

Reza Mohammadi

Translated by

Moheb Mudessir with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Dari

Country

Afghanistan