Ahmad Shamlou
Iran's most celebrated contemporary poet
Ahmad Shamlou
Ahmad Shamlou was born on December 12, 1925, in Tehran to a family that was to move around Iran because of the duties of his father, who was an army officer. Therefore he received his primary education from the schools around Iran. In 1938 Shamlou left high school to enrol in the technical College of Tehran.
In 1942 His father took him to the north of Iran which was occupied by the Soviet Army. Shamlou was arrested by the Red Army for his political ideas and is sent to Rasht. He was released from jail in 1945 and left with his family for Azarbaijan. The separatists arrest him and his father for a short time. They were sent back to Tehran. Shamlou decided to leave school for good.
He married for the first time in 1947, and in this year he released his first collection of poems: The Forgotten Songs.
In 1948 he started to write in a literary monthly called "Sokhan". Two years later his first short story was published: "The Woman Behind the Brass Door".
Second collection of poems: Manifesto, was published in 1951. He showed clear inclinations toward " Socialist ideology.
In 1952, he got a job in the Hungarian embassy as their Cultural Advisor. An in this year he third collection of poems, Metals and Sense, was banned and destroyed by the police. His translations of Gold in Dirt, by Sigmud Motritz and the voluminous novel. The Sons of a Man Whose Heart Was Made of Stone, by Morio Kai, together with all data gathered for his work on the colloquial culture of urban Iranian life (to be known as the Book of Streets) were also confiscated and destroyed. He escaped and went into hiding. Two years later he was arrested and kept in jail for 14 months.
He was freed in 1955. His four new collections of poems were taken and lost by a publisher. In 1956 He became the editor-in-chief of "Bamshad" literary magazine. He was separated from his wife after having two sons and one daughter.
He released his masterpiece in 1957, The Fresh Air, a collection of poems that would influence Persian poetry profoundly. He also published a few studies on classic Iranian poetry. And he married for a second time.
His translation of Barefoot, a novel by Zaharia Stancu, was released, establishing Shamlou's authority as a translator. And in 1959 He began publishing short stories for children, as well as directing documentary films and working for film studios.
A new collection of his poems, the Garden of Mirrors, was released in 1960. And in 1961 he suffers a bitter separation from his second wife. He became editor-in-chief of "Ketab-e-Hafte", a magazine which changed the tradition and language of literary journalism in Iran.
He met Ayda in 1962, beginning a loving relationship that had lasted until his death. His translations of Andre Gide and Robert Merl were published.
Shamlou and Ayda were married in 1964. Two collection of his poetry are published: 'Ayda in Mirror' and 'Moment and Eternity'.
In 1965 new collections of poems were released: Ayda, Trees, Memories and the Dagger. He had a new translation published. He also began his third attempt to compile The Book of Streets. Another new collection of poem is published in 1966: Qoqnus in the Rain. The Ministry of Information banned his literary magazine.
He became editor-in-chief of "Khushe" in 1967. His new translation of Erskine Caldwell was published. He participated in the formation of the Union of Iranian Writers and gave several poetry readings at Iranian universities.
In 1968 he began his study of Hafiz, the classical grand poet of the Persian Language. He translated Garcial Lorca's poems and the Song of Solomon from the Old Testament, and organized a week of poetry reading for established and new Iranian poets, which was very well received. The poems debuted at this event appear in a voluminous book edited by Shamlou.
The police closed down his weekly magazine in 1969. Of Air and Mirrors, a selection of older poetry, was published, together with his collection of new poems, Odes for the Earth.
In 1970 New collection: Blossoming in Mist. He directed a few documentary films for television and published several short stories for children. And he redid some of his earlier translations. His mother died in 1971.
He taught Persian literature at Tehran University in 1972. Several audiocassettes were released of Shamlou reciting other classical and modern poet's work. He obtained membership in the Iranian Academy of Language. He published several new translations and wrote a few film scripts. He travelled to Paris for medical treatment. In 1973, two new collections, Abraham in "Fire and Doors" and "The Great China Wall", were released, along with several new translations. An two years later in 1975 he published his work and study of Hafez.
He travelled to the United States in 1976 and gave poetry reading in many cities. He participated in the San Francisco Poetry Festival before returning to Iran.
