A Star Ceases to Shine

PERSICA XVII, 2001

A STAR CEASES TO SHINE

Ehsan Yarsharter Center for Iranian Studies Columbia University

With the passing of Nader Naderpour (1929-2000) Persian literature lost an outstanding poet, a great imagist, and a superb crafter of words, as well as a literary critic of remarkable insight and courage. The two decades that followed World War II were among the most remarkable peri- ods of Persian poetry. A movement away from the traditional norms of Persian poetry had begun earlier, notably by Nima Yushij (1897-1960), but had remained isolated and lacked a conspicuous following. With the forced abdication of Reza Shah in 1941, the lifting of autocratic constraints, and the opening up of the country to a torrent of new ideas and ideologies, the movement gained momentum. Nima was recognized as the leader of the new trend in Persian poetry; and a number of gifted young poets, generally belonging to leftist political camps, championed the new mode advocated by him. He had argued that the canons of classical Persian poetry no longer responded to the changed conditions of the modern age, that the exacting rules of Persian prosody (‘aru∂) which called for adoption of a single meter in all the lines of a poem and a single rhyme in the qaÒida, the gazal, and the qe†‘a were restricting poetical expression, that the classical forms of poetry were outmoded, and that the age-old stock of poetic imagery was no longer pertinent to the poetical concerns of a modern poet. He proposed that the length of lines need not be the same throughout a poem, but different numbers of poetic feet may be used depending on the requirement of the meaning; that different but compatible me- ters may be used in a poem; that rhyme should be used only as an organizing principle; that the poet should sincerely express his own feelings and impressions rather than imi- tate those of past masters and in so doing he should use imagery that suited his purpose. These principles were employed more or less by Nima himself after the first phase of his poetry, when he had complied with the traditional patterns,1 and was followed by such poets as Tavallali, Golchin-e Gilani, and a number of younger poets including Naderpour, Farrokhzad, Shamloo, Akhavan, Moshiri, and Rahmani.

1 On Nima and a judicial critique of his theories and his poems, see Nader Naderpour, Rouzegâr-e- Now, no 125, June, 1992, pp. 51-57, and no. 126, July 1992, pp. 39-42, both in extended interviews with Sadreddin Elahi; see also, E. Yarshater, “Modern Literary Idiom”, Iran Faces the Seventies, New York, 1971. 138 EHSAN YARSHARTER

While a few poets broke away from the traditional norms with a vengeance, a more moderate new school of poetry, controversial in its early stages, but steadily gaining ground, developed which, without banning meter and rhyme altogether, afforded the poet greater freedom of expression, allowed the use of a more modern language, and was marked by images independent of classical Persian imagery. A body of “modern poetry” took shape, particularly in 1950’s and 1960’s, much of which was initially published in the Persian Marxist presses of the time as well as in the progressive journal Soxan edited by Parviz Natel-Khanlari (1913-1990). At a later stage some of the poets developed their own styles and quite a number took to free verse, shun- ning meter and rhyme, and not infrequently also grammar, logic, and even sense. The principles advocated by Nima and supported in its broad outlines by Soxan were adopted and refined by Nader Naderpour.2 In fact, Naderpour represents the perfec- tion of Nimaic poetry or what he himself has called the “Soxan School”.3 If Nima could be considered the Rudaki of the modern school of Persian poetry, I consider Naderpour its Farrokhi or Ferdowsi. Several points may be made about Naderpour at the outset. First, he took his poetry very seriously and considered it his true vocation. From about 1947 he consistently pro- duced poetry of the highest order. Ten volumes of his poetry were published from 1954 to 1996.4 His post-1995 poems have been published in various periodicals, but not yet in a daftar, as he called each collection of his poems.5 Second, his poetry is throughout brilliantly crafted. While many of his contemporaries, notably Shamloo, were attracted to various literary currents and experimented with different styles, Naderpour’s diction and his style of poetry exhibit remarkable consistancy. This does not mean, however, that his poetry has not evolved. On the con- trary, we see growing maturity in his diction and gradual perfecting of his verse forms. Early in his poetic career, he chose a stanzaic form consisting of a sequence of a number of quatrains (câr pâreh ‘foursome’) with abcb rhyme pattern as his verse form of choice. Only occasionally did he use the traditional monorhyme (e.g., in Barahneh “Naked” written in 1951 and in three gazals, the first two written in 1978, and the third in 1987). The form afforded him greater freedom of expression than would have been possible in a monorhyme. But in the course of time he gave himself greater flexibility in varying the

