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Fereshteh Sari
Poeta, escritora y traductora
Nacida en 1956, Teherán, Irán
Licenciatura en Ciencias de la Computación, Universidad de Teherán
Licenciada en Lengua y Literatura Rusa por la Universidad de Teherán
OBRAS:
Poemas
Echo of Silence
Collection of Modern Poems/First edition 1987/Second edition 1989/Cheshmeh Pub./ Persian Language/
Frames Without Portrait
Collection of Modern Poems/Cheshmeh Pub./1989/Persian Language/
The Figure in the Wind
Collection of Modern Poems/Gardoun Pub./1991/Persian Language/
Republic of Winter
Collection of Modern Poems/Cheshmeh Pub./1993/Persian Language/
Days and Letters
Collection of Modern Poems/Cheshmeh Pub./2002/Winner of Parvin Estesami Prize/Persian Language/
Novelas
Morvarid Khatoun
Sociably, destiny Novel/First Edition 1990/Second Edition 1998/Elm Pub./Persian Language/
Azure Island
Modern, subjective Novel/Gardoun Pub./1991/Persian Language/
Tomb of Lovers
Modern, technical, amorously Novel/First Edition Morqeh Amin Pub., 1995/Second Edition Elm Pub., 2000/Elm Pub./Persian Language/
Mitra
Modern, technical Novel/Elm Pub./1999/Persian Language/
The Aroma of Fennel
Modern, sociably, loving Novel/Elm Pub./2000/Persian Language/
Parissa
Modern, loving Novel/Qoqnous Pub./2004/Persian Language/
Historia:
Portray of Donya
Collection of modern Short Stories/Ofoq Pub./2002/ Persian Language/
Grito de júbilo
Yo he compuesto mi largo poema, de una vez
y ahora yo lo esparzo pedazo por pedazo desde un alto techo
No estés enojado conmigo
Si una pieza vaga cae en tu casa.
Recoge sus fragmentos y una vez más espárcelos
verás después
Como una vaga golondrina
dará un grito de júbilo
Selección de Poesía Contemporánea iraní
Traducción de Fariba Gurguin
To Wither or to Blossom
- My silver faced girl
of my restless country!
who are you that the tooth of greed
is scratching on the veins of your arms
and plundering
your silver body.
- My eyes, endless black wells,
and my lips are rosy red
with the same fate
- to wither or to blossom -
my body spreads the perfume of earth
and my arms spreads the perfume of labor.
? - My daughter who has known the taste of being awake,
why are you so restless
like the fish in the net.
- This is a dance between death and life;
the hunter
is awaiting to lay my body into earth;
the sea
has opened her arms to take me to her embrace.
The sea,
the embrace,
the hunter,
the dagger.
I,
all the gaze;
on a living and fighting heart
deprived of its body
beats blood on the earth.
Translated to English by M. Alexandrian