Aysheh Samarqandi

So, here is something a little different for a change. I recently acquired a rather lovely book called “‘The Mirror of My Heart’ A Thousand Years of Persian Poetry By Women”. I must say, whoever put this little anthology of poetry together- Thank You! The incredible wealth of literary talent that came from the region historically known as ‘Persia’ is astounding. But knowing women to be intelligent, ferocious, monumental beings- I’m not surprised. However, there are a few red flags with this edition; as much as I love the fact that women's poetry - from a part of the world many would assume suppressed female education - is now receiving the standing ovation it deserves. But, the translation has been done by a man. Now, I understand that this translator has been recognised as one of the best translators of Persian literacy in the West, but why not ask Persian women who are fluent in English to translate it? Surely they know the language and the poems and poets just as well? Native speakers are rarely afforded the chance to translate their own culture, surely it is common sense? Native speakers known and understand the significance, the rhythm, the hidden little meanings behind their own language and surely women understand women best.

However, I will work with what I have and the poem that we are to be looking at this week (because Anna Karenina is one hecking long book, why oh why did I choose to read it?!) is by a Thirteenth century poet called Aysheh Samarqandi. Her exact dates are unknown as is the title of the poem. But what a stunning poem it is. It is a love poem, a poem of broken promises, of the nights where love is harboured from the brightness of day, but at a cost.

“I Said “Bright Moon, Give my heart back to me!”

…

“He spread a thousand hearts before my eyes

And Said- “take yours, which is it? You tell me”

There is a beauty in the betrayal here, the poet isn’t lamenting to the heavens or to god, but the moon, the mischievous moon that comes and goes with regular ease. But the shock is that our poet is not the first heart to have been taken by the moon. The fact that the moon will happily give the heart back with out care or regard to, not one, but the thousand hearts the moon harbours adds ice to the deceit of love. 

The next stanza I would argue and interpret as a curse to the aforementioned lover. There is imagery here of eyes weeping pears:

“Like shining earrings in my ears -“

the imagery here is beautiful, it suggests that the poets tears are the wealth of their love. Pearls are beautiful, soft, white. There is a purity- a rareness to them. But our poet doesn’t want them. For who wants to cry for a lover who does not care for them? The poet goes on to say:

“So Take these earrings, since the world 

says you are the owner of my tears”

This is why I think it’s a curse, because the poet is relaying the fact that the world know exactly how they’ve been treated - ‘you’ve taken all that I am, so why not? Take my tears too!’.

Our next stanza exposes the truth of what hurt love has brought our poet, but the reader must ask, is it sorrow or joy?

“…I wouldn’t take a hundred lives

In place of such a night, so quickly gone”

Was the heartbreak worth the one night of pure love? That is question here that is going unanswered, I like that its ambiguous because at the moment the reader is inclined to think that: this one moment of love was life changing. But the hurt that remains calls the poets rational into question. So is it sorrow or joy?

The question of rational motive comes to a head in the last stanza - True, love makes us do and say and think crazy things. But “My hated love” is a new one. But this last stanza is the most important because it gives the reader a ‘why’ answer. We come to understand that, in spite of the previous ‘thousand hearts’, our poet chose to love. We hear:

“Their gossip was you break your promises,

And you know what? My heart said “yes that’s true”

Therefore, despite the gossip and knowing that this wayward lover would break the poets heart, the poet chose to betray their own heart for a chance at seeking love. A love, which we understand is a night that the poet does not regret, not for all the world. However, they cannot help but feel the heat of their lovers betrayal because it adds to the humiliation of their own.

So, how can one summaries this, our translator is a good one, I’ll give them that. But I would’ve liked to have seen how these poems would’ve been interpreted from a females translators perspective. This collection of female poetry shows that female voices are important. So why spoil the fun with a male interpretive voice? Aysheh, this poem is stunning, there’s no doubt about it. And I’m sure, when you get this book, you’ll understand the full gravity of this poem. It resonated with me and I’m sure it will resonate with you. 

Love itself is timeless, it does not age or die - you’ll find it in all four corners of the Earth. Good or bad, joyful or full of pain. Its everywhere. Be warned, it’ll come for you.