Nima Yooshij - Works

Works

The venues in which Nima published his works are noteworthy. In the early years when the presses were controlled by the powers that be, Nima's poetry, deemed below the established norm, was not allowed publication. For this reason, many of Nima's early poems did not reach the public until the late 1930s. After the fall of Reza Shah, Nima became a member of the editorial board of the "Music" magazine. Working with Sadeq Hedayat, he published many of his poems in that magazine. Only on two occasions he published his works at his own expense: "The Pale Story" and "The Soldier's Family."

The closing of "Music" coincided with the formation of the Tudeh Party and the appearance of a number of leftist publications. Radical in nature, Nima was attracted to the new papers and published many of his groundbreaking compositions in them.

Ahmad Zia Hashtroudy and Abul Ghasem Janati Atayi are among the first scholars to have worked on Nima's life and works. The former included Nima's works in an anthology entitled "Contemporary Writers and Poets" (1923). The selections presented were: "Afsaneh," (Myth) "Ay Shab" (O Night), "Mahbass" (Prison), and four short stories.

The Boat
My face is withered
My boat is stranded.

With my stranded bark I cry:
“I am stranded in sorrow
In this dangerous seashore
And the water is far away
“Help, O friends!”
A smile of derision breaks upon their lips
But directed at me
At my askew boat
At my tumultuous words
At my infinite perturbation
At my infinite perturbation
Suddenly a cry issues from me:
I fear but danger and annihilation
The commotion of `to be or not to be'
It is but for endangered life.”
With their mistake
I buy mistakes
From their disheartening words
I suffer
Blood spurts out of my wound
How can I dry the water?
I cry.
My face is withered
My boat is stranded
My words are clear to you:

One person is alone
I extend my hand to you for help

My voice is broken in my throat
And if voice is voluble
I cry
For your salvation and mine
I cry!

My house is Cloudy

My house is overcast by clouds
Permanently weighed by a pall of cloud over the earth.
The wind, broken, desolate and intoxicated,
Whirls over the pass.
The world is laid waste by it
And my senses too!
O piper!
O you enchanted by the music of the pipe, where are you?

My house is cloudy, yet
The cloud is impregnated by rain.

Cherished by the illusion of my bright days,

I stand opposite the sun
I cast my gaze upon the sea.
And the entire world is desolated and ravaged by the wind
And the ever-playing piper progresses onto his path
In this cloudy world.

(Translated by Ismail Salami)

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