2 For Naderpour’s reasoned support of Nimaic principles see particularly his eloquent and perceptive Introduction to the tenth collection of his poems: Zamin o zamân,1996, pp. 24-26. 3 Rouzegâr-e-Now, no. 126, p. 44. 4 These are in the order of their appearance: Casmhâ va dasthâ “Eyes and Hands”, Tehran, 1954; Doxtar-e jâm “Daughter of the Cup”, Tehran, 1955; Se‘r-e angur “The Grape Poem”, Tehran, 1958; Sorme- ye xorsid “The Healing Kohl of the Sun”, Tehran, 1960; Giyâh o sang, na âtas “Not plants and Stones, but Fire”, Tehran, 1978; Az âsemân tâ rismân, “From the Sublime to the Ridiculous”, Tehran, 1978; Sâm-e bâzpasin “The Last Supper”, Tehran, 1978; Sobh-e doruqin, “False Dawn” (1356-1360), Paris, 1981; Xun o xâkestar, “Blood and Ashes”, Los Angeles, 1988; Zamin o zamân, “Earth and Time”, Los Angeles, 1996. Two anthologies of Naderpour’s poems were published: 1) Bargozideye as‘ar (1326-1349) “Selected Poems of Nader Naderpour (1947-1970)”, Tehran, 1972; 2) False Dawn: Persian Poems (1951-1984) by Nader Naderpour introduction and translations by Michael Craig Hillmann with an afterword by Leonardo P. Alishan, Austin, Texas, 1986. The citations from the first seven collections, except Sorme-ye xorsid, has been drawn from1972 anthology. 5 The date of “Scorpion and Clock Hand” (‘Aqrab o ‘aqrabak), the last poem in Zamin o zamân, should be read 15 January 1996, not 1995, a misprint. A STAR CEASES TO SHINE 139 number of lines in each stanza, in modifying the length of lines, in using compatible me- ters in the same poem, and in using rhyme with greater freedom, even occasionally aban- doning it — all in behalf of better expressing his meaning, as Nima had urged. He uses rhyme essentially to punctuate and organize his stanzas and to add musicality to his poems. He generally avoids radif, so common from Hafez onward. Third, his diction is invariably polished, refined, and melodious. In this respect Naderpour stands in sharp contrast with most modern Persian poets who often prefer rug- ged expressiveness to harmony of sound and felicity of diction. It should be noted that Moshiri, Behbahani, Shafii-Kadkani and, to a certain extent, Akhavan are obvious excep- tions to this tendency. His true rival in this respect is Moshiri, a poet of exceptional verve and serenity, whose poetic brilliance Naderpour acknowledged, although he considered Moshiri’s poems somewhat facile.6 Naderpour’s language is informed by the adroitness of Persian classics, but he has no constraints against the use of the vernacular. In the In- troduction to his fourth collection of poetry Sorme-ye xorsid, he boasts of using the language of his own era, of being the poet of his own time, and speaking for his own genera- tion (p. 13). But his sense of consonance and harmony of sound is such that he produces an elegant diction in which the best of classical language and the vernacular are combined in a fine, even texture. In the polished fabric of Naderpour’s language, even his mention of some unseemly sights or deeds, far from jarring the senses, fits nicely in his poetic texture. (E.g., “the steaming bucket of dung” in “A Future in the Past”, (Âyande-i dar gozasteh)7, or “droppings of its precious dogs” in “Paris and Tais” (Pâris o Tâ’is)8. Al- though the poet refers to his agonizing over conceiving and perfecting his poems (Intro- duction to Sorme-ye xorshid, pp. 10-11), his poetic gifts and verbal dexterity are such that his poems appear effortless; even his rhetorical devices are hardly noticable, as they be- come natural elements in the texture of his verse. Fourth, he is an undisputed master of innovative imagery. The core of poetic imagination is the ability to make one’s inner thoughts and sentiments palpable through concrete images. This is generally done through metaphors, consisting mostly of visual repre- sentations (e.g., ‘Rostam was “ablaze” with rage’ or ‘he “roared”), and by imparting life to objects and making them act as living beings (e.g., ‘the autumn wind “mourns” the “death” of the summer’). In both cases the appeal is to our primitive self which, unlike our intellect, does not easily grasp the abstract but well understands and is affected by concrete and sensory images. In fact the appeal of poetry, like that of all art, is, in the last analysis, to the child within us, the child who has retained his age-old animistic and mythical view of nature and things. It is easily moved when it is told of the “bare stretched hands” of a winter tree or of the wild wind “pounding its hooves into the earth”, or of a touch by the “soothing hand of love” bringing life and warmth to a deso- late heart. Naderpour’s array of fresh and potent images is all the more remarkable as he, unlike Nima, was intimately familiar with classical Persian poetry, and yet he is entirely free from the stultifying hold and profound influence of traditional imagery. His poetic outlook, on the other hand, seems to owe considerably to the French fin de siècle poets,

