(1928-1990)
Mehdi Akhavan Sales (M. Omid) was born in 1928, in Mashhad, Khorasan Province, he finished secondary school there. In early 1950s, he became involved in anti-governmental riots, something common in Iran of those days, and was briefly imprisoned after the fall of the government of Dr. Mohammad Mosaddeq in 1953. His first book of poems Organ was published in 1951.
Between 1959 and 1965, he joined the governmental work force and served as a high-school teacher and a grade-school principal. He also contributed to dubbing and/or narrating educational films, in addition to writing articles for newspapers and popular magazines.
In 1959, Sales published his End of the Shahname, wherein he examined some of the contemporary socio-political problems of Iran in the context of the country's own ancient myths and legends as reported by Ferdowsi. And, a year later, he created a complementary view of the same in his From This Avesta, again indirectly criticizing the government. Retaliating, the government persecuted him and his followers as anarchists. Similar activities in 1967 landed the poet in Qasr prison for a short period.
After his release, Akhavan joined the Ministry of Education as well the National Iranian Radio and Television Organization. He died in 1990 in Tehran. His tomb is in Tous near Mashhad, near Ferdowsi's grave.
The critics consider Mehdi Akhavan Sales as one of the best contemporary Persian poets. He is one of the pioneers of Free Verse (New Style Poetry) in Persian literature, particularly of modern style epics. It was his ambition, for a long time, to introduce a fresh style in the Persian poetry.
The Moment of Visiting
The moment of visiting is near.
Once more, I am a lunatic and a drunk.
Once more, my heart and my hand are shaking
Once more, I am in another world.
Oh razor, do not scratch my face, so careless!
Oh hand, do not mess up the straight of my hair!
And do not embarrass me, my heart!
The moment of visiting is near.
Ancient Land
From all meaningless earthly possessions, if I acclaim
Thee oh ancient land, I adore
Thee oh ancient eternal great
If I adore any, thee I adore
Thee oh priceless ancient Iran
Thee oh valuable jewel, I adore
Thee ancient birthplace of the great nobles
Thee famous creator of the greats, I adore
Thine art and thoughts shines through the world
Both thine art and thine thoughts I adore
May it be legend or history
Critics and ancient stories, all I adore
Thine fantasy, I worship as truth
Thine reality, as news I adore
Thine Ahuramazda and Yazatas, I revere
Thine glory and Faravahar, I adore
To thine ancient prophet, I take an oath
Who is a bright and wise sage, I adore
The noble Zarathustra, more so than
All other sages and prophets, I adore
Humanity better than him has not seen and will not see
This noblest of humanity I adore
His trios are the greatest guide for the world
This impactful yet brief guide, I adore
This great Iranian was a leader
This Iranian leader I adore
He Never killed, nor asked others to kill
This noble path I adore
This truthful ancient sage
Who went beyond the legend, I adore
The eternal intellect of the glorious Mazdak
From all angles and aspects, I adore
He died bravely in the war with injustice
That just lion-heart I adore
Global and just thoughts he had
More of his thoughts in our path I adore
Praising thine great Mani
The artist and messenger I adore
That painter of the higher spirits
The truth of his paintings I adore
All types of your fertile lands
All your fields, deserts, springs and rivers I adore
Thine brave and noble martyrs
Who were prides of the humanity, I adore
With the help of the morning breeze, their spirits
Made of Iron, I sense and I adore
Their exciting thoughts which had turned the centuries
Upside down I adore
Their works of experience and messages
Or maybe a few lines of news I adore
Those legendary noblemen of
Just a few in each century, I adore
All thine poets and poems
Same as the morning breeze I adore
Thine Ferdowsi, the legendary literary tower he erected
placed in the hall of fame and glory, I adore
Thine Khayyam, the eternal anger and passion he created
In our hearts and souls I adore
Thine Attar, the pains and mourns he created
Takes away our breaths I adore
From that admirer of Shams, the passion
That enflames the heart, I adore
From Sa’di, Hafez and Nizami
All the cheers, poetry and fruits I adore
Great art thine Rasht, Gorgan and Mazandaran
The same as Caspian Sea I adore
Great art thine Karoun River and Ahvaz
Sweeter than sugar I adore
Glory to thine great Azerbaijan
That first step to danger I adore
Esfahan, thine half of the world
More than the other half I adore
Great art Khorasan the birthplace of the wise
With all my heart and soul, that vast land I adore
Great art thine beautiful Shiraz
The center of talent and art I adore
Thine lands of Kurdistan and Balushistan, same as
The noble fruit tree I adore
Great art thine Kerman and Southern borders
Thus dry and wet, sea and desert I adore
Afghanistan, our same roots which is a garden
In the hands of better than the best I adore
Soqd and Kharazm and their deserts
Alas Qajars had lost, but I adore
Thine Iraq and the long strips of Persian Gulf
Similar to the wall of China I adore
Our ancient Caucasia to Iran
A son in father’s house I adore
Thine yesterday’s legend and tomorrow’s dream
In each its own, both I adore
Thus better than these two, art thee alive
Thine today’s entity I adore
Thine beauty and depth were on top of the world
That ultimate value and danger I adore
Once more arise to the maximum depth
This new color and beauty I adore
Not Easternization, Not Westoxication, Not Tazi-fication
For thee O Ancient Land I adore
Until the world remains, victorious thou shalt be
Strong, awake and fortunate thou shalt be
Translations by Ahreeman X
Sources: http://www.iranchamber.com/literature/makhavansales/mehdi_akhavan_sales.php
http://iranpoliticsclub.net/poetry/ancient-land/index.htm
← Go back Next page →
