I forgot to watch you

I forgot to watch you

My heart is filled with the sadness of your love

I wrote my existence in your soil

I turn everywhere, I see you

Know the world with your imagination

If you drive out of your door a hundred times

My heart has never broken your promise

I lost my heart because of the name and shame of the world

That my life wanted nothing but your air

I shut my mouth in the silence of the night

Let my heart be filled with the song of your love

If there is a day when you leave

No one left me except Koi Tu Mawa

I am the drop that perished in the sea

He passed away and recognized the sea

#behnammohtarami#

محو تماشای تو

دلم را با غم عشقت سرشته

وجودم را به خاک تو نوشته

به هر سو رو کنم، روی تو بینم

جهان را با خیال تو شناخته

اگر صد بار برانی از در خویش

دلم بر عهد تو هرگز نتاخته

ز نام و ننگ و دنیا دل بریدم

که جانم جز هوای تو نخواسته

زبان بستم که در خاموشی شب

دلم با نغمهٔ عشقت بسازد

اگر روزی رسد هنگام رفتن

مرا جز کوی تو مأوا نمانده

من آن قطره که در دریا فنا شد

ز خود بگذشت و دریا را شناخته

#بهنام_محترمی#

Physical memory of a soul

[Physical memory of a soul]

You are so rooted in me that I don't know

which side of this mirror

I am standing

And which side, you?

I passed myself;

Not like a traveler

cross a territorial border,

But as the soul

From the last belonging

It overlooks the world.

Now that I hear my voice,

Someone from deep within you

He speaks to me;

And in the continuous silence of the night,

Someone from deep within me

He remembers you.

It is strange;

you have never been in me

and i

for years

I am full of your absence.

What is the secret between us?

that distance,

with all its breadth,

could not

separate me from you?

sometimes i think

Maybe before this body

have a name,

my soul

In a distant memory

has been familiar with your soul;

maybe this love

not the beginning of an attachment,

Which is a link to remember

that time

He forgot his name

and John

never

I don't ask myself anymore

Why have I become like you?

I am afraid of this

that one day I will see you

And I can't find any sign of myself.

Lest the whole life

I have not been myself,

not you

but an eternal memory,

which is scattered in two tones

and eager to return,

Looking for each other.

And if they ask me one day

who are you

I will say:

I am that stranger

which does not have a face of its own;

That nameless loneliness

which is in the crowd of the world

until maybe

in someone's eyes

Find your lost memory.

lest I

to be the physical memory of his soul;

and this life

The long exile of a soul

from himself

#Behnam_Mohtarami#

[خاطرهٔ جسمانی یک روح]

چنان در من ریشه دواندی که نمی‌دانم

کدامین سوی این آیینه،

من ایستاده‌ام

و کدامین سو، تو.

من از خویش عبور کردم؛

نه آن‌گونه که مسافر

از مرز سرزمینی بگذرد،

بلکه آن‌گونه که روح

از آخرین تعلق خویش

به جهان چشم می‌پوشد.

اکنون صدایم را که می‌شنوم،

کسی از اعماق تو

با من سخن می‌گوید؛

و در سکوت ممتد شب،

کسی از اعماق من

تو را به یاد می‌آورد.

عجیب است؛

تو هرگز در من نبوده‌ای

و من،

سال‌هاست

از غیبت تو پُرم.

چه رازی میان ما جاری‌ست

که فاصله،

با تمام وسعت خویش،

نتوانسته است

مرا از تو جدا کند؟

گاه می‌اندیشم

شاید پیش از آن‌که این تن

نامی داشته باشد،

روح من

در خاطره‌ای دور

با روح تو آشنا بوده است؛

شاید این عشق،

نه آغاز یک دلبستگی،

که به یاد آوردن پیوندی‌ست

که زمان،

نامش را از یاد برده

و جان،

هرگز.

دیگر از خود نمی‌پرسم

چرا شبیه تو شده‌ام؛

از این می‌ترسم

که روزی در تو بنگرم

و هیچ نشانی از خویش نیابم.

مبادا تمام عمر،

من نه خودم بوده باشم،

نه تو؛

بلکه خاطره‌ای ازلی،

که در دو تن پراکنده شده

و در اشتیاق بازگشت،

یکدیگر را می‌جوید.

و اگر روزی از من بپرسند

تو کیستی،

خواهم گفت:

من آن غریبه‌ام

که چهره‌ای از خویش ندارد؛

آن تنهایی بی‌نام

که در ازدحام جهان می‌گردد

تا شاید

در چشمان کسی،

خاطرهٔ گمشدهٔ خویش را بیابد.

مبادا من،

خاطرهٔ جسمانی روح او باشم؛

و این زندگی،

تبعید طولانی یک روح

از خویشتن خویش.

#بهنام_محترمی#

I stayed alone

I stayed alone

A song in mourning for parting

You are gone and there is a roar of storm in my chest

There is a handful of hijran left after you are done

The house is silent and at night, your eyes cry in mourning

There is a picture of rain on the wall of my heart

I have walked the streets, with tired feet, restless

In the dust of your departure, there is a trace of friends

I am the same, tired of repeating these cold nights

With a broken heart, which is stuck in winter

Oh, the distant dream of no one's time

There is only a lot of warmth left in my life from you

There is no sound, no light, no one at home

The wall has been in ruins for the rest of his life

You left and I am left with burnt memories

Like a broken reed, it is left bare because of the lamentation

I wish you could come back from your journey for a moment

Until you see, this life is over

I didn't stay life, life ran away from me

I have remained like a shadow, hidden by itself.

