Self-Portrait in Bloom. Niloufar Talebi
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Self-Portrait in Bloom
Self-Portrait in Bloom
by
Niloufar Talebi
l’Aleph
Niloufar Talebi
SELF-PORTRAIT IN BLOOM
2019 Published by l’Aleph – Sweden – www.l-aleph.com
l’Aleph is a Wisehouse Imprint.
ISBN 978-91-7637-565-5
All the translations from the Persian, as well as Paul Éluard’s “Air Vif,” in this book are by Niloufar Talebi.
“Collective Love” was published in the Catamaran Literary Reader (Summer 2014, No. 7).
The cover image is a version of “Cotton,” a digital painting by M. Talebi, the author's father. Cover design by Fatline Studios. http://fatlinestudios.com
This memoir reflects the author’s present recollections of experiences over time. Some details, dialogue, and events have been changed, recreated, and condensed.
Translations of Ahmad Shamlou’s poetry © 2019 Niloufar Talebi. Translated and published with permission from Aida Shamlou, co-director of the Alef. Bamdad Institute.
Self-Portrait in Bloom © 2019 Niloufar Talebi
Publisher stipulates distribution in Berne Convention countries only.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photographing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the author and publisher.
For Mahni
who saw me in the fire
and through
“…Language is never innocent…”
—Roland Barthes
CONTENTS
3. Aida: Muse, Wife, Assistant, Steward
4. Me
5. Shamlou
6. Me
7. The New World
8. Tehran
9. Shamlou’s Funeral
10. The Master and Margarita
11. San Francisco, My Golden City
12. The Birth of a Translator
13. A Skyrocketing, 2003–2013
14. My Shamlou Projects
15. Poems by Ahmad Shamlou
Collective Love
The Beginning
Genesis
Nocturne
River
Poverty
Farewell
Unfinished Ghazal…
Song of Acquaintance
You and I…
Aida in the Mirror
Nocturne
On the Winter Within
The One Who Says I Love You
I Wish I Were Water
Hamlet
Nelson Mandela
An Epic?
Dark Song
The Anthem of Abraham in Flames
Rupture
Funeral Address
In the Moment
Still Life
Grappling with Silence
Nocturne
Epitaph
Birth
At the Threshold
I Cannot Not Be Beautiful
16. Venom of Snake
17. To Colleague, My Censor
18. Time, a Long, Long, Time (Through the Fire)
19. Blossomfield
CODA
Notes
References
Illustrations
Acknowledgments
About Ahmad Shamlou
There are two books in this book. One portrait of me and one of Ahmad Shamlou. And they intersect.
Memory is fiction.
Flash fragments.
There is no exact equivalent in English for the Persian word zahre-maar, at least none that I’ve thought up, but the literal translation is “venom of snake.” Zahr/venom, e/of, maar/snake. Three distinct syllables.
I love the way the word sounds, how the Z can be emphasized, ZZZZAH!, how the H can be guttural—no, not as the Arabic H that veers into KH, we’re talking a breathy H, as in a hardy Hi!—before the release into the elongated AA, MAAAAAAAR, like a snake itself.
Zahre-maar has multiple meanings depending on context and delivery. As an exclamatory phrase, Zahre-maar! can be a bitter response to someone, a retort for being wronged, but it could also be delivered with a lighter touch, feigning a greater degree of hurt than felt. For jest.
Zahre-maar reminds me of a board game I used to play with my brother, Maar O Pelleh, Snakes and Ladders. Each player competes to be the first to arrive at the final square by rolling dice and advancing on a board. On the way, each could randomly encounter ladders (which give a leg up) or snakes (the opposite). If a player lands on the Envy box, for example, the snake of envy drops the player to only the second of usually one hundred squares in some games. Forward momentum seriously thwarted.
Zahre-maar can also be used with the auxiliary verbs shodan, to become, or kardan, to do:
Zahre-maaram shod = It was ruined for me. Zahre-maaram kard = Someone ruined it for me.
To ruin something for someone.
Yeki bood, yeki nabood. Once upon a time there was one, there was none*