s w i f t s  &  s l o w s: a quarterly of crisscrossings

Letter to Naazee
Kourosh Bahar

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Sohrab Sepehri, Untitled

Translation of Sohrab Sepehri’s
Letter to Naazee from the book “Hanooz Dar Safaram” [I am still traveling]
Tehran, Farvardin 6th 1342 [3/26/1963]

Yesterday that I received your letter, the line of our encounter was still freshly cut deep in the ground. What were we speaking of in that half day of Shemiran? My hands were full of the illumination of the world as you with such birdlike wonderment stood there in the twilight of your spirit. Naazee you are sweeter than water, than the clouds. You will make it to the dawn, lose not your footing. I am your friend and I will hold your hand. Remain in the flow, as birds do, as do the plants. And when you make it to the tree stand there and look. That gaze will lift you up to the sky.  In our day we have not been taught to look; a tree is no mere decoration in a house. No one believes in the flowers of a neighbor’s garden. That which was joined has been torn apart. No one takes walks in moonlight, and none is alerted by the flight of a crow, and does not see god in the railings of the balcony, nor seeks eternity in a water jug. Eyes contain no branches, and no sky fills the veins. In these days trees are more verdant than people, mountains taller than dreams, reeds more straight than anyone’s thinking and the snow whiter than every heart.  Do not fret. A day will come that I will go to water our neighbor’s garden, as you will greet their pine. And the starlings will alight upon our house and people will have more compassion than trees. Do not grieve if you see flowers price tagged at the store, or a rooster beheaded before dawn, or a horse harnessed to a cart and the old leftovers handed out to beggars. It will not always remain so. Ascend your own high places and expect your very own dawning. Caress the world. Open up the door. Observe the ivy and curl up around the light. Do not turn away from the dregs they are part and parcel of the light. Blossom. Overflow. So that your outpouring will flow in every direction. A voice is calling you. Advance. Be your own lesson. See with your own eyes. Live according to your own findings. Sink within yourself so you can get close to others. Become your own guide. Pick the fruit of the inner garden. You will find the branches bearing such fruit that you wish you had many baskets. And if you were to save but one such basket, a branch would surely suffice. I call onto you in this cloudy day. I will call unto you from the heart of the world, and long to hear your voice. In this lonely vale, be the flowing stream, and bubble forth. I will hear it.

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Kourosh Bahar is an Iranian-born American artist, based in New York.