While I agree with the general sentiments of Professor Azimi’s article (e.g., the singularly important role of classical Persian poetry and literature in Iran’s history, leading up to the present day), I do take issue with several of her translations of the Persian verses she quotes. Am frankly surprised, because her translations---in my view---misrepresent the intention of the original Persian. By quite a bit. Let me explain.
The first verses she quotes are from the chants regarding Palestine. She translates the first verse as “Leave Palestine for now—“. There is no qualifier “now” in the original Persian. A correct translation would be “Leave Palestine alone”, or even better, “Let Palestine go.” In the second verse she translates the Persian word “hal” as “predicament”. “Hal” in Persian means “state”, or “state of affairs”, or “situation”. The term “hal” is neutral. One can have “hal-e-khoob”, i.e., a good situation, or “hal-e-bad”, i.e., a bad situation. A “predicament” is a bad situation. But that is not what the protesters are chanting. The chant is much more unequivocal in its message:
Let Palestine go,
Think about our situation.
In other words, let Palestine go. Period. Think about our situation. Period. There is no qualification that it should be “now” or that we should do so because we are in a “predicament”. In her translation, Professor Azimi has taken the liberty to soften this message.
The third set of verses she quotes are from the chants regarding Islam. Both in the original Persian, as well as in her English translation, she gives the first verse as a question, “Did we revive Islam?” Perhaps she has listened to different chants, but in the ones I have listened to, the first verse is not a question. It is a statement. In Persian, one can use the same sentence as a statement, or as a question, depending on how the sentence is spoken. It is similar, though less common, in English. “We revived Islam.” Or “We revived Islam?” The protesters chant it as a statement.
As a result, the second verse is not a response to a question. There is no “Nay” (or “no”, or any such thing) in the original Persian. The second verse is also a statement. If anything, it is implied to be the logical consequence of the first statement. Also, Professor Azimi uses the word misery (as a translation for the use of “zelleh”). In Persian when one says “man-o zelleh kardee” it usually means “you are frustrating me”, or “you are driving me crazy”, or “you are bothering me”. Translating it to “you are causing me misery”, is, in my view, a bit too strong. A more correct translation therefore is:
We revived Islam,
We frustrated the people.
Again, the message is clear. The chanters are saying that, by focusing on reviving Islam, the government/regime/establishment has frustrated the people. The people are not asking whether we have revived Islam and answering that we have not and have instead created misery. At this point in time---and after all they have been through---the people of Iran could care less about whether Islam is being revived. I believe Professor Azimi knows that.
Finally, on Ferdowsi and the verses quoted from him. I have always been surprised why Shah-nameh gets translated as “Book of Kings”. It seems to me this is an original error that keeps on getting propagated. And people give it little thought. Yes, there are descriptions of kings, and their histories, in the Shah-nameh, but the book is about so much more than that. However, my quibble with the title is not because of the contents of the book, but rather because of the incorrect translation of the title from Persian to English. I highly doubt that Ferdowsi meant his Shah-nameh to mean “Book of Kings”. Let me explain. To any speaker of Persian it is patently obvious that when one says “shah-rah” one means “king of roads” (i.e., a highway, autobahn, or main road), not “road of kings” (that would be “rah-e shah”, or some such thing). When one says “shah-rag” one means “king of arteries” (i.e., a main artery), not the “artery of kings”. And so on. Therefore the logical translation of Shah-nameh is “King of Books”. That, in my view, was Ferdowsi’s intent.
And now to the verses Professor Azimi quotes from Ferdowsi. The first verse is translated as “For 30 years I labored in pain.” The word “labor” is nowhere to be found in the original Persian. Furthermore, the word “pain”, “ranj” in Persian, is not used as a noun. Rather, it is part of the verb “ranj bordan”, literally “to carry pain”, i.e., “to suffer”. And she does not translate the word “basee”, meaning “a lot” or “a great deal”. The correct translation of the first verse is therefore “I have suffered a lot in these past thirty years.” Her translation of the second verse is even worse. It reads “But Lo, how I have revived the Persian language!” There is no self-congratulatory “Lo” or “Behold” in Ferdowsi’s original. And he does not claim to have revived the Persian language. He claims something entirely different. He claims to have revived the “ajam” through this “parsi”. “Ajam” in Arabic means “mute” and was used to refer to people who did not speak Arabic, which later became to mean “Iranian people”. “Parsi” is the Persian language. I also think, in this context, “resurrect” is a better translation of “zendeh kardan”, rather than “revive”. So the correct translation is:
I have suffered a lot in these past thirty years,
I have resurrected the Iranian people through this Persian language.
Which is very different, both in meaning and message, from Professor Azimi’s translation. I could go on, but this is already too long a comment. I think one needs to be extremely careful and diligent when translating from one language to another, and in striving to maintain fidelity to the original message and meaning.