6 Rouzegâr-e-Now, no. 137, July 1993, p. 49. 7 Xun o xâkestar, p. 55. 8 Sobh-e doruqin, p. 146. 140 EHSAN YARSHARTER such as Verlaine, Baudelaire, and Rimbaud and some other Symbolists, whose works he studied while in France. I may mention in passing that Naderpour was, like Simin Behbahani, also a great prose stylist. In my opinion, his eloquent, melodious, and well-sculptured prose has no rival when it comes to essays in literary criticism or political polemic. (After his voluntary exile in 1980 to Paris and particularly after his emigration to Los Angeles in 1988 he became a severe vocal critic and a passionate opponent of the clerical regime in Persia). His Introductions to his collected poems contain glittering gems of Persian prose. In order to illustrate some of the points I have made above and discuss some other features of Naderpour’s poetry, I have chosen a well-known poem of his: Sorme-ye xorsid “The Healing Kohl of the Sun”9 which is also the title of his fourth book of poetry. It consists of eleven quatrains in mu∂ari‘ musaddas aÌrab makfuf meter (– – – – / ∪ – ∪ – / ∪ – –): Âœu V q~M —u ⁄d s ≠ ± Æœu Â“«— Âd ¨Vd œU X — v ÂdÄ ÈËd V —U ÊuÇ œu Â“UO ¯d »«u t UNM 1 – I was the blind bird of the forest of night,10 Only vagrant 11wind was my confidant. When the night spilled down upon12 my feathers, My sole desire was the sleep of death. ¯d Ê«—«e Èöô “ eÖd ≠ ≤ bO—u qÖ XHJ v/ s d ÁU —uK Ê«böÖ eÖd bOUÄ v/ —u »öÖ s d 2 – Never through thousands of leaves, Would the flower of the sun blossom for me; Never did the rose water-flask of the moon Sprinkle on me the fragrance13 of light. Âœu V q~M —u ⁄d s ≠ ≥ —Ëœ s “« V ÊUÖ—U ‚d X«œ XLKÿ ÏÁœdÄ t s rAÇ —œ —u v ¨Ê«—c~— Xœ ”u U 3 – I was the blind bird of the forest of night, The glitter of night stars far away from me. 9 Lit. “Collyrium of the Sun”. 10 I am grateful to my colleague Michael Hillmann who kindly read this paper and made useful sug- gestions for the translation of the poem. 11 Lit. “Alien, strange”. 12 Lit. “When the load of night poured down on my plumes”. 13 Lit. “Rosewater”. A STAR CEASES TO SHINE 141

To my eyes, covered with the curtain of darkness, The lanterns of passersby were devoid of light. Âœu V q~M —u ⁄d s ≠ ¥ œu ÊU“ tAOL s VKÁ —œ ÊUU ÏtU Ë Ê«e @ — œu ÊUJ tL ¨s rAÇ gOÄ —œ 4 – I was the blind bird of the forest of night; There was always winter in my heart. Colors of autumn and shadows of summer All were the same before my eyes. gu —œ d ÂeO uÇ r u v ≠ µ X— v ÂdM v rAÇ t ÂœËœ œdLO Ëd »Ëd g ¬ ÊuÇ X— v ÂdÄ d“ t Âd ¨UNM 5 – Like a wet log I was simmering within myself; My smoke hurt14 my useless eyes When the fire of sunset died out Lonesome, I would bury my head under my feathers15. Xu v 5“ t r ¨œU t VAJ ≠ ∂ X — v Ëd Á—«d Ë« ‰U “Ë b— Ê«—«e ‘Ëd “« t VAJ ∫X — v Ëd Á—Uá~M t vzuÖ 6 – One night as the wind was pounding its hoofs into the earth And sparks were pouring down from its mane; One night as if from the roar of a thousand thunderclaps, Rocks were raining down; vJ—U ÏÁœu Èöô “« ≠ ∑ beGÃ s Ït ô ÊË—œ vœ œU« s s —œ t È« Á“dÃ “Ë b“dÃ s Ït UO¬ œUOM 7 – From under the folds of the pile of darkness A hand crept into my nest. The shuddering of my body Shook the foundation of my nest. gA~ « d ÂdÖ —UA ¨ÂbJ ≠ ∏ b «“u «d ÈUNÃU ¨tKF ÊuÇ 14 Lit. “My smoke would go into my useless eyes”. 15 Lit. “My head would go under my feathers”. 142 EHSAN YARSHARTER beGÃ rM ÈËd ‘« tMÄ U b U ÊbOá ‘ö “« s VKÁ 8 – In a moment, the warm pressure of its fingertips, Like a flame, burnt my wings. As soon as the fingers glided over my body, My heart stopped struggling to beat Xœ s« Âœ ÁbOá —œ t ¨qU ≠ π œu g ¬ vdÖ Ë œu bO—u œd«Ë «d rAÇ Ëœ È« td U œu ‘“«u ‰UO «— Xœ s« 9 – I was not aware that in the dawn of this hand Was the sun, and the warmth of fire; With its healing kohl, it opened my two eyes: This hand meant to soothe. »UN v ÏÁdO ÊU ¨fÄ Ê«“ ≠ ±∞ ÂbOÃU/ ’U t r —UIM bOU rÃœ t Ë“—¬ —u ÊuÇ ÂbOÃUM ¨` " ÈË“—¬ —œ 10 – From then on, in the dark, moonless nights I no longer ground my mournful beak upon the earth; When the rays of desire lighted my heart, I no longer bemoaned the coming of morn. °oA È« œu u Xœ ¨ÂdÖ Xœ s« ≠ ±± #bËU g ¬ Ë œu u Xœ Âœu V q~M —u ⁄d s °#bO—u Ïtd t Âb UMO 11 – This warm hand was your hand, O Love! It was your hand and your eternal fire. I was the blind bird of the forest of night The healing kohl of your sun gave me sight.