In 1977 New poem: "Dagger on the Plate". He left Iran in protest of the Shah's regime and stayed in the United States for a year, giving lectures in American Universities. But he left the United States for Britain in 1978 to act as the editor-in-chief for a new publication called "Iranshahr"; resigned after 12 issues and returned to Iran just after the advent of the Revolution; rejoined the Union of Iranian Writer, began publishing a new periodical, "Ketab-e-Jom'e" to great success. This year was a very active year in his life, as he published many poems and translations, as well as giving numerous lectures and readings. He was also elected to membership of the Writer's Union's leadership. He was at this point considered the finest Iranian poet.
1979 was another year of intensive activity on different fronts. The first and second volumes of the Book of Streets went to print. He was re-elected as member of Writer's Union leadership. In 1980 with the harsh political situation in Iran, he would lead a rather secluded life that would last for the next eight years, working with Ayda on the Book of Streets, as well as many other literary endeavours, including a translation of 'And Quiet Flows the Don' by Mikhail Sholokhov.
He was invited by "Interlit" in 1988, the World Literary Congress. He toured Europe giving many lectures and readings. His complete collection of poems was printed in Germany. He returned to Iran again.
In 1990 He toured the United States. Human Rights and The Fund for Free Expression presented him with their annual award. Several works were published on his poetry and his overall literary contribution. Again in 1991 he toured Europe and returned to Iran for another four years of intensive work. His work appeared in Armenian and English: 'Sacred Words' by the year 1992. And once again he went on touring but this time to Sweden giving numerous lectures and readings in 1994. And in 1995 there was a special gathering in Toronto, Canada of Iranian writers and critics to discuss Shamlou's contribution to Persian poetry. His works were published in Spanish: Aurora!
His physical condition deteriorated in 1996. He underwent several operations. And in 1997 his right foot was amputated due to severe diabetic problems.
He died on Sunday July 23, 2000, at 9 p.m.
Shamlou was prominent both as a great historical literary figure and as a major poet. He was a journalist, a playwright, a translator and a broadcaster. His historical contribution to the reformation of Persian poetry has been the subject of many books. His poetry has been translated into several languages, however it remains a relatively undiscovered treasure in the West. He was a humanist and a socially minded intellectual who has skilfully woven personal love and affection together with his social attitudes. He lived always with hope and passion for justice.
In this dead-end (July 1979)
They smell your mouth
To find out if you have told someone:
I love you!
They smell your heart!
Such a strange time it is, my dear;
And they punish Love
At thoroughfares
By flogging.
We must hide our Love in dark closets.
In this crooked dead end of a bitter cold
They keep their fire alive
By burning our songs and poems;
Do not place your life in peril by your thoughts!
Such a strange time it is, my dear!
He who knocks on your door in the middle of the night,
His mission is to break your Lamp!
We must hide our Lights in dark closets!
Behold! butchers are on guard at thoroughfares
With their bloodstained cleavers and chopping-boards;
Such a strange time it is, my dear!
They cut off the smiles from lips,
and the songs from throats!
We must hide our Emotions in dark closets!
They barbecue canaries
On a fire of jasmines and lilacs!
Such a strange time it is, my dear!
Intoxicated by victory,
Satan is enjoying a feast at our mourning table!
We must hide our God in dark closets!
Fish
I think my heart
Has never been
So warm and red:
I feel
In the worst minutes of this murderous night,
Thousands of sun-springs
Gush in my heart
Out of certitude.
I feel in every corner of this salt-marsh of despair
Thousands of fresh forests
Suddenly sprout
Out of the ground.
Oh lost certitude, you fleeting fish,
Slipping through the mirror's pools, fold by fold!
I am the lucent lagoon, lo!
Through the magic of love
Find a way towards me from the mirror's pools!
Fairies
Once upon a time,
Three Fairies sat
Naked at sunset
Under the blue dome of sky
"Boo-hoo," cried the Fairies
and their tears were like rain from Spring clouds
Their hair was as long as rope
and as dark as night
It may have been even longer than rope
and it may have been even darker than night
Before them, upon the horizon
Was a city of enslaved boys
Behind them, black and cold
sat the old fabled Castle (where they used to live)
They listened; and from the city they heard
the sounds of chains clinking
While from behind them in the castle
came the nightly moans
Hey, aren't you Fairies hungry?
Aren't you Fairies thirsty? or tired?
Why is it that you Fairies are crying?
The Fairies said nothing
and "Boo-hoo," they continued to cry
and their tears were like rain from Spring clouds
Dear Fairies, why are you crying?
You fairies must be afraid of something.
Are you worried that it may snow?
Are you scared that it may rain?
