درس سایه برای روزهای سخت

In this video, we will explore one of Houshang Ibtehaj’s most profound and influential poems, Sayeh; a poem that begins with this line: “Today is neither the beginning nor the end of the world Oh, so much sadness and joy that is hidden behind the curtain” This poem is not just a beautiful poetic piece; it is a deep reflection on time, patience, suffering, hope, continuing, and the meaning of the path. In this poem, Sayeh talks about moments when a person thinks everything is over, but time still has many hidden words. In this recitation and interpretation, we will review the poem verse by verse and see how Sayeh, from the heart of sadness, imprisonment, distance, decline, and human wounds, reaches a wisdom that can be called “the art of continuing.” In this video, we will talk about these questions: Why does Sayeh say “Today is neither the beginning nor the end of the world”? What does it mean to say, “Arrival is the art of time”? Why, in Sayeh’s view, patience is not just tolerating, but sometimes “squeezing the soul”? What is the relationship of this poem to hope, suffering, love, and the path of life? And why does the poem end with this important warning: “Do not walk the path of Sayeh”? If you are interested in contemporary Persian poetry, Houshang Ebtehaj, poetry interpretation, Persian literature, the semantics of poetry, and philosophical reflections in poetry, this video can open a new perspective on one of Sayeh’s most beautiful poems for you. Sincerely, Mustafa Adiban Full text of the poem: Today is neither the beginning nor the end of the world Oh, the sorrow and joy that are hidden behind the curtain If a man walks, he will not be sad because of distance and delay You know that reaching is the art of the steps of time You are the ancient traveler to the home of love Look, every step is marked by your blood The water that rests on the ground, may it soon hit the ground The river that flows continuously becomes a sea May even one person sit on a sign The arrow that is in the quiver of this old bow Time has taught me to be heartbroken over you This sight is from that face that is gushing with blood Pain and regret that in this bloody game The play of days is the hearts of men The heart was set on the passing of the caravan of tulips and flowers This plain that is trampled by autumn riders The day when the breath of the spring wind moves See that flowers and greenery The limit is the limit Oh mountain! You heard my cry today There is a pain in this chest that is the twin of the world From the shouting and the saying, all said and did not Oh Lord, how great is the distance between the hand and the tongue Blood drips from the eyes in this corner of patience This patience that I practice is the oppression of the soul Do not pass by the path of the shadow, for that gem of the destination The treasure is in the footsteps of the traveler