این ترجمه را با غلامرضا زارعی - استاد کنونی دانشگاه اصفهان و دکتر در زبانشناسی - سالها پیش که هر دو در دانشگاه شیراز دانشجوی لیسانس بودیم به سامان رساندیم. ابتدا من ترجمه ای فراهم آوردم و بعد با هم آن را ویراستیم. یکی دو سال پیش آن را در ورق پاره های جوانی دیدم و کمی دستکاری کردم. برای اینکه از خاطره ها نرود در اینجا منتشرش می کنم. ویرایش نهایی را - که حتما" هم لازم است - به زمانی دیگر وامی نهم. البه می دانید که شعر اخوان به دلیل آمیختگی شدید با وزن و آکندگی از تصاویر بدیع جزو ترجمه ناپذیرترین شعرهای معاصر است برخلاف شعرهای سهراب و فروغ یا سید علی صالحی مثلا" که راحت تر به انگلیسی برمی گردند.. دکتر احمد کریمی حکاک هم به همین دلیل شعرهای کمی از اخوان را در
An Anthology of Modern Persian Poetry
ترجمه کرده است بر خلاف فروغ که فصل بلندی به او اختصاص دارد.
باری اینجا هم فایل صوتی شعر در دو قسمت:
http://greenpoems.awardspace.com/Akhavan/m14sher.htm
سلامت را نمی خواهند پاسخ گفت
سرها در گریبان است
کسی سر بر نیارد کرد پاسخ گفتن و دیدار یاران را
نگه جز پیش پا را دید ، نتواند
که ره تاریک و لغزان است
وگر دست محبت سوی کسی یازی
به اکراه آورد دست از بغل بیرون
که سرما سخت سوزان است
نفس ، کز گرمگاه سینه می اید برون ، ابری شود تاریک
چو دیوار ایستد در پیش چشمانت .
نفس کاین است ، پس دیگر چه داری چشم
ز چشم دوستان دور یا نزدیک ؟
مسیحای جوانمرد من ! ای ترسای پیر پیرهن چرکین
هوا بس ناجوانمردانه سرد است ... ای
دمت گرم و سرت خوش باد
سلامم را تو پاسخ گوی ، در بگشای
منم من ، میهمان هر شبت ، لولی وش مغموم
منم من ، سنگ تیپاخورده ی رنجور
منم ، دشنام پست آفرینش ، نغمه ی ناجور
نه از رومم ، نه از زنگم ، همان بیرنگ بیرنگم
بیا بگشای در ، بگشای ، دلتنگم
حریفا ! میزبانا ! میهمان سال و ماهت پشت در چون موج می لرزد
تگرگی نیست ، مرگی نیست
صدایی گر شنیدی ، صحبت سرما و دندان است
من امشب آمدستم وام بگزارم
حسابت را کنار جام بگذارم
چه می گویی که بیگه شد ، سحر شد ، بامداد آمد ؟
فریبت می دهد ، بر آسمان این سرخی بعد از سحرگه نیست
حریفا ! گوش سرما برده است این ، یادگار سیلی سرد زمستان است
و قندیل سپهر تنگ میدان ، مرده یا زنده
به تابوت ستبر ظلمت نه توی مرگ اندود ، پنهان است
حریفا ! رو چراغ باده را بفروز ، شب با روز یکسان است
سلامت را نمی خواهند پاسخ گفت
هوا دلگیر ، درها بسته ، سرها در گریبان ، دستها پنهان
نفسها ابر ، دلها خسته و غمگین
درختان اسکلتهای بلور آجین
زمین دلمرده ، سقف آسمان کوتاه
غبار آلوده مهر و ماه
زمستان است
WINTER
Mehdi Akhavan Saales
Translated by:
Davood Khazaie
Gholam Reza Zarei
Not willing are they to greet you, to say hello
Heads are thrust in collars,
No one dares to raise his head,
To reply and meet his friends,
Eyes can see one’s steps, no more,
The road is slippery and dark, be sure.
And if you stretch out your affectionate hand,
Reluctantly they will stretch out theirs from their side;
For the cold is nipping and wide.
Breath, coming out of warm chamber of breast, is a dark cloud,
And stands before your eyes like a shroud.
Now that breath is so dark and morose,
In vain is your expectation from friends, distant or close.
O, my brave Messiah,
O, the old Christian in the sullied robe,
The weather is so cruelly cold.
May your breath be lively!
And yourself be merry and sprightly!
Return my greeting, open the door mildly!
It is me, me.
Your every night’s guest, grievous and drunken-like.
It is me, the afflicted kicked stone,
It is me, the mean curse of creation, the unpleasant tone.
I am neither white nor black,
But true, of no color.
Come! Open the door! Open!
