
Ten Compositions by Houshang Ebtehaj – A Private Selection of Ebtehaj’s Best Compositions
The selection of compositions is based on personal taste.
Amir Houshang Ebtehaj (born March 6, 1928, in Rasht), known by his pen name H.A. Sayeh, is an Iranian poet and researcher. He published his first work, “First Melodies,” in 1946. Another of his works is the composition Sepideh (Iran, O Land of Hope). He also has a history of working in radio on the Golha program and founding the musical program Golchin-e Hafteh.
1: Sargoshteh (Bewildered), with the voice of Hossein Qavami and music by Homayoun Khorram
2: Ta To Ba Mani (While You Are With Me), with the voice of Sima Bina and music by Javad Maroufi
3: Be Yade Aref (In Memory of Aref), with the voice of Mohammadreza Shajarian and music by Mohammadreza Lotfi and arrangement by Javad Maroufi
4: Koocheh Sar Shab (Alley of the Night), with the voice of Mohammadreza Shajarian and music by Mohammadreza Lotfi and arrangement by Fereydoun Shahbazian
5: Namadegan va Raftegan (The Arrived and Departed), with the voice of Mohammadreza Shajarian and music by Mohammadreza Lotfi
6: Ey Asheghan (O Lovers), with the voice of Mohammadreza Shajarian and music by Keyhan Kalhor
7: Deli Dar Atash (A Heart on Fire), with the voice of Alireza Eftekhari and music by Mehrdad Pazouki
8: Arghavan (Judas Tree), with the voice of Alireza Ghorbani and music by Mahyar Alizadeh
9: Ghamgosar (Consoler), with the voice of Homayoun Shajarian and music by Mohammadjavad Zarabian
10: Ey Asheghan (O Lovers), with the voice of M.M. and music by Mohammadreza Lotfi
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The night I heard the sound of your flute,
I ran after you like a thirsty deer.
I ran and ran until I reached the edge of the spring,
I saw no sign of the flute or the melody.
Where are you, O fairy, that you do not show your face?
From that hidden paradise, you do not open a door.
I have searched for you everywhere,
I have taken a sign from the moon of Mehr (October).
I have smelled your scent from the rose,
I have grasped the skirt of the rose for that.
Where are you, O fairy, that you do not show your face?
From that hidden paradise, you do not open a door.
My heart is bewildered by you, my breath is imbued with you,
In the garden of dreams, I smell you like a flower.
On the water and mirror, I seek you like the moon.
Where are you, O fairy?
On this Yalda night, I wander in search of you.
In sleep and wakefulness, I speak of you.
Where are you, O fairy?
The moon and stars know my pain,
That like me, they wander after you.
One night, appear by the spring,
Open up like a flower in the midst of my tears.
Where are you, O fairy, that you do not show your face?
From that hidden paradise, you do not open a door.
🎶🎶🎶🎶
As long as you are with me, the world is with me,
Luck and fulfillment are eternally with me.
You are the captivating spring, and I am like a garden,
The fervor and passion of a hundred buds are with me.
Your delightful memory, O hope of my soul,
Wherever I go, it travels with me.
If the coquettish smile of the morning is yours,
The sorrow of the nightly weeping is with me.
Though there is no pleasure, cup, or harp,
Dancing, intoxication, and song are with me.
I told him my wish, he said with a laugh,
Supplication is from you, and pretext is from me.
I told him I am that unruly steed,
He laughed and said the whip is with me.
Whomever has grasped the skirt of need,
The coyness of his eyes is with me.
Your sweet sleep has fled, O fairy,
Good night to you, for the night of tales is with me.
🎶🎶🎶🎶
Sit in my memory one night, moisten a lip from this wine,
For remembering friends is pleasant.
Remind this weary one, for this captive bird,
Remembering the spring is pleasant.
A bird that cried out, in the cage every breath,
Spent a lifetime painting a flower on the cage with the blood of its heart, remember it well.
The Aref gave, gave with a wounded heart, Aref was born with a wounded heart, O heart.
O nightingales, when in this garden, the time of flowers arrives, remember this autumn.
When that pleasant spring sprouts, by the flower’s side, remember us too.
O heart, Aref was born with a wounded heart.
If Aref gave his weary life to the rose’s love,
He taught the nightingales the lesson of love in this garden.
If you desire the skirt of the rose, O beloved, O beloved,
Do not fear the thorns that come to your life’s end.
The Aref gave, gave with a wounded heart.
🎶🎶🎶🎶
In this desolate abode, no one knocks on the door,
In our melancholy plain, no bird flutters.
One of those caught by the night does not light a lamp,
No one in the alley of the night knocks at dawn.