#behnammohtarami#

تنها ماندم

نغمه‌ای در سوگ فراق

رفتی و در سینه‌ام، غوغای طوفان مانده است

از تمام بودنت، یک مشت هجران مانده است

خانه خاموش است و شب، در سوگ چشمانت گریست

روی دیوار دلم، تصویر باران مانده است

کوچه‌ها را گشته‌ام، با پای خسته، بی‌قرار

در غبار رفتنت، ردی ز یاران مانده است

من همانم، خسته از تکرار این شب‌های سرد

با دلی ویران، که در بند زمستان مانده است

آه، ای رؤیای دور روزگار بی‌کسی

از تو در جانم فقط داغ فراوان مانده است

نه صدایی، نه چراغی، نه کسی در خانه نیست

از تمام زندگی، دیوار ویران مانده است

رفتی و من مانده‌ام با خاطرات سوخته

چون نی بشکسته‌ای کز ناله عریان مانده است

کاش می‌شد لحظه‌ای برگردی از راه سفر

تا ببینی بعد تو، این جان به پایان مانده است

من نماندم زندگی را، زندگی از من گریخت

مانده‌ام چون سایه‌ای، کز خویش پنهان مانده است.........

#بهنام_محترمی#

Days that hand names

Days that had names

In those distant times,

When the dust of centuries had not yet settled on the face of history and Alborz was the silent guardian of Iran's legends, Iranians did not leave time unmarked.

They used to divide the moon into thirty parts and give each part a name;

As if every morning was a gate to another world.

The first day was Ormazd;

The name of wisdom and creativity.

After him, an avalanche came, with a good thought;

Then Ardibehesht, the sign of truth and order;

And after that Shahrivar, Arman Shahriari Dadgar.

The fifth day was called Sepandarmaz;

The name of the earth, humility and seal;

The sixth was June;

Marking and perfection;

and the seventh, Amardad;

The name of immortality.

The days came one after the other:

Azar with fire

Aban with the glory of water,

brook with sunlight,

And the moon with the light it casts on the darkness of the night.

Then it was time to shoot;

A star whose name was associated with rain and hope.

Mehr was coming;

The name of the contract and lighting.

and then Bahram;

The name of victory and fighting force.

Thus, the days came and went;

But none of them were anonymous.

In the Iranian view, time was not only the passing of night and the coming of day;

Time was part of creation.

Every day had an address and every name carried with it a memory of the Minoan world, nature and human life.

Centuries passed.

Kings came and went;

The flags were raised and fell to the ground;

Languages ​​crossed borders and cultures intertwined.

Other names also found their way into the Iranian language;

Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

But the old names did not disappear.

The seal still breathes in our autumn,

Azar is still alive in our winter.

Bahman and Esfand are still sitting on the leaves of our calendar;

And yet, without knowing it, we speak a part of that distant world every day.

How amazing is the history of Iran;

A nation that counts the days too

give an identity to every day;

assigned a meaning to each name;

And he put time in his culture

that after thousands of years,

You can still hear the footsteps of the distant days

He heard it in words like "Mehr" and "Azer".

Days passed;

But the names remained.

And maybe this is the secret of the longevity of a culture:

What is written on the stone will wear out one day;

What flows on people's tongues,

It can live for thousands of years.

#behnammohtarami#

behind the wall

In the middle of the accident, the heart has conspired with you

Love came, fell in a cage and has become a prison

I said, O heart, what is the use of all these walls?

He said: Let there be love, the soil is also a prison

I gave you hand in hand, even though it is a wall and a chain

It was my home at that moment, that moment when my heart became alive

If death is on the way, don't forget love

The one who made a covenant with the right is surprised by the destruction

O God, release these lovers from the cage

Because without meeting my friend, Omar has also been abandoned

Sometimes a visit, from a hundred years of nobody's life

It has become more than the size of the world for humans

If there is a sin, let heaven be the judge

A man is born with love, he became a man with love

There is a light behind the wall of the night of appreciation

The morning is near, although the night has been long

It is impossible to kill love, O guardian of the world

Love is still alive wherever they go.

#Behnam_Mohtarami#

Behind the wall

behind the wall

In the middle of the accident, the heart has conspired with you

Love came, fell in a cage and has become a prison

I said, O heart, what is the use of all these walls?

He said: Let there be love, the soil is also a prison

I gave you hand in hand, even though it is a wall and a chain

It was my home at that moment, that moment when my heart became alive

If death is on the way, don't forget love

The one who made a covenant with the right is surprised by the destruction

O God, release these lovers from the cage

Because without meeting my friend, Omar has also been abandoned

Sometimes a visit, from a hundred years of nobody's life

It has become more than the size of the world for humans

If there is a sin, let heaven be the judge

A man is born with love, he became a man with love

There is a light behind the wall of the night of appreciation

The morning is near, although the night has been long

It is impossible to kill love, O guardian of the world

Love is still alive wherever they go.

#Behnam_Mohtarami#