Ahmad Shamlou (December 12, 1925 – July 23, 2000) is arguably the most influential 20th century Persian poet. Publication of the Fresh Air (هوای تازه), which also includes a children’s poem, “Fairies” in 1957, gave Shamlou instant recognition among Iranian intellects and brought him public fame. However, despite his success, he always remained a poet of the people. “Fairies” is a powerful lyrical story deeply rooted in Persian folkloric literature. The story takes place when a horseman sees three fairies on his way to home to the city, where the captive slaves have toppled their evil ruler and are about to celebrate their victory. The conversation between the fairies and the horseman is an astonishing metamorphism that touches on the brutality of the real world and the opacity of the unreal fantasy world. Although it was originally published in 1957, the work was mostly banned in Iran during the previous Shah regime. Shamlou wrote “Fairies” poem while he was in prison for his politically charged poetry and activism. It is an allegorical poem that uses children’s language and expression but with a distinct political and humanistic theme and explores the hopes and sorrows of a nation that is yearning for freedom and justice. At the time of its publication, the poem was entirely new in Persian children’s literature, and to date, it remains one of Shamlou’s most read and most inspiring poems. This is the first-ever translation of “fairies” into English.
Fairies
Once upon a time,
Three naked fairies sat at sunset,
Under the blue dome of the sky,
Sobbed and cried the fairies,
Their tears were like rain from spring clouds,
Their hair was as long as rope and as dark as night,
Even longer than a rope, darker than the night,
Before them, upon the horizon,
There was a city of captive slaves,
Behind them stood an old mystical black and cold fortress,
(Where the fairies used to live)
At night, the fairies could listen to the sounds coming from the city,
They could hear the clanking sound of chains,
And whimpers of the nightly moans from the fortress behind.
(a horseman on his way to the city of captive slaves sees the fairies)
Hey fairies,
Aren’t you hungry?
Aren’t you thirsty?
Aren’t you tired?
Are you stuck?
Why are you crying and sobbing?
The fairies said nothing,
They continued to sob and cry,
Their tears were like rain from spring clouds,
Dear fairies (asked the horseman),
Why are you crying?
Aren’t you worried in this faraway desert,
At nightfall,
It could snow, or it could rain.
Aren’t you worried a wolf could show off and eat you?
Aren’t you afraid a devil could come and gobble you up?
Aren’t you scared?
Why don’t you want to come to our city?
Don’t you hear the sound of our city?
The sound of clinking chains!
Fairies!
Look how tall I am (the horseman said),
Do you see my white horse?
With its honey-colored mane,
With its honey-colored tail, its sliver shoe,
It runs as fast as the wind,
With pride and courage,
it’s the one and only.
There is a celebration tonight,
The devil has been toppled,
The people are our guests tonight,
They are coming from all around,
They are drumming boom, boom,
They are signing, laughing, and dancing,
Hullabaloo,
Ho and ho,
The city is ours now!
We celebrate, the devil whines,
The world is ours, the devil grumbles,
Light is a king, the devil is darkness,
Darkness is a shame.
Fairies,
Today is a new beginning,
The doors of the fortress are fastened,
If you can wake up early,
You can ride on my horse and get to the city together,
Do you hear the sound of the clinking and loosening of the chains from the ankles and wrists of slaves,
Yes, there are costly chains,
They are loosening and dropping off from the ankles and wrists of the slaves,
Chain by chain, link by link,
They are all worn out; they are breaking off.
The devil will be unhappy tonight,
There is no place for the devil to go,
In a forest, the devil will see a land full of thorns,
In a desert, the devil will see a barren wasteland,
Oh, fairies!
You can’t imagine,
Our city will be different.
The fortress doors will be left unfastened,
The slave-holders and the devils will be disgraced,
The enslaved will be freed,
The ruined will be rebuilt.
The people’s pain will be healed,
The rough straw rugs will be turned into silky carpets,
The slaves will be free.
The slaves have their wrath,
They pick their sickles,
Like a flood, they whoosh!
They become fire and burst into flames,
In the heart of an ugly night,
The fireworks are beautiful.
The fireworks are about to finish,
Not much left of the night,
The sunrise comes,
The freed slaves gather and seek out,
They collect the torches,
Oust the chain-makers,
Kill the heart of the night and end the devil’s darkness,
Brought the devil to the courtyard and taunted him,
They took each other hands and danced around,
They played hopscotch, duck, duck, goose, and tic-tac-toe.
Fairies, what are you crying about (the horseman asked)?
Can you stop your moaning?
Fairies said nothing.
They went on crying,
Their tears were like rain from spring clouds.
On the longest night of winter,
We used to sit around the Korsi (a stool-like frame of wood that is covered with blankets and under which a fire or charcoal is placed for heating)
Crack sunflower seeds,
Listen to the sound of rainfall in the gutters,
Our granny used to tell us stories about fairies with stripes,
About the yellow and green fairies,
The story of the patient’s stone,
The story of a goat on the roof,
The story of the king fairy’s daughter!
Are you those same fairies who have come to our world?
But here in our world,
You seem unhappy, sorry, nervous, and annoyed,
You think our world is empty and silly,
It’s nothing but pain.
Our world is not a fairy-tale place, the horseman said,
It isn’t filled with mysteries and happy endings,
Our world is obvious,
Our world has thorns,
Its deserts have snakes,
Whoever lives in our world knows these by heart,
Our world is big,
Our world is full of Jackals and wolfs,
It can blaze over your head,
It can crack under your foot,
Whether you like it or not,
This is what our world is.
Well, fairies of the tales,
The birds of broken wings,
Didn’t you have food or water?
Didn’t you have a better life?
What was wrong with your world?
Who asked you to leave your charming fortress?
Why did you make life hard for yourself and come into our complicated world?
The fairies said nothing,
They continued to cry,
Their tears were like rain from spring clouds.
I pat the fairies on their shoulders,
I wanted to help the fairies get back to their world,
But they screamed very loud,
They were enchanted, and soon they vanished,
When they went up, they became like silhouettes,
When they went down, they turned to light,
They became old; they became tears,
They became young; they became laughter,
They became masters; they become slaves,
They became fruit; they became the seed,
They became hope; they became desperate,
They became an ill omen,
Fairies saw none of their tricks worked on me.
I watched over their games; their ill-starred omen did not influence me,
When they realized their magic didn’t turn me into a zombie or stone,
Soon they transformed,
One of them became a glass of wine,
The other one became a sea,
The third one turned into a mountain and soared into the sky,
I sipped the wine,
Swam the sea, reached the coast on the other side,
Climbed the mountain and went to the summit,
(When the horseman reaches the top of the mountain, he sees his city on the other side of the mountain).
There was music, singing, and dancing.
Ha-Ha, we are happy!
We are free,
The sun starts shining,
Mr. Sunshine, shine on us!
We have ended injustice,
Now, freedom is our meaning.
After this run riot,
We have gained our living,
We are happy for always,
We will be slaves no more,
Our dreams come true,
We picked the golden apple,
We have made it to our home,
We went up; all were lies,
The stories of our granny all were tales,
We came down; all were unreal,
Our story was real,
Our story ended,
Let’s get together, walk around, and unlock the chains,
This is the end of our captivity.
About the Translator:
Nader Rahimi is an Associate Professor at Boston University and has extensively published in the biomedical field. In recent years, he has developed an interest in poetry; his first collection of poems, Songs of Being, published in 2021. He has also translated The Scarlet Stone and other selected poems of Persian Poet, Siavash Kasrai, which was published in 2024.
Artwork:
Detail from Sadeq Tabrizi’s “Riders“, gold leaf and mixed media on canvas
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