On the Occasion of The International Women's Day

Persian Poem: A Woman I Know
Poet: Fariba Shesh Blooki
Recitaton by: Asghar Tavassoli
Translation by: MPD

Special thanks to Souri for suggesting this poem translation on the occasion of The International Women's Day.

 

A Woman I Know

A woman I know
who has the zeal for feathers and wings
but because she is so passionate
she is two hundred folds apprehensive of the trip

A woman I know
who, in the corner of a house,
in between washing and cooking,
in the kitchen,
sings a love song
Her gaze is modest and lonely
Her voice is tired and somber
Her hope is at the end of tomorrow

A woman I know
who says she is regretful
Why has she given him her heart!
What about him is worthy of her!

A woman mumbles
I am weary of this house
But, she asks of herself this
who would comb my baby's hair
after I leave?

A woman is pregnant with pain
A woman has a newborn sorrow
A woman cries and says,
I have low milk in my breast

A woman weaves a netted dress
by the fabric of her loneliness
A woman, in a dark corner,
prays for light

A woman accustomed to chains
A woman intimate with prison
all of her shares is this,
the cold look of a prison guard

A woman I know
who would die of an insult
but she sings
that this is the game of life

A woman puts up with poverty
A woman sleeps with tears
A woman - with grief and amazement-
does not know her sin

A woman hides her varicose veins of the leg
A woman hides her secret pain,
from the people
so they won’t say,
How miserable!  How miserable!

A woman I know
whose poems smell of sadness
but she smiles and says,
the world has twists and turns

A woman I know
who, every night, puts her children to bed
reading stories and poems
even thought, in her heart,
she has overwhelming pain

A woman is scared of leaving
since she is the candle of the house
If she goes out the door
how dark would this house be!

A woman is apologetic to her child
sitting by the side of an empty dinner spread
O my child!  Go to sleep tonight!
Yes, go to sleep!
And I will sing you again
the song of lullabies

A woman I know
whose skirt is yellow coolerd
Crying has become her night and day
because she is painfully barren

A woman I know
whose ability to walk has gone
Her steps are all tired
Her heart, under her feet,
she screams, it's enough

A woman I know
who, a thousand times,
has fought with her inner demons
and since she is victorious in the end
has laughed ridiculously
at the evildoers’ infamy

A woman sings
A woman remains silent
A woman stays in the alley,
even at night

A woman works like a man at her job
There are blisters of pain on her hands,
She has so much agony and grief
that she has forgotten
that she carries a fetus in her womb

A woman is in her dying bed
A woman is near death
Who is going to see about her
I do not know?

One night in a small bed
a woman slowly dies
and a woman takes revenge
on an unfaithful man

Poem translation by MPD ©2013

Blog Image: An Indian artist gives final touches to a painting on street walls on International Women's Day in Hyderabad, India, Friday, March 8, 2013.

به مناسبت روز زن

شعر : زنی‌ را میشناسم
شاعر : فریبا شش بلوکی
دکلمه : اصغر توسلی
ترجمه: ام پی دی

با تشکر از سوری که ترجمهِ این شعر را برای روزِ جهانی زن پیشنهاد کرد

زني را مي شناسم من

زني را مي شناسم من
که شوق بال و پر دارد
ولي از بس که پر شور است
دو صد بيم از سفر دارد

زني را مي شناسم من
که در يک گوشه ي خانه
ميان شستن و پختن
درون آشپزخانه
سرود عشق مي خواند
نگاهش ساده و تنهاست
صدايش خسته و محزون
اميدش در ته فرداست

زني را مي شناسم من
که مي گويد پشيمان است
چرا دل را به او بسته
کجا او لايق آنست

زني هم زير لب گويد
گريزانم از اين خانه
ولي از خود چنين پرسد
چه کس موهاي طفلم را
پس از من مي زند شانه؟

زني آبستن درد است
زني نوزاد غم دارد
زني مي گريد و گويد
به سينه شير کم دارد

زني با تار تنهايي
لباس تور مي بافد
زني در کنج تاريکي
نماز نور مي خواند

زني خو کرده با زنجير
زني مانوس با زندان
تمام سهم او اينست
نگاه سرد زندانبان

زني را مي شناسم من
که مي ميرد ز يک تحقير
ولي آواز مي خواند
که اين است بازي تقدير

زني با فقر مي سازد
زني با اشک مي خوابد
زني با حسرت و حيرت
گناهش را نمي داند

زني واريس پايش را
زني درد نهانش را
ز مردم مي کند مخفي
که يک باره نگويندش
چه بد بختي چه بد بختي

زني را مي شناسم من
که شعرش بوي غم دارد
ولي مي خندد و گويد
که دنيا پيچ و خم دارد

زني را مي شناسم من
که هر شب کودکانش را
به شعر و قصه مي خواند
اگر چه درد جانکاهي
درون سينه اش دارد

زني مي ترسد از رفتن
که او شمعي ست در خانه
اگر بيرون رود از در
چه تاريک است اين خانه

زني شرمنده از کودک
کنار سفره ي خالي
که اي طفلم بخواب امشب
بخواب آري
و من تکرار خواهم کرد
سرود لايي لالايي

زني را مي شناسم من
که رنگ دامنش زرد است
شب و روزش شده گريه
که او نازاي پردرد است

زني را مي شناسم من
که ناي رفتنش رفته
قدم هايش همه خسته
دلش در زير پاهايش
زند فرياد که بسه

زني را مي شناسم من
که با شيطان نفس خود
هزاران بار جنگيده
و چون فاتح شده آخر
به بدنامي بد کاران
تمسخر وار خنديده

زني آواز مي خواند
زني خاموش مي ماند
زني حتي شبانگاهان
ميان کوچه مي ماند

زني در کار چون مرد است
به دستش تاول درد است
ز بس که رنج و غم دارد
فراموشش شده ديگر
جنيني در شکم دارد

زني در بستر مرگ است
زني نزديکي مرگ است
سراغش را که مي گيرد
نمي دانم؟

شبي در بستري کوچک
زني آهسته مي ميرد
زني هم انتقامش را
ز مردي هرزه مي گيرد