The poem begins with a line of utter gloom and despair and continues for five stanzas describing the poet’s loneliness and misery, mostly with avian imagery; no ray of hope illumines his heart; his only desire is death. Such despondency and melancholy are among the striking and most frequent emotions Naderpour expresses in his poetry, feelings which are intensified with advancing age and frustrations of exile. It is futile to seek the cause of his moroseness in the events of his life. He was born predisposed to a sense of alienation, with a tendency to lament and mourn, albeit in a most graceful language, the emptiness of life, the ruthless passage of time, the dawn of gray hairs, the arrival of A STAR CEASES TO SHINE 143 old age, the aimlessness of existence, and both the fear and appeal of death, even when he was in his twenties. Some early instances of his doleful view of life and his proclivity to grieving may be cited. The poem “A Lament in Silence” (Nâle-i dar sokut), written in March 1950, when he was only twenty-one, begins with the following lines: bM «u ‘« vÖb “ t v s“ ÆXO vzU— Ê«u «d eÖd øÂbM v tÇ ¯d bO« d ‰œ ÆXO vz«b ¨¯d “ «d d~œ From this prison, called life, I will never have the power to free myself. Why should I set my heart to the hope of death? I am no longer separated from death.

And his poem “Astray” (Gomrâh) written in the fall of 1952 starts with the following lines: ÊUL¬ Á«dLÖ ÏÁ—U sd ¬ ÊuÇ Ægu ÁUO X s«œ t Â« ÁbOK h« uÇ Â« ÁœU« V —u ÊUÖbœ “« Ægu Á«— ¨p—U V s« —œ Â« Áœd rÖ Like the last stray star of heaven I have rolled on to the lap of my black fortune. I have fallen from the night’s blind eyes like a tear; I have lost my way in this dark night.

“A Friend’s Memory” (Yâd-e dust) written in 1954 ends with: gJ «— bO—u Ïtd °V uœ È« °s ÂU t bUO Á—UËœ Âb " U O, demon of night, kill the angel of the sun So that the dawn will not touch16 my roof again.

And in his poem “The Latest Deception” (Âxarin farib), written in the Spring of 1954, he says that every time that life presents him with the vision of a green window, it proves to be no more than a deception in order to lure him into continuing his miserable existence. It begins as follows: œu °vÖb “ È« ¨u Vd sd ¬ dÖ Xœu Áœd U— ¨‰U% t U —U b" vA œu Èu «d “U t dAOÄ Ê«“ Xœu Áœd «b ¨¯d ÈUÄ gOÄ —œ

16 Lit. “will not come to”. 144 EHSAN YARSHARTER

Were it not for your latest deception, O Life! I would have already let you go a hundred times; Before you could lure me towards yourself, I would have sacrificed you at the feet of death.

His cultivation of melancholy is also apparent in the poem “The Poetry of God” (Se‘r-e xoda). In it he proclaims Satan a poet and the creator of woman, love, music, wine, and gambling; it is he who has placed joy in the kiss and the glance, pleasure in drunkenness and sin. He ends by addressing Satan: È« ÁœËd Ê«Ë«d dF u dÖ« U« ÆXË« —UJU vÃË ¨X« vJ «b dF f Ë 5AMÃœ år ò ¨X« år ò «b dF °XË« —UJ¬ ÏÁeF t vL ¨È—¬ If you have composed a great many poems, God has but one poem, but it is his masterpiece; God’s only poem is “sorrow”, solely delicious “sorrow,” Ay, a sorrow which is his evident miracle!

It should be noted that Naderpour was from about the mid-1950’s, or even earlier, a very successful and admired poet, as Michael Hillmann also affirms in his excellent and very informative Introduction of False Dawn (p.14). But none of the acclaim he received could quench his anguish and his innate morbidity. Nor did the loss of faith and disbelief in divine justice, which appear to have occurred early in his life, help to dispel his inner gloom. Much of this mournful sorrow could be attributed to the common romantic feelings of youth. It is their persistence and their growing intensity that makes them a trait of Naderpour’s poetry. Depiction of his lonely misery in the first five stanzas of “The Healing Kohl of the Sun” through a number of successive images (“the flower of the sun not blossoming for him,” “the moon not sprinkling him with the perfume of its light,” “the lanterns of the passersby being dim to him,” “his useless eyes suffering from the smoke of his simmering within like wet fuel,” etc.) exhibit another trait of his art: his potent imagery. Naderpour’s images are varied but the majority of them draw on aspects of nature, more particularly the sky, the sun, the moon, the stars, dawn, sunset, clouds, lightning, thunder, spring, autumn, winter, the earth, mountains, birds, water, springs, rain, snow, wind, day, night, etc. Among the frequent images other than those of nature are mirrors, windows, pictures, picture frames, and black and gray hair. This by itself does not say much about how Naderpour creates new images and for what purpose he uses them. First of all, he is extremely sensitive to changing scenes of nature, as if his mind were a sensi- tized film that captures an impressions of nature in the wink of an eye. Although, as I have pointed out, he is primarily a poet of personal feelings, many of his poems begin with the description of facets of nature. But Naderpour is able either to impart his own sentiments to elements of nature or else he can adduce these elements to express his emotions by manipulating them through his imagery. For instance, although the images of the sun, the moon, the stars, the trees, and spring are in classical Persian poetry associated A STAR CEASES TO SHINE 145 with the sense of elation and joy, in Naderpour’s poetry frequently they express anger or gloom or some other dark emotion: e.g., bM «u gU¬ t ÈdOÄ fd Æ—UIM t tJ «d rAÇ ÏtCO The old vulture which they call the sun Has cracked with its beak the egg of my eyes.17 *** UN «—U s U t 5“ Æb—U v tK¬ dÄ s The earth was scratching its pockmarked body With the fingernails of rain drops.18 bOu v t u 5“ ¨V Ê¬ UN «œu ÏtMA ÈuKÖ “« »¬ b¬ v/ ‘uÖ t U tÇu —œ UN «—U È—«“ ÈUNU e That night the scorched earth was gulping Water from the thirsty throats of gutters In the alleys nothing was heard Save the weeping lament of rain drops.19 *** X Áœd Âd ÈôU ÁU Æ”Ud Ë« d ÁbOâOÄ d« Above my head the moon is dead; The clouds have wrapped it in a shroud. 20 *** d ÈUNLAÇ U tL ¨ÊUÖ—U h h b « tdÖ ŸdC t «— œU ÊU«œ .« Áœu s« ‰“« “Ë— “ U °œU ÈU Æ.« Áœu œUd vÄ “« vzUNJ« U One by one the stars, all with streaming eyes, Have clasped the lap of the wind imploringly Crying, O wind! We have not been from the beginning like this, We have been teardrops following desperate shouts for help. 21 ***

