Hafez Mousavi Information 5

I was born on March 6, 1955, in Rudbar, into a middle-class family. My father and older brother were interested in poetry and literature, and naturally, my family background influenced my inclination toward poetry. Over time, this inclination deepened. Our town was small and lacked many resources. Until 1968 or 1969, we didn’t even have a library. It was around that time when a library was established by the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults, which provided us—those with an interest in poetry and literature—with a significant opportunity. At this library, we formed a journalism group. We also formed the first poetry group with the library’s members, guided by a cultured and thoughtful librarian who helped us far beyond his duties. Eventually, with my friends in Rudbar, we formed a literary group called “Nima,” where we held regular poetry nights. Afterward, I moved to Tehran to continue my studies.

I came to Tehran in 1977 and studied Persian Language and Literature at the National University. The Cultural Revolution occurred shortly afterward, and I ended up staying in Tehran. In the early 1980s, the country was in a special situation, but eventually, new newspapers emerged, such as *Donyaye Sokhan* (World of Speech), *Takapo*, and *Gardoon*. It was during this time, at the age of forty, that I published my first collection of poetry in 1994, titled *Dasti be Shishehaye Meh Gerefteye Donya* (A Hand on the Fogged Glass of the World), which was well-received and won the *Gardoon* award.

During the 1990s, along with some friends, we formed a poetry group that later became known as the poets of the 1990s. After the passing of Manouchehr Atashi, I took over running the poetry workshop *Karnameh*, and with the students of this workshop, we started the poetry magazine *Vazna*.

When I came to Tehran in 1977, society was deeply caught up in political upheavals, and these political developments stirred the intellectual and academic communities, influencing literature as well. Until after the war, the situation wasn’t ideal for literary activities. Toward the end of the 1980s, the atmosphere opened up, newspapers were published, and the 1990s became a pinnacle for literature. Literature, having undergone a series of serious and sometimes contradictory experiences since Nima’s modernist movement, continued into the 1980s. But in the 1990s, with poetry leading the way, a significant transformation took place in literature, marking the second wave of modernism. During this period, universities were active, and intellectual movements and journalism flourished, creating a vibrant space, which I believe still exists but has not been thoroughly assessed.

Over the past 20-30 years, like many others, I have had to take on various jobs due to circumstances. At one point, I worked in finance and accounting, and later, I was drawn toward advertising and tourism. On the side, I collaborated with newspapers and magazines, taught poetry, and, like others, I’ve had to balance my poetry with other jobs out of necessity. However, I’ve been fortunate that my work environment has remained close to literature.

I began writing poetry instinctively, like many other poets. Iranian culture is quite receptive to expressing emotions and feelings through poetry. However, there’s a point in my poetry where I feel that reason plays a more significant role. Social themes are prevalent in my generation’s poetry, and in the 1970s and 1980s, my poetry was also influenced by social developments.

People have said that, during a certain period, my poetry exhibited a type of nature symbolism—not romanticism, but rather a poetic expression of simple issues. I have never blindly followed trends or new movements, always moving forward cautiously.

Each period has had a particular poem that has attracted me. However, the one that has consistently stood out to me is the opening poem from my collection *Satrehaye Penhani* (Hidden Lines), which gained wide recognition. For me, writing this poem was like overcoming a twenty- or twenty-five-year-old dream and nightmare, marking a new phase in my work. It’s easier for me to point out which poems I’m not satisfied with from each collection. If I were to rewrite *Poems of the Republic* today, I’d make some poems more concise. Out of the first collection, 10-15 poems still satisfy me.

Bibliography:

– Dasti be Shishehaye Meh Gerefteye Donya* (A Hand on the Fogged Glass of the World) – Winner of the Gardoon Award

– Satrehaye Penhani* (Hidden Lines)

– *She’rhaye Jomhouri* (Poems of the Republic)

– Zan, Tariki, Kalamat* (Woman, Darkness, Words)

– Khardeh Rizeh Khaterat va She’rhaye Khavarmiyaneh* (Fragments of Memories and Poems of the Middle East)

– Madian-e Siah* (The Black Mare)

– Hala Hekayate Hodhodha* (Now the Story of the Hoopoes)

– Vazhehaye Man* (My Words)

– Mohakeme dar Sokoot va Mokalemeh Gheyabi* (Trial in Silence and Remote Dialogue)

– Panoushtha dar Naqd va Barrasi Aareye Nima Youshij* (Footnotes on the Critique and Review of Nima Youshij’s Opinions)

– Luli-ye Moghmoom* (The Mournful Wanderer: The Life, Poetry, and Thought of Mehdi Akhavan-Sales)

– Doa Konid Satrhaye Asheghane az Yadamoon Nare* (Pray We Don’t Forget the Romantic Verses) – Selected Romantic Poems

– Farhange Modara* (The Culture of Tolerance) – Essays on Literature and Culture

– Anthology of Social Poetry of Iran*

– Majmooeh Ash’ar* (Collection of Poems) – Published by Negah

– Gozineh Ash’ar* (Selected Poems) – Published by Morvarid

– Gheseh-ye Paeiz va Nahale Holoo* (The Tale of Autumn and the Peach Sapling)