ترجمه‌ی شعر «برف» اخوان‌ثالث به انگلیسی

وازنا مهر ۲۶, ۱۳۹۰

علیرضا آبیز
آن‌چه در می‌آید ترجمه‌ی شعر «برف» زنده‌یاد مهدی اخوان‌ثالث است که آقای علیرضا آبیز آن را به انگلیسی برگردانده‌اند و برای انتشار در «جشن‌واره‌ی بزرگ شعر جهان» در اختیار وازنا گذاشته‌اند. برای خواندن این شعر به زبان فارسی این‌جا را کلیک نمایید.
 
 

 
 
Snow
 
 
1.
A quarter of the night was gone
And the snow was falling like the scattering feathers of the fairies
In the thousands of legends and tales long forgotten
Like an invisible commander,
The wind was crazily ruling orders
On a tired and sad and bewildered army
 
 
The snow was falling and we were silent
- Devoid of any worries-
Treading our way step by step
A quiet garden alley spreading before our feet
 
 
It seemed as if in every few steps
A light was on for us on a cypress tree
With a pale and dim flicker
Lost in the darkness of this winter snow
 
 
The snow was falling and we were walking
Slowly, sometimes alone, sometimes together
What sorrowful complaints we brought
What sweet stories we retold!
 
 
None of us knew
On what moment of the night this snow has begun
Nor did anyone knew
Where this turning and curling road was dragging us
 
 
The snow was falling and people had gone
On this road before us, under this quiet snow
People like us, happy and unhappy,
They had gone and their footprints could be seen
 
 
2.
A quarter of the night was gone and our countless companions
Were walking silently under this sad and messy snow,
Sometimes joyful and happy and bold,
Sometimes as if frightened by the abyss of a hidden fear,
Looking for footprints
And telling the legends of the steps
Who had trodden this way before
 
 
Like a fatling wolf cub, free and at large,
I was running here and there
Singing heartily a happy song in each step
Saluting joyfully this divine kingly blessing
That was falling on every head and in every direction
 
It was all road and the road- this lying whore- this twin of the man’s foot since the first day
It was all snow and snow- this turbulent messenger- this cold message of pureness and of age;
And the quiet peaceful silence,
Endless and melancholic
 
We were walking and from time to time,
I was asking myself:
” Hey, let me see! You the drunk, the intoxicated!
Is this you? – So joyful and merry?
Moving in this long and fearful journey?”
[And it was me, so infatigable,
Vigil in eyes and aware in heart,
Leaning against the wall of silence,
All ears to hear the mildest sound,
Walking happily, blissfully over the moon!
 
 
3.
Now we were passing under a lamp with a watery light
Everything pale and dead in soul – near or far-
And at this time I noticed a sad stork sitting on a hunchback tree
The tree loaded with snow
With no friend and no companion but snow
Left behind the emigrating caravan
The stork was talking to itself:
 
” A horrifying wilderness this is
And the silent gray is snowing and snowing
And then old quiet silence brings no message
Behind those invisible faraway lands
There may be heat and light and music;
There may a familiar warm wing;
But me, alas!
I am but a very lonely old bird –left behind
My inabilities a chain on my legs
And if I open arms to the wind, hardly but zealously,
The will of my wings cannot turn any wheel,
Like the broken wheel of an old and deserted windmill
 
The sky is tight with no window
On earth, the snow has covered the traces of caravans
Who have gone in the wilderness to unknown lands
The wind is like a rain of needles, water is like iron
All signs are sunk in the no-sign
 
I remember the bountiful days of youth
And the joy of pioneering in flight
Which was so elegant and so sweet!
No one could forerun me
Never did I follow others
Needless of the humility of obeying rules and rituals
The road was what I would take
The rituals were what I would do
Now, but , alas!
Oh, the heavy dark and cruel night…”
The sad stork had opened its heart to its own privacy.
 
We were still on the way and it was snowing
Whoever could see in front of him
Was looking for a footprint
But me, I had lost my joy and my merriness
My youthfulness was hurt by a cold contemplation
Ashamed of the footprint I treaded,
I would tell myself every now and then:
” When will you separate your way from these flocks whose leader is the goat?
When will you send your courage to forerun like a flag
And to leave footprints of his own
On the roads not trodden before?
 
 
 
4.
It was still snowing, sad and gloomy
But I was happy once again.
Now I was away from the goats and the sheep
I was myself the herd and the shepherd
On the vast empty snow-covered plains
I was advancing slowly and joyfully alone
Carrying my own flag
 
The pure and virgin snows
Gave a pleasant melody under my feet
In every step, my foot was planting the seed of its virgin trace
On the snow
To deflower the treasures of mystery,
To imprint a new design of oneself in every step,
What a Godly pride it brought to my heart!
 
 
 
5.
I don’t remember well
How far I had gone,
When I heard a cry
Or I just had the desire
To look backward and thus I did
The trodden way was now laying before my eyes
A vast snow-covered plain had been my way
My feet had added my trace thereon
 
I turned back a few steps, it was snowing
I turned back, it was snowing
The footprints were fresh but it was snowing
I turned back, it was snowing
The footprints could be seen but it was snowing
I turned back, it was snowing
The footprints could still be seen but it was snowing
I turned back, it was snowing
It was snowing
It was snowing, snowing, snowing,..
 
Snow has covered my footprints too.
 
 
Tehran, March- April 1958

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