17 “The Thief of Fire” (Dozd-e âtas, 1956). 18 “Autumn” (Pâ’iz, 1957). 19 Ibid. 20 “Demon” (Div, 1957). 21 “A Distant Star” (Setâre-ye dur, 1959). 146 EHSAN YARSHARTER

«— gu 5 u ÏtAO Ë bOœ vÁd ∫X «u V ‚d d XJ ÊUL¬ È« tAO bMK ‚U& s X ÈUNM Vu ¨·UJ Ê¬ “Ë ÆXA tO ’U Ë bOJÇ vLM ÊuÇ Lightning flashed and struck its bloody axe Through the skull of night; The tall glass-vault of sky cracked And from its crack, the lone star of my luck Dropped like dew on black earth. 22 ***

Addressing a tree: È« t— 5“ Ë ÊUL¬ œU “« t X —œ «uMO È« ø“uM d~ È—UN —UE « —œ U¬ b « ÁbdÄ h h u ÈUNÖd ÊU d ø“uM d~ È—«b gu “ d U¬ O miserable tree, forgotten by heaven and earth, You are not still expecting a Spring, are you? Your bird(-like) leaves have one by one taken flight You are not still unaware of your condition, are you?23 *** XË« ÂU bO—u t ﬂ œ—“ #u JM s« u ÈUNÖd ÏtË«“ ÊUO d~œ bM v/ vö& ÈU“Ë— “ È—U #U t U XA~ « d ÁU 5~ d~œ ÆbMJO/ uu This yellow spider — whose name is the sun — No longer weaves between the angles of your leaves A web of golden days. The gem stone moon no longer sparkle on the finger of your branches24 *** ÊUL¬ XAÄ d tIU" Œd ‚ö ‰«Ïu Ït Ë—«Ë Xö ÊuÇ bOâOÄ ÆÆÆ

22 “Axe of Lightning” (Tise-ye barq, 1959). Notice that there is a double entendre or amphibole in be xâk-e siyâh nesast, which also means “became miserable”. 23 “Neither Blossom, Nor Bird” (Na sekufeh, na parandeh, 1960). 24 Ibid. A STAR CEASES TO SHINE 147

The red whip of lightning on the back of the sky Twisted like an inverted question mark. … f~ ÏtÃU ÊUL ¨rO ∫s ‘uÖ —œ ÊuÖ˛«Ë qF ÊUL ¨‰ö ∫s rAÇ —œ bMK ¨ÊU~UËd ÂU Ë X ∫qF s“ ÆÊËe ¨vÖœuÃ¬ bÃu ∫f~ Ê¬ “Ë In my ears, a breeze, veritable fly buzzing, In my eyes, a crescent moon, a veritable upside down horseshoe. Thanks to this horseshoe the fortune and fame of the ignoble rise Thanks to that fly the birth of filth in increase.25 *** ∫bO— v V ¨Ë œu ÊU tLO öH ÆX«œ ÁbM —œ aK È« tdÖ ¨ÊUN The sunset was half-dead, and night was arriving; The world had a bitter cry in its laughter.26 *** ∫gu ÁUO Ë X—œ ÊU Ã fÄ —œ V ¨Ê«d « ”U*« d œu ÁœdA Ê«b œ ÆÆÆ s ÊU Ã ¨t~ «Ë fl—U « vÃU Ït(Ã ÊuÇ äK Ë 5 u fl ∫gu ÈU t «œ—œ 7 ÈË“—¬ —œ Æœ—u v ÁËb « Ë bËd v bM Ã Behind its thick and black lips, night Had pressed its teeth on diamond stars; … And then my lips, Bitter and bloody like empty pomegranate gums, In the hope of recovering the pearls of its berries Proffer smiles but grieves inside.27

