BAHAR
Spring is like young people
It is not thinking of winter or fall
It is thinking of life, here and now
So don’t be sad or angry
Instead be forgiving and kind
Not only for their sake
The ones who may have hurt you
But also for your own
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13 BEDAR
Photo essay: Iranians invade Vasona Park, northern California
by
kfravon >>>
STORY
Chop, chop, those beautiful chestnut locks all gone
A while ago, Yassi had been arrested by a group of officers. Before they had taken her to the station house, they had gang raped her. When she came home after weeks of detention peppered with beatings, lashes, and other mistreatment, the young girl was hysterical. For the first day, she couldn’t stop laughing. It wasn’t laughter actually. More like a giggle. Not a light hearted giggle that you would hear at the end of a punchline. Something else. Something wild and ... not... sane. It chilled Azadeh to the bone to hear her friend giggle like that for no reason when she should have been crying or screaming, anything but that. Had she lost her mind for good?
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POETRY
دامن همچون تویی گلگون شدن
ای خوشا چون لاله های کوهها
در بهاران سبز و دامن خون شدن
از نسیم دامن افشان سحر
واله و شیدا و دیگرگون شدن
سی تماشای رخ خورشید خود
بر سر بام جهان بیرون شدن
یا ز انوار رخ دلدار خود
مست گشتن و ز پی اش مفتون شدن
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PRIDE & JOY
Photo essay: Thousands join Norooz parade
by
talieshah >>>
YOU
I have never been this woman before you, before I found you
I need you to say you love me. I want your words to touch me again. Look, who knows maybe I will break into a thousand pieces soon. Perhaps morning tempers and letters burn, but I want my body to learn new words, a fistful of words as sweet and sour candy that happens to be in my mouth; words that stem from the heart and soul, making rich feathery sensation on the back of my neck; words that tantalize like the tip of your tongue finding its path to my lips. These are simple adventures that fill, pant, and pour the depth of my body where I let natural forces find fever at every beat, every beat that is as strong as my desires
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SIN
Interview with translator of Farrokhzad's poetry, Sholeh Wolpe
Although a number of English translations of Forugh Farrokhzad's work have been published, many fail to capture the nuances of the Persian language, the incisive and edgy aspects of her mind, and her unique and powerful experience as a woman living through the turbulence of Iran’s 20th century modern history. I had the opportunity to interview Iranian-American poet-translator, Sholeh Wolpe and asked her about her role as the translator of the most recent collection of Forugh’s poetry, Sin: Selected Poems of Forugh Farrokhzad and the way Forugh’s life and legacy has personally touched her.
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POETRY
ساحل فقط جای تماشا بود
و لم دادن سبکباران
اما در انفجار بزرگ
در سفر پيدايش؛
از توآموختم بر موج برقصم
و جز بر پرواز و صبح آرام نگيرم
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FILM FEST
Siamak Ghahremani of the Noor Film Festival
The ever growing pool of exceptional talents offers a great opportunity to bridge the Iranian film community at large working both within the Diaspora or in Iran with that of Hollywood and the independent film society across North America. Iranian American Producer Siamak Ghahremani has filled in this necessary gap by founding the Noor Film Festival (NFF) which will be holding its 2nd annual this weekend in Hollywood. A glittering event and much welcomed initiative that acknowledges contemporary film and acting achievements while paving the way for future aspiring talents. I had the opportunity to talk to Mr. Ghahremani and learn more about his Noor Film Festival.
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TENDER
My American mother says,
`In the next circle of life
I want to become
A tall, shade tree.`
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NAMAHRAM
Who said Muslim women can't kiss strangers?
by Mosafer
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PHOTOGRAPHY
I hope you will find pleasure in these photos
by
Marjan Zahed Kindersley >>>
FOROUGH
گلچینی از اشعار فروغ فرخزاد به زبان انگلیسی
گرچه مترجمان بسیاری هم سعی داشته اند تا شعر فروغ را به زبان انگلیسی برگردانند و گاه ترجمه های غنی از ایشان خوانده ام اما بی شک شعله ولپی با حس شاعرانه و ممتاز خود یکی از زیباترین ترجمه های اشعار فروغ را در گلچین گناه برای خوانندگان به ارمغان آورده است. شعله با انتخاب و ترجمه این اشعار در عین حال به آگاه کردن مردم به وجود سانسور در ایران پرداخته است. بسیاری در جهان در مورد نقض حقوق بشر و استبداد حاکم بر ایران می دانند. با این وجود وظیفه هنرمند آن است که باز به افشای ستم بپردازد و توجه هر چه بیشتر جهانیان را به آن جلب کند. شعله با داشتن نامی آشنا در جامعه ادبی انگلیسی زبان به این مهم پرداخته است. وی در این تلاش یکی ازموفقترین ترجمه ها از شعر فروغ را ارائه داده است.
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OPIUM
دو فقره معجزه مربوط به مرغ و افیون!
شاطر علی از قدیم و ندیم به دو چیز وابسته و دلبند بوده. چیز اول واضح و آشکاره! کسی که شاطر علی گذری و دست دوّم هم که بشناسه، میدونه وابستگی اولش چیچیه! همونه دیگه...سیاهی! تریاک! نعشه جات! افیون! دلبستگی دوم شاطر مرغ و خروس بوده! تا ما یادمون هست شاطر علی تو حیاط خلوت یا رو پشت بومش قفس مرغ و خروس براه بوده. بذار این جوری بهت بگم، آخرین باری که شاطر علی از دکون تخم مرغ خریده ملا علی مشهدیه هنوز روضه ده تومنی میخونده! بگذریم، منظورم اینه که این شاطر سی سال مرغ و خروس باز بوده! و خوب البته همزمانش تریاکی هم بوده!
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HUMOR
از مهدكودك فرار كردي اومدي خانوم بلند كني؟ هوي هوي مواظب باش توي ديوار نري
با بلوغ همه چيز حتي بوي بدن آدم تغيير مي كند و تازه خيلي علامت ها ، اتفاق ها براي آدم معني دار تر مي شود و ديگر شنيدن خيلي از ديالوگ ها و برخوردهاي اجتماعي يا ديدن نگاه ها اشاره ها ، بي معني و عجيب نمي شود. بلوغ آدم را وارد لانه ي مورچه ها مي كند و مي گويد كه مدام بايد به دنبال شيريني رفت و به دستش آورد و شايد اگر شد براي بعدها ذخيره اش كرد. در عوض اعصاب آدم از چيزهاي جديدي خرد مي شود كه قبلا پشيزي ارزش نداشت. احساس هاي دوگانه اي در مقابل خيلي ها به آدم دست مي دهد. ناموس ، پرستيدني مي شود اما با دوست دختر خيلي چيزها را مي شود گفت و خيلي كارها را مي شود كرد.
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STORY
Around the corner, a group of women were standing and laughing loudly
Azadeh took her time approaching the passenger side. She looked in as the driver reached over and rolled the window down.
-- “Hey haven’t seen you in a while.” The man said smilingly.
-- “That can be changed,” Azadeh replied, “if you have five thousand
tomans.”
-- “
Panj-hezaar-taa meegiri! Five thousand!” The man scoffed, “Who do you think I am, a millionaire mullah?”-- “Listen buddy, you wanna haggle, go to the
Baazaar,” Azadeh fired back, unfazed, “I’m not selling
chaghale-badoom, spring almonds, here.”
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POETRY
Dissolving milk in the sea of green
the body drifted, naked, clean.
Delicate hands motionless in the waves
a faraway voice calling his names.
Every step descended further
from the vertical wall of water.
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