@pixienatthecat / pixienatthecat.tumblr.com
Hello I am afghan and I was just wondering if you have any short dari poems or any poems about pomegranates
Hi, yes there are many poems about Anar in Dari
ليلي زير درخت انار نشست درخت انار عاشق شد گل داد سرخ سرخ ، گل ها انار شد داغ داغ هر انار هزار تا دانه داشت دانه ها عاشق بودند دانه هاي توي انار جا نمي شدند، انار كوچك بود انار ترك برداشت خون انار روي دست ليلي چكيد خدا گفت راز رسيدن فقط همين بود كافي است انار دلت ترك بخورد.
salâm ! I'm reading a text by by Atiq Rahimi and he quotes a four couplets in Persian, from Nézâmi’s "Khosrou va Shirin". unfortunately I can't find a translation online and was hoping you might be able to help please ? only if you've got the time, but I would appreciate it. (Part 53 verse 57 is particularly confusing)
۵۳؛۴۱ شنیدم نام او شیرین از آن بود / که در گفتن عجب شیرین زبان بود
۵۳؛۵۷ ز شیرین گفتن و گفتار شیرین / شده هوش از سر فرهاد مسکین
and
۶۰؛۹۹ چو بشنید این سخنهای جگرتاب / فراز کوه کرد آن تیشه پرتاب
۶۰؛۱۰۱ از آن دسته بر آمد شوشه نار / درختی گشت و بار آورد بسیار
Salam!
Atiq Rahimi is good, isnt he? I like his writing. Ok, I will try my best, though it is a tougher one.
'It is said that her name was Shireen (sweet/dulcet) because
Her manner of speech was pure sweetness
As this sweetness poured out of Shireen
Farhad, the poor chap, became insane
As he listened to her dulcet tales
His hatchet chiseled the mountain peeks
From this erupted a prism of fire
Turning into a tree and yielding briar*
*the word by word translation would be fruit or harvest.*
Walt Whitman, “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking”, Leaves of Grass
[Text ID: “O madly the sea pushes upon the land, With love, with love.”]
Natalie Wee, Never been kissed
Rupert Brooke
A Clear Midnight by Walt Whitman
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless, Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best, Night, sleep, death and the stars.
Rupert Brooke
Heaven
Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June, Dawdling away their wat'ry noon) Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear, Each secret fishy hope or fear. Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond; But is there anything Beyond? This life cannot be All, they swear, For how unpleasant, if it were! One may not doubt that, somehow, Good Shall come of Water and of Mud; And, sure, the reverent eye must see A Purpose in Liquidity. We darkly know, by Faith we cry, The future is not Wholly Dry. Mud unto mud!--Death eddies near-- Not here the appointed End, not here! But somewhere, beyond Space and Time, Is wetter water, slimier slime! And there (they trust) there swimmeth One Who swam ere rivers were begun, Immense, of fishy form and mind, Squamous, omnipotent, and kind; And under that Almighty Fin, The littlest fish may enter in. Oh! never fly conceals a hook, Fish say, in the Eternal Brook, But more than mundane weeds are there, And mud, celestially fair; Fat caterpillars drift around, And Paradisal grubs are found; Unfading moths, immortal flies, And the worm that never dies. And in that Heaven of all their wish, There shall be no more land, say fish.