The relative abundance of such metaphors and imagery does not mean that Naderpour is insensitive to the happier and more inspiring aspects of nature. In a number of poems, where he recalls his early childhood, village scenes, and days of nonchalant happiness, we find serene and joyful descriptions of nature; for instance in “Memories”

25 “A Perplexity in the Storm” (Tardidi dar tufân, 1978). 26 “A Spring Story” (Qesse-ye bahâri, 1982). 27 “A Glance in the Evening” (Negâhi dar sâmgâh, 1990). 148 EHSAN YARSHARTER

(Yâdbudhâ);28 “Fancies (Havashâ),29 “Veil and Prayer” (Neqâb o namâz);30 “Lagoon” (Mordâb);31 “A Future in the Past” (Âyande-i dar gozasteh).32 In the sixth and seventh stanzas an unexpected event takes place whose dramatic effect is reinforced by the description of a powerful storm surrounding the event: an un- known hand softly creeps into the nest, frightening the bird. The eighth stanza continues with the bird’s fright and bewilderment; but the ninth reveals yet another surprise: the feared hand proves a caressing one; there is promise of the sun in its dawn. Like a healing kohl, it opens the bird’s blind eyes. The nature of the hand and its warmth, however, is not deciphered until the eleventh and last stanza, when the poet turns from narration to direct address, declaring that the miraculous hand has been that of love. In few poems has the healing miracle of love been so dramatically portrayed. In the poem we encounter several features of Naderpour’s poetry other than those referred to above. One is that although Naderpour is a lyric poet given to the expression of romantic feelings, there is also an epic disposition in him which lends narrative form to many of his poems. He seems to be most adept in portraying his sentiments through a “story”. His celebrated poem “The Idol-maker” (Bot-tarâs, 1957)33, his equally well- known “elegy” on his poet friend Sohrab Sepehri (Sohrâb o simorq, 1984)34, most of his remembrances of things past, and even some of his philosophical musings (like “Story” Hekâyat, 1987, a disparaging poem on the famous Islamic scholar Gazâli) as well as many of his poems denouncing the Revolution are cast in narrative molds. A second feature is the Naderpour’s use of repetition in a poem of a phrase, a line, or even a whole stanza as an organizing or emphasizing device. In the Sorme-ye xorsid the first line is repeated like a refrain several times with great effect.35 A third feature is the rhetorical device instanced in the last stanza (This warm hand was your hand, O Love!), that is, a change of address in the discourse from the third person to the second (akin to the device that Persian medieval rhetoricians called eltefât36). The unexpectedness turn around adds a dramatic force to the conclusion of the poem. Finally, Naderpour’s poems, unlike classical gazals, have a unified theme and a studied structure. Mostly they begin with a descriptive section leading to the expression of his sentiments, and not rarely ending with a concluding dramatic stanza.

28 Bargozide-ye as‘ar, p. 1. 29 Ibid., p. 23. 30 Ibid., p. 193. 31 Ibid., p. 26. 32 Xun o xâkestar, p. 24ff. 33 Translated by both Ahmad Karimi-Hakkak as “Pygmalion” in his An Anthology of Modern Persian Poetry, Boulder, Colorado, 1978, p. 108 and Michael Hillmann in False Dawn: Persian Poems(1951-1984) by Nader Naderpour, p. 43. 34 False Dawn, pp. 79-83. 35 Such repetitions or “refrains” occur also in “Astray” (Gomrâh, 1952), “Song of Wrath” (Sorud-e xasm, 1952), “Reconciliation” (Âsti, 1955), “Untold” (Nâgofteh, 19 ), “Rain” (Bârân, 1956), “Distorting Mirror” (Âyine-ye deqq, 1958), “Omen” (Fâl, 1958), “A Perplexity in Storm” (Tardidi dar tufân, 1978), “A Dream While Awake” (Xâbi be bidâri, 1979), “Night in the Wisper of Boats” (Sab dar najvâ-ye zowraqhâ, 1982), among others. 36 See, e.g., “The Spring Sermon” (Xotbe-ye bahâri, 1969) and “False Dawn” (Sobh-e doruqin, 1979). A STAR CEASES TO SHINE 149