I am heavy-hearted.
O partner, O host,
Your monthly and yearly guest,
Is trembling like a wave, behind the door with no rest.
No hail, no death,
If a sound you are hearing,
It is the teeth and cold chattering.
Tonight I am here to pay my debt,
To put your sum beside the goblet.
Why are you telling it is ill-timed, dawn is here, here is sunrise?
You are being cheated.
It is not the rosy-hue in the sky after dawn.
O partner!
It is the frost-bitten ear,
The keepsake of winter’s cold slap on the ear,
And the narrow-scope sky candle, dead or alive, is hidden,
In nine-fold, death-plated, sturdy darkness coffin.
O, partner!
The fire of wine, inflame!
Cause day and night are the same.
Not willing are they to greet you, to say hello
Stuffy is the air,
Closed are the doors,
Drooped are the heads,
Hidden are the hands,
Clouds are the breaths,
Heavy and tired are the hearts,
Crystalline skeletons are the trees,
Desperate is the earth,
Low is the sky-ceiling.
Dusty are the moon and the Sol,
It is winter.
این هم ترجمه ای دیگر که امروز دیدم. مقایسه با شما
Winter
. Your greetings they'll ignore
, With their heads resting on their chests
, They seek warmth from their breasts
. None affords to lift a head to greet the guests
, Vision is limited
. The road's dark and slick
, Your extended friendly hand is refused
; Not because they are confused
. They rather keep their hands where they are warmed
. It is frightfully cold. Do not be alarmed
, Observe your breath
; Leaving the warmth of your breast
Turns into a dark cloud
Before it rests
. On the wall before your chest
, If your breath is this unkind
What is amiss; if
, Distant and near friends
? Were to keep you out of mind
, My manly Messiah
! Uncompromising man of faith
, Winter is cowardly and cold
, You keep the words warm
. Sustain that stance bold
. Accept my greetings
. Let me in
: Your nightly guest
, The pedestrian rock
, The curse of creation
. The uneven melody
. Allow this pest, a moment of rest
. I am not from Rome or Africa
, Allow the Africans the south
. North, the Romans
, Colorblind I am
.Enough for both
! Let me in
! Let my sorrow in
, Be a good host
, To your ever-present guest
. Who shivers behind your door
. Have mercy on the poor
.There is no hail
,You may have heard a tale
,There exists no death
.Only chattering teeth and a short breath
Tonight I intend to pay back
The account for which I lack
It is not too late
It is not midnight
There is no morning
.Don't be fooled by the dawn's false trap
My frozen red ears
. Bespeak winter's harsh slap
And your universal sun
, At the mercy of each breath
Rather than your coffin
.Brightens the hidden cave of death
,Dear friend, with wine
; Illumine the sight
Night is day
. Day is night
They'll ignore your greeting
Amid this depressing weather
Doors are shut
Heads on chests
, Hands hidden
. Hopes are cruelly cut
Trees are but
, Crystalline skeletons
; The sky's moved closer
, The land is devoid of life
Dimmed are the sun and the moon
.Winter is rife
Translated by Iraj Bashiri
http://www.angelfire.com/rnb/bashiri/Poets/Saless.html
این هم ترجمه ای دیگر
Winter
They are not going to answer your greeting
Their heads are in their collars
Nobody is going to raise his head
To answer a question or to see a friend
The eyes cannot see beyond the feet
The road is dark and slick
If you stretch a friendly hand towards anybody
He hardly brings his hand out of his pocket
For the cold is so bitter
The breath coming out of your chest
Turns into a dark cloud
And stands like a wall in front of your eyes
While your own breath is like this
What do you expect from your distant or close friends?
My gentle Messiah, O, dirty dressed monk
The weather is so ungently cold
You be warm and happy
You answer my greeting and open the door
;It is me, your nightly guest, an unhappy gypsy
It is me, a kicked up, afflicted stone
.It is me, a low insult of creation, an untuned melody
I am neither white nor black
I am colorless
Come and open the door, see how cheerless I am
O, my dear host, your nightly guest is shivering outside
;There is no hail outside, no death
.If you hear any sound, it is the sound of cold and teeth
What are you saying, that
?It is too late, it is dawn, it is day
What you see on the sky
Is not the redness after dawn
It is the result of the winter's slap
On the sky's cheeks
O, partner go and get the wine ready
Days and nights are the same
They are not going to answer your greeting
,The air is gloomy, doors are closed
,The heads are in collars, the hands are hidden
,The breaths are clouds, the people are tired and sad
The trees are crystallized skeletons, the earth is low-spirited
The roof of the sky is low
The sun and moon are hazy
.It is winter
Translated by Mahvash Shahegh
http://www.perlit.sailorsite.net/Mahvash/akhavan3.html
