áme kεrkā šúnnε nεfār-sar. nεfār-sar xεsέnnε. badími nεfār-sar-e čεl-o-ču hamε bapíssεnε. bāútεmε, “vačε jān! injε, kεlum-e pali, mé-vesse έttā kεrk-kεli dεrεs hā́kεn!” vε εm nεmāšun ke pe dar-biārdε, hamun šō badímε bεmúnε sεre piεr o vačε. ande-tumi piεr o vačε bεmúnε sεre, nεmāz kέrdεnε, qεzā xέrdεnε; ba:d εz nεmāz šínε ún-var, sāāt-e čār harkεt kέrdεnε.
- Our chickens go onto the nefār and sleep on it. [Once] we noted that the wood of the nefār was all rotten. I told [my son], “Dear child! Here, next to the stable, make me a chicken coop.” In the evening that [my son] was setting the foundation, the father [-in-law] and [his] son came home. As soon as the father and son came home, they would say their prayers, eat something, and then, after the prayers, they would go over there (to the next room); then at four o’clock they would set off.
- mosalmunun! mέrε šabgir varέnnε
- āx, mέrε bā kamεr-e haftir varέnnε
- mέrε bavέrdεnε Tεrkεmun-e dam
- Tεrkεmun kāfεr o gεlilε be-ra:m
- Moslems! They are carrying me at the crack of dawn.
- O, they are taking me away with a pistol on the[ir] waist.
- They took me to the vicinity of the Turkmen [tribes].
- Turkmen [are] unbelievers and the bullet [is] ruthless.
- gεtε,
- ašun xō badimā mεn še Ali-rε
- sio dasmāl davέsso še gali-rε
- age xā́nnε bā́urεn ámi badi-rε
- bázεne xεrusεk šέme gali-rε
- volvol sar-e dār gέnε εy zāri-zāri
- me gol dāš báio sarbāz-e Sāri
-
- He would say,
- Last night I dreamed my Ali.
- He [had] wrapped a black kerchief [round] his throat.
- If it is their intention is malignant about us,
- May croup-cough attack your throat!
- The nightingale on the tree constantly bemoans (?)
- My dear brother drafted in Sāri.
| ozεrε-vâ énε dámbe sεvâí iấnnε búye dεlbárrε dεvấi qam o qossέye dεl vónε kεnârí me jấne gεl dénε búye xεdâí | ||
| At break of dawn blows the cool breeze. It brings over the healing odor of the beloved. The sorrow of the heart will go away. My dear flower smells like God. | ||
| basutέ sinέye miónnε hấreš! tévεsse – nấzεnin! – baímε nâxεš tε armúne dέl i, εy nâzεnin yâr! tévεsse mέsle bεlbεl zámbε nâlεš | ||
| Look at the middle of the burnt chest! For you – O loveable! – I am unwell. You are the heart’s aspiration, O beloved! For you I moan like a nightingale. | ||
| Dεl-e armun “Heart’s Aspiration” Rezaqoli Mohammadi Kordekheyli Transcribed and translated by: Habib Borjian |
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