Love poems are not many in Naderpour’s corpus of poetry, except that his “memories” poems contain fine references to lyric scenes or occasions. At least two poems addressed to “Golmehr”37 and a versified letter addressed apparently to Jaleh Basiri, whom he married in 1986 as a second marriage38, have tender, amorous lines, as do several of his poems inspired by his gripping desire for a beloved’s return. He wrote also at least three sensitive gazals in traditional form but in a new vein and with fresh imagery.39 He also wrote several love lyrics, including “Jug of Wine and My Poetry” (Tong-e sarâb o se‘r-e man, 1977)40, “Lovingly” (Âseqâneh, 1981)41, and “A Bridge Between the Earth and the Sky” (Poli miyân-e zamin o âsemân, 1990).42 Furthermore, he published more than one poem expressing in lyrical tones fatherly love for his sole daughter.43 Naderpour has also tried his hand at deft erotic poems, mostly belonging to his younger days — poems which rival those by Farrokhzad and Behbahani.44 But amorous affection in Naderpour’s poetry takes rather a second place to the expression of his an- guished melancholy and morbid broodings over the inexorable passage of time, the bleak- ness of the present and the hopelessness of the future. Two more points need to be made about Naderpour’s poems. One is that he is an essentially secular poet. Neither transcendent spirituality nor mystical inferences “illumined” his “rational” mind. In more than one poem, to express his resentment against the way the world is run, he portrays the Devil as the ruling monarch of the universe, who has secretly murdered the good, kindly, and just God who once ruled the world. In the same manner that Gaumata (according to Darius and Herodotus) ruled the Persian Empire disguised as the brother he had murdered, so does the Devil govern the world. His poem “The Gaumata of Heavens (Gaomâtâ-ye âsmân, 1958) begins with: «d rA v Ëd ‘d X “ VAJ °«b v UNMÄ ÏÁbMA È« ¨fOK« vO fOK« u ¨oK ÊULÖ —œ dÖ ÆvO u ¨Ê«bOKÄ È«b È« +«œ s One night, I will drag you down from the throne of heaven, O Devil, O secret murderer of God! You are not the Devil in the mind of men, But I know who you are, O god of the foul!

37 See Bargozide-ye as‘ar, pp. ii and 203-4; cf. the lyrical Introduction to the same volume addressed to “Golmehr”. 38 “Open Letter” (Nâme-ye sargosâdeh, 1980) in Xun o xâkestar, pp. 7-10. 39 Two in Sobh-e doruqin, pp. 28-32, and one in Xun o xâkestar, pp. 76-77. 40 Sobh-e doruqin, pp. 7-8. 41 Ibid., pp. 142-144. 42 Zamin o zamân, p. 36. 43 E.g., “Lilac” (Zanbaq, 1959), “Dishevelled Book” (Ketâb-e parisân, 1962), and “In the Reflection of a Match’s Flame” (Dar bâztâb-e so‘le-ye kebrit, 1980). 44 See, for instance, “Naked” (Barahneh, 1947), “Thirst” (‘Atas, 1955), “Restless” (Bitâb, 1956), “Night Flower” (Gol-e sab, 1956), “Merry Party” (Bazm, 1956), “Pleasure” (Lazzat, 1956), “Warm Wax” (Mum-e garm, 1958), “Food Table” (Sofreh, 1959), all reprinted in Bargozide-ye As‘âr, and “One Hundredth and First Night” (Sab-e hazâr o yekom, 1981) in Xun o xâkestar, p.13. 150 EHSAN YARSHARTER

And ends with: °vO fOK« e t v È« ¨—«bA fl vO t b «b “uM ÊUN oK fl ¨Èœ“ «b ÈU d d tOJ bMÇd ¨Èœ“ UM¬ ‘u @ U öK ‘uÖ —œ «d rA v Ëd ‘d X “ VAJ °ÆÆÆ«b v UNMÄ ÏÁbMA È« ¨fOK« Beware! O you who are none but the Devil, — The peoples of the world do not yet know who you are — Although you have propped yourself up in the place of God, And have sung a pleasant song in the people’s ears, One night I will drag you down from the throne of heaven, O Devil, the secret murderer of God!

It is true that in a poem written in the following year, perhaps in search of some spiritual comfort, he showed contrition and offered to repent: gu ÊU“ ÂœuAÖ dH t dÖ« gOÄ s“ ÁUMÖ “« VÃ .uA t Âd Ê¬ d fÄ s“ °—UÖbd¬ È« If I previously uttered blasphemies Henceforth I mean to cleanse my lips of sin, O Creator!

But this was a fleeting exception for an unbelieving mind that knew no supernatural power nor redeeming grace for the afflictions of this world. The theocracy which came after the Revolution only exacerbated his rebellious disbelief: «— «b Êœu Â—UO fÄ s« “« ÆrMO“d —œ X O~ « tM sœ t From now on I cannot praise god As faith brought calamity to my homeland.45

The second point is a criticism levelled against him by the leftist writers and critics to the effect that he was not a “committed” poet and was insensitive to social issues. Actually in his youth a defiant Naderpour, possessed of leftist tendencies himself, exhibited his rebelliousness against the indigence and privation of the downtrodden and against oppres- sion and other social ills:46

45 “A Heart like Hell” (Deli hamtâ-ye duzax), 1986. 46 See, e.g., “The Song of Wrath” (Sorud-e xasm, 1952); “Bitter Clusters” (Xusehâ-ye talx, 1952), both of which show influences from Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath. A STAR CEASES TO SHINE 151 b « Áœd “U ÊUœ t u ÈU—uÖ s« ¨b d uKÖ —œ «— ÁbALÖ ÈU tLIÃ U bMMJO ÈË— ÊU Ë ÊUO U t ¨«œd °b d Ëd «— œu ÏÁ“U ÈU tLF& U These new graves that have opened their mouths To swallow these wasted morsels47 Will tomorrow face the criminal and the base To swallow their new prey.48

