Umid Najjari, an accomplished poet born on April 15, 1989, in Tabriz, Iran, has established himself as a prominent voice in the realm of contemporary poetry. His works encompass a spectrum of themes, ranging from introspection and love to solitude and societal observations. With a diverse educational background spanning electronics and Azerbaijani literature, Najjari’s literary prowess reflects a nuanced understanding of both technical precision and emotional depth. This analysis delves into his poetic repertoire, deciphering the intricate layers that define his artistry.
Najjari’s versatility shines through in his ability to employ various styles and linguistic tools to convey his thoughts. His mastery over language is evident in the way he molds words to mirror his emotions. Lines like “Your eyes are like Bermuda Triangle / The gone never come back” and “The color of my voice is autumn / Falls from the boughs of love” evoke vivid imagery and emotional resonance. The poet’s usage of metaphors and similes, such as comparing the wind to a flag and leaves to bulletin papers, demonstrates his adeptness at blending the concrete and the abstract.
Najjari’s poetry often delves into profound intellectual explorations. In “The cemetery of letter,” he contemplates the relationship between the self and the world, with a focus on the plight of poets. The lines “Poets have been buried in the cemetery of letters” underscore the theme of artistic obscurity and the tension between self-expression and societal reception. The poem “Dying in another language” encapsulates the longing to shed one’s identity and live anew, highlighting the universal human desire for reinvention.
Through his poetry, Najjari becomes a keen observer of the society around him. The poem “The women never died for them” is a poignant commentary on the fleeting nature of relationships and the changes that individuals undergo over time. The poet captures the essence of transformation, growth, and the passage of time through his descriptions of encounters with women who once held his attention.
Najjari’s poetic journey extends across borders and languages, exemplified by his works being published in various countries and languages. This signifies his commitment to exploring cultural nuances and bridging gaps between diverse traditions. His poems published in languages like Serbian, Albanian, and Uzbekistan showcase a commitment to cultural exchange and an understanding of the global resonance of his art.
Najjari’s poems exhibit a meticulous technical approach. His use of meter, rhythm, and rhyme contributes to the musicality of his verses. For instance, the repetition of lines in “Breathless walls” reinforces the poem’s central theme of monotony and suffocation. His intentional manipulation of language and form serves to heighten the impact of his poems on the reader.
Umid Najjari’s engagement with various writers’ associations and his cross-cultural publication history reveal a poet who is attuned to both the local and global literary landscapes. His involvement with institutions like the IWA Bogdani International Writers Association positions him as an active contributor to the literary community, allowing him to receive critical feedback and engage in productive exchanges with fellow writers.
In conclusion, Umid Najjari’s poetry transcends geographical boundaries and linguistic barriers to delve into the depths of the human experience. His works demonstrate a profound understanding of both technical intricacies and emotional landscapes. Through his exploration of diverse themes and stylistic approaches, Najjari crafts a body of work that invites readers to contemplate existence, reflect on the passage of time, and explore the intricate tapestry of emotions that define our lives. His contribution to contemporary poetry is a testament to the power of language and its ability to connect us across cultures and generations. Here is the english translatration of Umid Najari’s poetry by Reza Hosseini Baghanam:
In this monotone life,
The walls are breathless
In this marathon
The white horses of my hairare short of breath
The meaning of the sun doesn’t change
The meaning of rented houses
Indifferent hands …
Only more than the coldness
When your pockets are cold
The seasons lose their meaning
Winter is cold in your pockets!
Like poplar who bends to see his shadow
I gazed into your eyes
Your eyes …
I’m a soldier who has lined his face to the cold wall of the trench
My bullets are words …
Place your eyes on mine!
We all are wounded in this war.
We’re all exiled in our land…
Place your eyes on mine!
Your eyes are like Bermuda Triangle
The gone never come back …
If you’re asked, respond:
The poet never came back!
The nights that I miss
Your voice is like a song that Lord recites
Comes like snow to my morning.
A piece of me has stayed far away
Under the rain
Those are gone from me, don’t have a “return” ticket
The storm is the nightmare of the trees on old nights
The fingerprint of a woman is shivering in the fancy of windows
A prisoner with hands like an elm leaf
Whose voice as light
In the name of the freedom
She may write this poem onthe wall of his cell
May give birth by the voice of pigeons instead of the sun this spring
Instead of the bullet wound of the girl in this war
May shot this poem into her heart …
“May”s are birds of pain in the sky of wishes
Fly … fly … and disappear.
The past of my hands are Greek Gods
Has been forgotten
Buried in the cemetery of history
My eyes were buried in your far beautifulness
Bury me with my loneliness in autumn colors
It’s autumn …
Leaves are bulletin of elections
The trees elect the death
By Rehmat Aziz Khan Chitrali