While I agree with the general sentiments of Professor Azimi’s article (e.g., the singularly important role of classical Persian poetry and literature in Iran’s history, leading up to the present day), I do take issue with several of her translations of the Persian verses she quotes. Am frankly surprised, because her translations---in my view---misrepresent the intention of the original Persian. By quite a bit. Let me explain.
The first verses she quotes are from the chants regarding Palestine. She translates the first verse as “Leave Palestine for now—“. There is no qualifier “now” in the original Persian. A correct translation would be “Leave Palestine alone”, or even better, “Let Palestine go.” In the second verse she translates the Persian word “hal” as “predicament”. “Hal” in Persian means “state”, or “state of affairs”, or “situation”. The term “hal” is neutral. One can have “hal-e-khoob”, i.e., a good situation, or “hal-e-bad”, i.e., a bad situation. A “predicament” is a bad situation. But that is not what the protesters are chanting. The chant is much more unequivocal in its message:
Let Palestine go,
Think about our situation.
In other words, let Palestine go. Period. Think about our situation. Period. There is no qualification that it should be “now” or that we should do so because we are in a “predicament”. In her translation, Professor Azimi has taken the liberty to soften this message.
The third set of verses she quotes are from the chants regarding Islam. Both in the original Persian, as well as in her English translation, she gives the first verse as a question, “Did we revive Islam?” Perhaps she has listened to different chants, but in the ones I have listened to, the first verse is not a question. It is a statement. In Persian, one can use the same sentence as a statement, or as a question, depending on how the sentence is spoken. It is similar, though less common, in English. “We revived Islam.” Or “We revived Islam?” The protesters chant it as a statement.
As a result, the second verse is not a response to a question. There is no “Nay” (or “no”, or any such thing) in the original Persian. The second verse is also a statement. If anything, it is implied to be the logical consequence of the first statement. Also, Professor Azimi uses the word misery (as a translation for the use of “zelleh”). In Persian when one says “man-o zelleh kardee” it usually means “you are frustrating me”, or “you are driving me crazy”, or “you are bothering me”. Translating it to “you are causing me misery”, is, in my view, a bit too strong. A more correct translation therefore is:
We revived Islam,
We frustrated the people.
Again, the message is clear. The chanters are saying that, by focusing on reviving Islam, the government/regime/establishment has frustrated the people. The people are not asking whether we have revived Islam and answering that we have not and have instead created misery. At this point in time---and after all they have been through---the people of Iran could care less about whether Islam is being revived. I believe Professor Azimi knows that.
Finally, on Ferdowsi and the verses quoted from him. I have always been surprised why Shah-nameh gets translated as “Book of Kings”. It seems to me this is an original error that keeps on getting propagated. And people give it little thought. Yes, there are descriptions of kings, and their histories, in the Shah-nameh, but the book is about so much more than that. However, my quibble with the title is not because of the contents of the book, but rather because of the incorrect translation of the title from Persian to English. I highly doubt that Ferdowsi meant his Shah-nameh to mean “Book of Kings”. Let me explain. To any speaker of Persian it is patently obvious that when one says “shah-rah” one means “king of roads” (i.e., a highway, autobahn, or main road), not “road of kings” (that would be “rah-e shah”, or some such thing). When one says “shah-rag” one means “king of arteries” (i.e., a main artery), not the “artery of kings”. And so on. Therefore the logical translation of Shah-nameh is “King of Books”. That, in my view, was Ferdowsi’s intent.
And now to the verses Professor Azimi quotes from Ferdowsi. The first verse is translated as “For 30 years I labored in pain.” The word “labor” is nowhere to be found in the original Persian. Furthermore, the word “pain”, “ranj” in Persian, is not used as a noun. Rather, it is part of the verb “ranj bordan”, literally “to carry pain”, i.e., “to suffer”. And she does not translate the word “basee”, meaning “a lot” or “a great deal”. The correct translation of the first verse is therefore “I have suffered a lot in these past thirty years.” Her translation of the second verse is even worse. It reads “But Lo, how I have revived the Persian language!” There is no self-congratulatory “Lo” or “Behold” in Ferdowsi’s original. And he does not claim to have revived the Persian language. He claims something entirely different. He claims to have revived the “ajam” through this “parsi”. “Ajam” in Arabic means “mute” and was used to refer to people who did not speak Arabic, which later became to mean “Iranian people”. “Parsi” is the Persian language. I also think, in this context, “resurrect” is a better translation of “zendeh kardan”, rather than “revive”. So the correct translation is:
I have suffered a lot in these past thirty years,
I have resurrected the Iranian people through this Persian language.
Which is very different, both in meaning and message, from Professor Azimi’s translation. I could go on, but this is already too long a comment. I think one needs to be extremely careful and diligent when translating from one language to another, and in striving to maintain fidelity to the original message and meaning.