The Idol Maker by Nader Naderpour, Tehran, March 1957, From the collection The Grape Poem (She‘r-e Angour). Translated by Farhad Mafie, October 1988

THE IDOL MAKER

To: Dr. Hooshang Shafa

I am an old sculptor and with the chisel of my imagination
one night I created you from the marble of my poem
and placed in the jewels of your eyes the desire
I bought from a thousand black eyes.

On your form, so tempting to be caressed,
I splashed moonlight’s foamy wine.
To protect you from the evil eye,
I stole the sight of the envious.

To give you an alluring figure,
I reached my needy hands in every direction
From every woman I borrowed a supple curve,
From every dancer I stole a graceful move.

But you, the idol, snubbed the idol maker,
made me bow at your feet.
You, drunk with the wine of pride, are insensitive to my sorrow
as if you’ve rejected your maker.

Beware! Because behind this veil of need
is a capricious idol maker.
One night the wrath of my love may drive me mad
and the shadows will watch as I shatter you as well!