Gheysar Aminpour

Gheysar Aminpour was an Iranian poet and writer. He composed poems for children as well as for adults.

The poem which I have translated today, is one of the greatest Persian contemporary poems ever. In it, the poet has urged on how short our lives are.

Here is the poem:

Perpetual rue

Still, we have so much to say ,
but it’s time to leave.
That perpetual tale again!
Soon it’s time to depart this life
and no one tells you anything about it.
Oh…
Oh perpetual rue,
All of a sudden,
How soon,
It gets too late.

Gheysar Aminpour

Mother's Day

We do know how much our mothers love us, their children. We all do know about severe pains they have felt until they have brought their children up.
There is a famous phrase in Persian that says :”Paradise belongs to Mothers”

Every morning your breakfast is ready and there is no need to thank her.
Your clothes are always clean and ironed without complaining.
She smiles when you nag or moan.
.
.

When I think of tasks that a mother does I thank my mom. Being a mother is not easy at all. One must experience numerous pains to be a good mother.

Tommorow in Iran is the national day for Mothers, but here I want to thank all mothers in the world for they are always the kindests.

Nasser Hejazi

TEHRAN, Iran – Nasser Hejazi, a former goalkeeper for Iran’s national team who competed in two Olympics, died Monday after battling cancer, state TV reported. He was 61.

Hejazi lost consciousness last week and remained in a coma until his death, the report said. He had been treated for cancer for the past two years.

Hejazi appeared as goalkeeper in the 1972 Olympics in Munich and in 1976 in Montreal. He also was a member of Iran’s World Cup team in 1978 in Argentina. He retired from international competition in 1980, but continued with Iranian teams until 1986.

He later worked as manager for several Iranian teams and others in Bangladesh and Slovakia.
He is known as a “Legend” in Iran footbal history.

Source

I have finished translating some poems from Persian to English.They are modern poems and they are written in German.
I could not find the original German poems but Persian translations could be found somehow hard.

About the Poet
I like to let the poet’s name hidden.He was an Iranian patriot and an educated singer.He was killed in silence and some Iranians still think that he’s alive and is leaving abroad, in exile.
I hope one day ,All these patriots will be familiar and there will be no problem with revealing their names.

Here are the poems:

Not Heared

I don’t like the ruins,
to spread on our fortune;
that reposed uniforms march on our future.
I don’t like the flowers,
to look for a shelter;
in the desert….

The Sorrow of Autumn

Autumn has its own sorrow,
When we leave it.
Now, its statues;
beneath the sky with which we adorned ourselves;
change [completely].
And the lines of its hands
decoy of arrival.
The light red birds,

Land on the colors of shadow.
The remembrance of the green lover mates,
hides itself beneath the fallen leaves.
Soon, motes of dust,
uprise and tear the flags;
and then an unknown scent,
jog on our memories.
Man does not have a memorial,
in exile.
He is a worm and a grave,
or an umbrella,
that; one has forgotten to take;
in a tavern!

Another Season

Summer was a thirsty swallow,
that died in the mirage of sky.
Autumn,
was a sad book,
which I studied to the end.
Now we desire,
to take steps on dead meadows;
and look for useless sickles;
and wear black gloves to give warmth to winter;
as a present.

A sail

I’d like to create a sail,
from my heart;
and take wing over the heights of my homeland….

Wait

In the city of my silence;
sleep is on wings,
like a black bird.
Will it find the way to my eyes?

Tranquility

I love this sky,
that its blue glass breaks;
due to the heaviness of the sun….
I love this earth,
and its green scent;
which goes up,
free from dreams.
I love these clamorous rivers;
that run through the scent of blue flowers.
And these fish ,
which repeat silver coins ,
in their eyes.

The Atomic Bomb

They are trying to make us believe;
that an atomic bomb,
is just a white fungus,
which whispers to the poplars.
Or is a peafowl that shows its feathers.
But a white fungus,
has black shadows;
and crazy peafowl has deadly feathers.
You can hold a holy book above your head,
and expect a miracle.
[or] you can crawl under a table,
like a sick dog,
and wish yourself;
a more peaceful death.

Audio and Video:
1.Mi Caballo Blanco in Persian:
Mi Caballo Blanco(Persian)
2.Mi Caballo Blanco in Spanish:
Mi Caballo Blanco in Spanish

Mi Caballo Blanco (Spanish) (Video of the above track)

* Lyrics from Quilter’s Muse Virtual Museum and English Translation by Patricia L. Cummings.

What is new in 2010?
This year Computer sciences is added to the fields and the deadline has increased until December 25th.

Place
As other years it will take place in Kerman.

Congress of Basic Sciences on The web
You can refer to the website of the congress here:

http://www.cbss.ir

There you can find more information about associated people and postal address of the secretariat of the congress.