He talks about “the blazes of the fire of revolt” hidden in the silent hearts of the op- pressed;49 he wishes that one day a blazing rock would tear away from the sun and hit this inferno of a world and turn it into a heap of ashes.50 At the time, he was considered an engagé poet by the leftist literati who dominated the modern literary scene. But soon he seems to have lost faith and interest in social endeavors. Whether this was caused by the political events which created a schism in the ranks of the leftist activists, or by some inner disaffection of his nature, is difficult to say. It is obvious, however, that he was left with no fulfilling goal to give him assurance and comfort: bMÇ U ¨Y bO« È« bMÇ U ø7 ÊU Ë “Ë— XcÖd ‰œ v dÖ tKO% œ“œ Ëœ s« U ø7~ Ë 7 dN ÊULOÄ How long, O empty hope, how long Will you set your heart on the passage of day and night, With those two insidious robbers Will you make a pact of love and then unmake it?51

Having lost his faith both in the divine justice and in political action, he turns inward, and as Leonardo Alishan points out in his perceptive essay on Naderpour’s poetry, published as a sequel in False Dawn, pp. 87-112, his art becomes his sole preoccupation and the focus of his attention: After being deprived of God, of hope in a secular paradise, of nature and of woman’s love as means of transcendence, faced with himself as a prisoner of Schopenhauerian “Will,” Naderpour attempts one last desperate effort before he concedes that nothing is left to him but his imagination, i.e., the world of art.52

47 Lit. “lost morsels”, i.e., people who have died as the result of misery and injustice. 48 “Bitter Clusters” (Xusehâ-ye talx, 1952). 49 “Scream” (Faryâd, 1957). 50 “Hope or Phantom” (Omid yâ xiyâl, 1959). 51 “A Lament in Silence” (Nâle-i dar sokut, 1950). 52 False Dawn, p. 91. 152 EHSAN YARSHARTER

From about the time of the Revolution, Naderpour’s poems mostly show his inner unhappiness and isolation. With advancing age, and bereft of his admiring audience after his voluntary exile, he becomes more and more obsessed with the hurried passage of time, the streaks of gray hair, and the onset of old age. Poetry continues to be the sole vehicle for outpouring his melancholy feelings. It is one of the ironies of Naderpour’s career that he was criticized by some of his engagé contemporaries as showing no interest in social issues, and as a poet engaged in mere hadith-e nafs or the narration of one’s inner sentiments. But after the Revolution, when some of his critics allowed themselves to be co-opted by the revolutionary regime and many others preferred to remain silent, Naderpour turned into a vociferous opponent of the revolutionary theocracy. Not only did he severely criticize the policies of the new regime in frequent radio and television talks and in his writings, but he wrote many poems showing his abhorrence of its principles and stands, for instance: Ê«—UJN t u~Ç °ôœ «— vNÃ« eG Âö b œd vN ¨oA ÕË— “ vMO v u tâ ¬ fÄ se X« kHÃ ÏÁd$“ ·ö X« vÁU ¨s X —œ d t gdÖ Ïte“ ¨t dÖË v U“ #uJ s—œ Æb¬ v/ —U U “ O heart! Did you not see how the criminals Emptied the divine words Of the spirit of love? From now on what you see Is the empty sheaths of the crickets, Left hanging on the tree of words. But their warm murmuring, In this wintery silence, Is not heard from the tree branches.53

And in reproving his erstwhile critics he wrote: ¨È—¬ °s Ê«d LOÄ n —œ rKÁ ÊU U¬ «— ÊUUL X Xœ t °b U M v ¨ÁœdÄ XAÄ “

53 “The Sermon of Depature” (Xotbe-ye ‘azimat, 1979). A STAR CEASES TO SHINE 153

«— åbÒNF ò kHÃ ¨œË“ tÇ ÆbO Ëd tU ’u “ O prophets of words! Ay, O idols possessing the pen! Whose feeble hands were guided By a thread from behind the curtain! How soon you washed your “commitment” from the tip of your pens!54

Suppression from the homeland enhanced deep but impossible desires to return to his fa- therland. This resulted in a number of patriotic poems and nostalgic pieces about Persia and Persian scenes, among which his eloquent poem about Damâvand stands out (“A Winter Ceremony” Xotbe-ye zemestâni, on Alborz mountain and its snow-covered sum- mit, Damâvand, 1993). Although he was deeply hurt by the prevailing regime in Persia, the number of poems in which his antagonism against his political enemies constitute the chief theme are few, even though the title of the eighth collection of his poems “False Dawn” (Sobh-e doruqin) which is also the title of a poem in the collection is a reference to the shattered hopes raised by the revolution in the mind of its erstwhile supporters. On the other hand, his wrath against the regime, which had barred his return to Persia, had banned the publi- cation of his poems, and had declared him an enemy of Islamic values, was the chief topic of his polemics in his radio talks and television appearances. His death was sudden and caused consternation and profound sorrow among his many admirers. The number of commemorative celebrations testified to the enormous appreciation of his poetry. What he has left behind is a great legacy and must already be counted among the classics of Persian literature.

54 Ibid.