Translated from the Persian by Mahmud Kianush
Cold Ashes
From nights long gone
Round a handful of cold ashes,
Once a small fire,
A few stones are still left
On a peaceful path through the forest.
Like the woeful trace of an image
In the dust of my thoughts,
Every line of it a story of long sufferings.
My sweet day that was at peace with me,
Has changed to some sinister image,
Something cold and solid like a stone;
The breath of the autumn of my life,
An allusion to my fading spring:
Round a handful of cold ashes,
Once a small fire,
A few stones are still left
On a peaceful path through the forest
From nights long gone.
O People!
O people who are sitting, cheerful and laughing,
on the shore,
Someone is losing his life in the sea;
Someone is struggling in the rough, dark
and formidable sea.
Just when you are intoxicated with the thought
of conquering your enemies;
When you are deluding yourselves
that by helping one poor man you are building
prosperity for all;
When you are girding up your loins
for some endeavor;
Of what other concerns of yours should I speak?
Yes, all this while someone’s life
is being needlessly sacrificed in the sea.
O people who have an exhilarating time on the shore:
Your tables bountiful, your bodies well clothed,
Someone in the sea is calling you for help,
He is buffeting the heavy waves
with his exhausted hands;
He is gasping for breath,
his eyes bulging out of their sockets in terror;
Water has filled his inside in the dark deep,
And in his growing distress
Out of the water he thrusts
Now his head, now his feet,
O people!
He tries not to lose sight
of this old world from far away,
And with the hope of some help he cries out;
O people, who are enjoying the view
from the peaceful shore!
Waves rush in, pounding on the silent shore,
toppling like drunken men,
lying sprawled out, unconscious,
And then, roaring, they retreat into the sea.
Again the same cry comes from far away:
“O people….”
And the wind has a more tormenting sound
And the cry of the man in the sea
is spreading out in the sound of the wind,
And from the midst of the water,
close and distant,
Again this cry echoes:
“O people….”