I sit waiting for this dust without a rider,
Alas, from such a night, no dawn breaks.
It is a passage full of oppression, in which, other than sorrow,
No one calls out a greeting to the passerby.
What answer do you expect from these closed windows?
Go, for no one shouts a call into deaf ears.
I have neither shadow nor fruit, it is right to cast me down,
Otherwise, no one strikes a tree with an ax.
🎶🎶🎶🎶
The arrived and departed from the two shores of time,
Run towards you, behold, O you who are always in the midst.
Before you, I tear my clothes, I cry out that I am at the door,
I came to see you, but weeping does not give me leave.
O flower of the rose garden, come out from behind the curtains,
Your scent draws me to the garden at dawn.
Ah, what bursts forth from the head and chest is a wave of blood,
What can I do when from within, your hand draws the bow?
Before your existence, what sorrow have the living and the dead from nothingness?
For from your breath, moment by moment, we hear the scent of life.
Ah, what bursts forth from the head and chest is a wave of blood,
What can I do when from within, your hand draws the bow?
Whatever I look around myself in this garden,
The mirror of my heart shows nothing but you.
🎶🎶🎶🎶
O lovers, O lovers, fill the goblets with blood,
And from the blood of the heart, like tulips, make the faces rosy.
One fiery rider came, leaped out of this fortress,
So that a new sun may rise, cast the night out of yourselves.
How much of the blood of our hearts goes from the vat into the jug,
O witnesses of the feast of vengeance, fill the goblets with blood.
I saw in a dream in the middle of the night, the sun and moon lip to lip,
How do you interpret this strange dream, O those who rise at dawn?
When the madman rebels, he will break the chains and prison,
Make a ring from the lock of Layli’s hair around Majnun’s neck.
🎶🎶🎶🎶
What sorrow has one who is nurtured by flame within from silence?
That a hundred suns have taken fire from my cold ashes.
You gave me to the wind and are happy, come, O night, and watch,
That the plain of the sky has become a sea of fire from my dust.
A fiery and stormy, air has fallen within me,
That like a ring of fire, I spin in this whirlpool.
In longing for a life-giving ruby, that the cure of the world is with him,
What a storm this wave of blood causes in my heart full of pain.
Loyalty is the way of love for men and self-sacrificers,
How unworthy I am if I turn back from this blood-stained path.
In those stormy nights when the world was upside down,
I secretly nurtured the night lamp of love in my heart.
Arise, O hidden seed, raise your head from the winter sleep,
For from every particle of the heart, I have spread a sun for you.
From goodness, I poured pure water on the hands of the ill-wishers,
I cast a heart into the fire, I brought forth a Siavash (a figure in Persian mythology who was unjustly burned).
Illuminate the lamp of your eyes, for I, like the shadow of night until day,
Was borrowing fire from the ashes-sitting chest.
🎶🎶🎶🎶
Arghavan (Judas Tree), my branch of blood, separated from me,
What color is your sky today?
Is the weather sunny,
Or still overcast?
I, in this corner that is outside the world,
Have no sky above me.
I have no news of spring.
In this silent, forgotten corner,
A colorful memory in my mind
Stirs weeping, stirs weeping.
My Arghavan is there,
My Arghavan is alone,
My Arghavan is crying.
Arghavan
What is this secret that every spring
Comes with the mourning of our hearts?
Arghavan, Arghavan,
You be raised high,
You sing my unsung melody,
You sing, you sing.
You sing
🎶🎶🎶🎶
How lonely you remained, O heart! Neither sorrow, nor a consoler,
Neither in anticipation of a friend, nor expecting anything from a friend.
If I tell the mountain of sorrow, it will flee and fall,
For I can no longer bear such heaviness.
What light does my heart expect from nights and days,
That in its seven heavens, there is not a single star?
My heart! How unfortunate it was that you remained so idle,
What skill can I employ when there is no time left for work?
It did not happen that a fish would shed its light on you,
Break the glass heart, for nothing remains but dust.
All my life I was an eye, hoping that a flower would laugh,
Become blood, O hope, for a thorn has pierced.
My dawn has drawn a dagger, asking: Why did your night not kill you?
You kill me so that I may never pass through the night again.
From the tears like rain, what shall I gain from you?
For you remained like a dark stone all your life on a grave.
Since you do not bestow life in life, you are the sin of life,
Let it die alive in your embrace.
My back is not broken in such a way that I can rise again,
I am that old tree that had no leaves or fruit.
Take the shelterless head of old age to your side and pass on,
For nothing but death will open a shore for you.
Sit in the sunset of this desert, lonely and alone,
Look at the loyalty of friends, who abandon companionship.