Do you fear that the wolf may come and eat you?
Or do you think that the Devil himself
is coming to eat you?
You Fairies must be afraid of something.
Why don't you come to our City?
Listen! Can't you hear the sound
of our City's chains clinking
Hey, look you Fairies!
Look how tall I am
Watch my white horse
with its honey-colored mane and it's honey-colored tail
which runs as swift as the wind
See the veins and muscles ripple hard as iron
in his legs and in his neck
Watch our horse's nose as he puts it in the air!
Our city is celebrating tonight
For the Devil's house has been overthrown
The country people are our guests tonight
Venturing from their homes
They are coming, "Dom" "Dom" "Dom"
They are drumming "Pom" "Pom" "Pom"
They are laughing, "Ha" "Ha" "Ha"
They are singing:
"The City is ours!"
"We are happy!" --- the Devil complains
"The world is ours" --- the Devil howls
"Whiteness is king! --- the Devil moans
"Darkness is ashamed" --- the Devil groans
Listen Fairies, the long night is ending
and the heavy doors of the castle are fastened.
If you can wake earlier and mount my horse
Together we can arrive in the City
If you can wake earlier and listen
you will hear the wonderful chains rattle and clink
Yes, the expensive chains
chain to chain and link by link
loosening and dropping from the people's wrists
The chains are worn out! They shatter!
If you are a Devil you will be miserable this night.
There is no place for Devils to run now
For them, the forests will be barren
For them, the jungles will be desert
It is different here in our City
Oh Fairies! You have no idea
how things have changed!
The Castle doors are open
the slave-holders and the Devils are ashamed
the slaves are being freed
The dungeons are being transformed
And now he who has been imprisoned and tortured
is given balm
The sharp straws have become soft rugs
Yes, the slaves are becoming free
So many, Free!
Free to consider revenge
With sickles and hoes
They become a flood,
a flood of slaves
a flood of anger, Whoosh!
The slaves are becoming free
So many, Free!
Free to consider revenge
With sickles and hoes
They become a roaring fire
And how beautiful are fireworks
in the heart of the night!
How wonderful the firelights!
Finally the night-fires dwindle and sunrise comes
Not much remains of the night
Now the slaves are ready to pick up torches
and beat the soul of the night with them
and finish off the Devil's darkness
They are ready; ready to bring him into courtyard,
ready to ridicule and taunt him.
It is time to take each other's hands
and dance around the loser
So, what are you crying about Fairies?
Stop your whining!
But the Fairies didn't answer
They only continued to weep
and their tears were like rain from Spring clouds
At the longest night of Winter
When we all used to sit around the Korsi (1)
eating sunflower seeds
While listening to the rain
and its sound in the gutter
Our Nanny used to tell us stories
About striped fairies
The story of a yellow Fairy and a green Fairy
The story of the patient stone
The story of a goat on the roof and
the story of the daughter of the King of the Fairies!
You are those same Fairies!!
You have come to our world!!
But here in our world
You only sad and depressed
You act like our world is empty
You act like our world is absurd
You act like our world is nothing but pain
It is true
Our world is no Fairy-tale
with secret messages and happy endings
Our world is open-ended
And like it or not
Our world has thorns
Its deserts have snakes
Whoever is a real part of our world
knows these things deeply in their
Now what was wrong with your world, Fairies?
Who told you to leave your tall sweet castle?
Why did you come to our unique but difficult world?
The Fairies said nothing
And still they wept
And their tears were like rains from Spring clouds
I patted the Fairies on their backs
I wanted to send them back to their world
But then they started to scream
They were magical and they began to fly about.
They became old, they became tears,
They became young, they became laughter,
They became master and slave,
They became fruit, they became seed,
They became both hope and despair,
They became a bad omen
These magic tricks did not affect me
I watched their games
But I was not influenced by them
Their jinxed star did not sway me
And when they saw I did not turn into a stone
by any of their sorcery, they changed
One of them became a bottle of wine
One of them became a sea of water
And one of them became a mountain
rising up into the sky
I drank the wine
I swam the sea
I climbed the mountain
There was singing and dancing
in the City beyond the mountain
"Ha-Ha-Ha" we are happy!
No more slavery! We are free!
We destroyed injustice
We held freedom as our Mecca.
Since the City stood firm,
Since the living became ours,
We'll be happy forever!
We'll be free forever!
We have achieved our goal!
We have reached our home!
This is the end of our tale!
This is the end of our jail!
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