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Literature, PoetryDecember 24, 2013

Eleven

Note from the translator: Payam Feili’s White Field is a collection of thirteen love poems. In this, his eleventh poem, Payam talks about his love, which is embedded in the social and political context that he lives in. He describes his despair on one endless Yalda night, which is celebrated in Iran on the eve of the Winter Solstice. Lamenting his lover, he also mourns deeply for political prisoners held captive by the corridors of Tehran’s notorious Evin prison. Prisoners like Iranian human rights activist Shiva Nazar Ahari and Iranian human rights lawyer Nasrin Sotoudeh.

 

I blossom, and I grow tall

O! Boy, tender is my torso
This dark Yalda night, upon a high wall
I delve into your solitude, I delve into you

Beneath the moonlight
Through that distant forest
Deep in that listless lake
I catch a glimpse of you in the stars

Oh! How I drift like you Boy
Oh! How I anguish like you Boy

Leaving brings sorrow
Staying brings sorrow
Loitering in these abandoned streets brings sorrow

I grieve for my morning paper, vilified
I grieve for my books, bowdlerised

I mourn my Uncle Ali’s beautiful son
I mourn those somber sparrows soaked to the skin
I mourn the dark corridors of Evin
I mourn for Shiva
I mourn for Nasrin

I despair to decipher your sleeplessness
I despair your fears and your loneliness
I despair those lanky towers of paper

I despair for your fluffy naked feet
I despair for the cold of winter in your body
I despair for your flushed lips, and the clamour

I blossom, and I grow tall
O! Boy, tender is my torso
Out of spite for the beauty of my uncle’s only son, I will one day,
In the streets of the village, to the wits of my despair fall prey.

~ Payam Feili

گل می‌دم، قد می‌کشم

پسرو ساقه‌ی ریواسه تنم

شبِ یلدا، سَرِ دیوارِ بلند

به تو و غربتِ تو سَر می‌زنم

 

تو رو زیر نور ماه

                 توی جنگلای دور

            تهِ برکه‌های خواب

تو رو رو ستاره‌ها می‌بینم

پسرو مثل تو سرگردونم

پسرو مثل خودت غمگینم؛

غمِ رفتن

غمِ موندن

غمِ تو خیابونا ول گشتن

غمِ دسگیری روزنامه‌ی صبح

غمِ بُهتون به کتابا بستن

غمِ زیباییِ تنها پسرِ عموعلی

غم گنجیشکای خیسِ هپلی

غم دالونای تاریکِ اوین

غم شیوا

غم نسرین

 

غم تعبیرِ نخوابیدنِ تو

غم تنهایی و ترسیدنِ تو

غم بُرجای بلندِ کاغذی

پاهای برهنه مو وزوزی

غم سرمای زمستون تو تَنت

غم غوغا، غم سرخِ دَهَنت

 

گل می‌دم، قد می‌کشم

پسرو ساقه‌ی ریواسه تنم

یه روزی از لَجِ زیبایی تنها پسرِ عمو علی

توی کوچه‌های دِه به سیم آخر می‌زنم

 

Payam Feili was born in 1985 in Kermanshah, a city in western Iran. He is a homosexual writer and poet whose works are condemned in Iran due to his sexual orientation. His first book, The Sun’s Platform, was published in Iran when he was nineteen. The book was heavily censored by the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance. Since his subsequent works could not get through the ministry, he started to publish his books outside Iran knowing that it may cause him problems and put him in danger. He has a dozen books that haven’t been able to be published yet. One of his recent poetry books, White Field, has been published in Persian by Nogaam publishing in London in July 2013.

Details of the campaign to translate and publish Payam’s new collection can be found here.

The translator of this poem is working anonymously with Nogaam publishing to bring Payam’s writing to an international audience.

Tags

IranPayam FeiliPoem of the WeekpoetryPoetry World Cuptranslations

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One last love letter...

April 24, 2021

It has taken us some time and patience to come to this decision. TMS would not have seen the success that it did without our readers and the tireless team that ran the magazine for the better part of eight years.

But… all good things must come to an end, especially when we look at the ever-expanding art and literary landscape in Pakistan, the country of the magazine’s birth.

We are amazed and proud of what the next generation of creators are working with, the themes they are featuring, and their inclusivity in the diversity of voices they are publishing. When TMS began, this was the world we envisioned…

Though the magazine has closed and our submissions shuttered, this website will remain open for the foreseeable future as an archive of the great work we published and the astounding collection of diverse voices we were privileged to feature.

If, however, someone is interested in picking up the baton, please email Maryam Piracha, the editor, at [email protected].

Farewell, fam! It’s been quite a ride.

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