Nima Yooshij
Nima Yooshij Poems
The moon beams
the glowworm glows
sleep is seldom ruined, but
worry over this heedless lot
...
Hey, you over there
who are sitting on the shore, happy and laughing,
someone is dying in the water,
someone is constantly struggling
...
Yellow hasn't become red for no reason
the red hasn't cast its colour
upon the wall for no reason.
...
A night of deep darkness.
On a branch of the old fig tree
A frog croaks without cease,
Predicting a storm, a deluge,
...
In the cold winter night
The furnace of the sun too
Burns not like the hot hearth of my lamp,
And no lamp is luminous as mine
...
Along the riverbank wanders the old turtle
the day's a sunny day.
The rice-paddy scene is warm.
...
My House is Cloudy
the entire earth is cloudy.
Above the narrow pass, the shattered and desolate and drunken
...
The candle burns, beside the curtain set,
So far this woman hasn't slept yet;
Over the cradle she leans (alone),
O wretched one, O wretched one.
...
I wonder what tumult is racking the silence of this jungle
That breeds a hundred songs of joy and sorrow in the heart;
I wonder what magic lies within the depth of jungles
That helps the jungle witch to ensnare man.
...
Surviving from very distant nights
At a silent path towards the jungle
A little stove made of stone,
Contains some cold ashes.
...
The candle burns, beside the curtain set,
So far this woman hasn't slept yet;
Over the cradle she leans (alone),
O wretched one, O wretched one.
A few rags form the curtain of the spouse
To protect the house.
For two days no food she has tasted,
With two kids, she hasn't rested;
One is ten, she is sleeping,
The other is awake and wailing.
She cries for her mother's milk which is small
This is another woe, (it is dismal).
The neighbor's child wears well,
She has her sports and eats well.
What difference is between these (I'm grieved)
What the other owns this one is bereaved.
A soldier's child dressed in rags (and gall)
Why must she live at all?
All she sees is but asperity
What she reads, breathes adversity;
Her back is bending, with all the load,
Her eyesight is dim in this abode;
Thus she labors like a man;
Thus she toils, the woman.
...
I wonder what tumult is racking the silence of this jungle
That breeds a hundred songs of joy and sorrow in the heart;
I wonder what magic lies within the depth of jungles
That helps the jungle witch to ensnare man.
When the autumn morning sun rises,
The jungle gets so brightly lit
That it occurs to you
That each golden leaf is a candle flame
Burning in the jungle's heart.
Which knight must bring the happy tidings of victory
For whom the jungle is adorned with lights?
When the incense-spreading gale scatters
A thousand gold coins over the jungle,
I wonder what the silent butterfly thinks
And by what melody the jungle love-bird
Sings the luring song of dropping leaves?
I like the jungle,
Because like the souls of us folks
It is full of mysterious and colorful lights and shadows.
I like the jungle,
Because a lively jungle is beautiful
And even at death it refreshes the world.
May the mirth breading jungle live long!
...
Surviving from very distant nights
At a silent path towards the jungle
A little stove made of stone,
Contains some cold ashes.
Like my melancholy thoughts buried in the dust,
Bearing sketches of everything,
A tale whose fruit is but pain.
My sweet day that agreed with me
Has become an incongruous sketch,
It has grown cold and turned into stone
And the autumnal breathe of my life, turns yellow the spring's face.
Still surviving from very distant nights
At a silent path towards the jungle
A little stove made of stone,
Contains some cold ashes.
...
Nima Yooshij Biography
Nimā Yushij (November 12, 1896 – January 6, 1960) also called Nimā, born Ali Esfandiāri, was a contemporary Tabarian and Persian poet who started the she’r-e now ("new poetry") also known as she’r-e nimaa'i ("Nimaic poetry") trend in Iran. He is considered as the father of modern Persian poetry. He died of pneumonia in Shemiran, in the northern part of Tehran and was buried in his native village of Yush, Nur County, Mazandaran, as he had willed. He was the eldest son of Ibrahim Nuri of Yush (a village in Nur County, Mazandaran province of Iran). He was a Tabarian but had also Georgian roots. He grew up in Yush, mostly helping his father with the farm and taking care of the cattle. As a boy, he visited many local summer and winter camps and mingled with shepherds and itinerant workers. Images of life around the campfire, especially those emerging from the shepherds' simple and entertaining stories about village and tribal conflicts, impressed him greatly. These images, etched in the young poet's memory waited until his power of diction developed sufficiently to release them. Nima's early education took place in a maktab. He was a truant student and the mullah (teacher) often had to seek him out in the streets, drag him to school, and punish him. At the age of twelve, Nima was taken to Tehran and registered at the St. Louis School. The atmosphere at the Roman Catholic school did not change Nima's ways, but the instructions of a thoughtful teacher did. Nezam Vafa, a major poet himself, took the budding poet under his wing and nurtured his poetic talent. Instruction at the Catholic school was in direct contrast to instruction at the maktab. Similarly, living among the urban people was at variance with life among the tribal and rural peoples of the north. In addition, both these lifestyles differed greatly from the description of the lifestyle about which he read in his books or listened to in class. Although it did not change his attachment to tradition, the difference set fire to young Nima's imagination. In other words, even though Nima continued to write poetry in the tradition of Saadi and Hafez for quite some time his expression was being affected gradually and steadily. Eventually, the impact of the new overpowered the tenacity of tradition and led Nima down a new path. Consequently, Nima began to replace the familiar devices that he felt were impeding the free flow of ideas with innovative, even though less familiar devices that enhanced a free flow of concepts. "Ay Shab" (O Night) and "Afsaneh" (Myth) belong to this transitional period in the poet's life (1922).)
The Best Poem Of Nima Yooshij
Moonlight
The moon beams
the glowworm glows
sleep is seldom ruined, but
worry over this heedless lot
ruins sleep in my tearful eyes.
Dawn stands worried at my side
morning urges me to announce
its arrival to the lot.
alas! a thorn inside,
stops me in my tracks.
A delicate rose stem
which I planted with my hands
and watered with my life
its thorns break inside me.
I fumble about to open a door
uselessly expecting someone to meet
a jumble of walls and doors
crumbles over my head.
The moon beams
the glow-worm glows
blisters marking a distant road
Standing before the village
a single man
knapsack on his back, hand on the knocker, murmurs
'Worry over this lot
ruins sleep in my tearful eyes.'
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