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29 novembre 2006 3 29 /11 /novembre /2006 17:04

Dans ma nuit, si brève, hélas

Le vent a rendez-vous avec les feuilles.

Ma nuit si brève est remplie de l'angoisse dévastatrice

Ecoute! Entends-tu le souffle des ténèbres?

De ce bonheur, je me sens étranger.

Au désespoir je suis accoutumée.

Ecoute! Entends-tu le souffle des ténèbres?

Là, dans la nuit, quelque chose se passe

La lune est rouge et angoissée.

Et accrochés à ce toit

Qui risque de s'effondrer à tout moment,

Les nuages, comme une foule de pleureuses,

Attendent l'accouchement de la pluie,

Un instant, et puis rien.

Derrière cette fenêtre,

C'est la nuit qui tremble

Derrière cette fenêtre, un inconnu s'inquiète pour moi et toi.

Toi, toute verdoyante,

Pose tes mains - ces souvenirs ardents –

Sur mes mains amoureuses

Et confie tes lèvres, repues de la chaleur de la vie,

Aux caresses de mes lèvres amoureuses

Le vent nous emportera!

Le vent nous emportera!

Vous avez peut être déjà entendu ce poème dans le film de Kiarostami le vent nous emportera. Forough Farrokhzad (1935 – 1967) est la poétesse iranienne la plus connue et réputée, de par sa poésie, mais également de par sa vie et sa fin tragique, son engagement de femme. Mariée à 17 ans, elle divorcera deux ans plus tard pour mener une vie solitaire indépendante entrecoupée d’aventures amoureuses. A 27 ans, elle réalise un film intitulé Khané sigh ast (la maison est noire) dans la léproserie de Baba Baghi près de Tabriz et adopte le fils d’un couple de lépreux. Elle s’adonna également à la peinture. Mais c’est surtout par sa poésie qu’elle doit sa renommée : I respect poetry in the very same way that religious people respect religion. Les thèmes abordés dans ses poèmes n’ont rien de philosophique ou de politique. C’est la première poétesse iranienne à exprimer en tant que femme, avec le courage que cela implique, ses regrets, ses joies et ses douleurs, ses doutes et ses rêveries. Elle aimait la vitesse, dans la vie comme sur la route. Elle meurt brutalement à 32 ans dans un accident de la route.

Pour ceux qui veulent aller plus loin, Forough Farrokhzad a son propre site internet (www.forughfarrokhzad.org) et un recueil de ses poèmes vient d’être édité en français La conquête du jardin : poèmes 1951 – 1965.

La conquête du jardin de Forough FARROKHZAD – Lettres persanes 2005 : Recueil de poésies couvrant la période 1951 - 1965

in english please
My whole being is a dark chant which will carry you perpetuating you to the dawn of eternal growths and blossoming in this chant I sighed you sighed in this chant I grafted you to the tree to the water to the fire. Life is perhaps a long street through which a woman holding a basket passes every day Life is perhaps a rope with which a man hangs himself from a branch life is perhaps a child returning home from school. Life is perhaps lighting up a cigarette in the narcotic repose between two love-makings or the absent gaze of a passerby who takes off his hat to another passerby with a meaningless smile and a good morning . Life is perhaps that enclosed moment when my gaze destroys itself in the pupil of your eyes and it is in the feeling which I will put into the Moon's impression and the Night's perception. In a room as big as loneliness my heart which is as big as love looks at the simple pretexts of its happiness at the beautiful decay of flowers in the vase at the sapling you planted in our garden and the song of canaries which sing to the size of a window. Ah this is my lot this is my lot my lot is a sky which is taken away at the drop of a curtain my lot is going down a flight of disused stairs a regain something amid putrefaction and nostalgia my lot is a sad promenade in the garden of memories and dying in the grief of a voice which tells me I love your hands. I will plant my hands in the garden I will grow I know I know I know and swallows will lay eggs in the hollow of my ink-stained hands. I shall wear a pair of twin cherries as ear-rings and I shall put dahlia petals on my finger-nails there is an alley where the boys who were in love with me still loiter with the same unkempt hair thin necks and bony legs and think of the innocent smiles of a little girl who was blown away by the wind one night. There is an alley which my heart has stolen from the streets of my childhood. The journey of a form along the line of time inseminating the line of time with the form a form conscious of an image coming back from a feast in a mirror And it is in this way that someone dies and someone lives on. No fisherman shall ever find a pearl in a small brook which empties into a pool. I know a sad little fairy who lives in an ocean and ever so softly plays her heart into a magic flute a sad little fairy who dies with one kiss each night and is reborn with one kiss each dawn. Perhaps you already heard this poem in the famous film of Abbas Kiarostami The wind will carry us. Farough Farrokhzad (1935-1967) is the most famous Iranian poetess. Her celebrity comes from her poetry, but also her life, the tragedy of the end of her life, her engagement as a woman. Married at 17 years old, she divorced two years later to lead a solitary and independent life interrupted by some affairs. At 27 years old, she’s director of the film “Khâné sigh ast (The house is black) in Baba Baghi leper hospital, close to Tabriz and she adopted the son of leper family. She took up with painting too. Anyway, her renown comes mainly from her poetry: I respect poetry I the very same way that religious people respect religion. On her poems, she doesn’t deal with politic or philosophy. She’s the first Iranian poetess who express, as woman, with the courage that it means, her feelings, her regret, her delight and grief, her doubts and her dreams. She liked speed, on her life as on the roads. She died violently on a car crash. She had only 32 years old. It’s possible to find some of her poems on the following site: www.forughfarrokhzad.org

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meubles tv 06/07/2010 18:08


J'apprécie votre blog, je vous remercie pour votre partage, et notez en premier lieu que je "plussoie" pleinement ce point de vue. Permettez-moi d'insister, votre blog est vraiment bien bon, je
pensais à tout ça en plus y'a pas si longtemps ! NB : Merci encore !


Mojdeh 03/12/2006 12:16

She was 200 yrs early for Iran so much like many other men and women in my beloved country. Although I'm not  really a fan of all  her poems, I really appreciate her courage and strength to be a different woman. Peace be upon her.