Gholam-Hossein Sa’edi: The Garbage Dump [Ashghaldouni]
Gholam-Hossein Sa’edi: The Garbage Dump [Ashghaldouni] When we turned into the next alley, I was completely irritated and angry. My anger at my father had reached boiling point and I was itching to provoke him, to make him angry and shake him to his foundations. My father was stubborn, unfair, never showed consideration for others […]
Jalal Al-e Ahmad: The Life Which Fled [Zendegi ke Gorikht]
Jalal Al-e Ahmad: The Life Which Fled [Zendegi ke Gorikht] The sun’s heat tormented the mind and deserted the road along the riverbank. Coming and going was impeded, as if it had paused. On the other side of the river, amidst the palm groves, a mist seemed to dance — a mist interwoven with dust. […]
Throne of Solomon [Takht-e Abunasr] By Sadeq Hedayat
![Throne of Solomon [Takht-e Abunasr]](https://alisalami.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/Sadeq-Hedayat-Abji-Khanum.webp)
Throne of Solomon [Takht-e Abunasr] In the second year of the excavations at the Metropolitan Museum of Chicago near Shiraz, on the hill of “Takht-e Abunasr”,” scientific investigations were carried out. But apart from the cramped and acidic tombs, which often contained the bones of several people, nothing worth mentioning had been discovered except red […]
Madeline By Sadeq Hedayat
The other evening I was there, in the little parlor. Her mother and sister were also present, the mother in gray and the daughters in red, matching the crimson velvet of the sofas. I leaned my elbow on the piano and watched them. There was silence, except for the needle of the gramophone playing the […]
In a Coffin Made of Nothing, Carried on the Shoulders of No One By Amin Faghiri
He has built himself a room in the center of the world, surrounded by a wasteland of sand and wind. Perhaps now and then, when he goes up on the roof and shields his eyes with his hand, he sees the tree of his childhood and perhaps birds sit on this tree whose species he […]
Manifestation (Tajalli) By Sadeq Hedayat
As dusk began to weave its shadowy carpet across the sky, Hasmik pulled the brim of her hat down to cover her eyebrows and pulled the collar of her cloak closer, as if to ward off the encroaching cold. With swift, deliberate steps, she made her way home, her mind so ensnared by confused thoughts […]
Buried Alive [Zendeh Be Goor] By Sadeq Hedayat
![Buried Alive [Zendeh Be Goor] By Sadeq Hedayat](https://alisalami.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/Sadeq-Hedayat-1024x576.jpeg)
My breath escapes me in ragged gaspings, tears run from my eyes, a bitter taste lingers in my mouth. My head spins, my heart clenches, my body lies exhausted, beaten, limp, weak on the bed. My arms, covered in marks from the injections, bear witness to my misery. The bed reeks of sweat and the […]
The Vortex (Gerdab) By Sadeq Hedayat
Homayoun muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper, “Can it really be? Is it conceivable? So young, she lies there in Shah Abdol Azim among thousands of other departed souls, nestled in the damp, cold earth… The shroud that envelops her. Never again will she experience the beginning of spring or the end of […]
The Behind-the-Curtain Doll By Sadeq Hedayat [Arusak Posht-e Pardeh]
The summer vacation had begun. In the corridor of the boys’ grammar school in Le Havre, the boarders left the school whistling and cheering with their suitcases in their hands. Only Mehrdad was standing still, holding his hat like a merchant whose ship had sunk, looking despairingly at his suitcase. The principal with his bald […]
The Last Day By Bahram Beyzai
As the 48-year-old Iranian writer Sadeq Hedayat makes his way to his apartment in the 18th arrondissement at 37 Rue Championnet bis on a gloomy afternoon in Paris, he meets two men who are waiting for him. They immediately inquire whether he has returned from the police station and whether he has received the necessary […]
The Chicken Coop By Mohammad Mohammadali
The phone rang. It was Kashefi. “What’s the status of Mr. Vali’s retirement?” “It’s likely to be finalized today or tomorrow.” “I’ve been considering something for him.” “Thank you for remembering our request, sir!” “Just a question, is he fit for strenuous work?” “Don’t be deceived by his bulky and flabby appearance; he single-handedly oversees […]
The Autumn-Stricken Valley By Jalal Al-e Ahmad
In the afternoon, the final whistle of the mine sounded traditionally in the cold, misty valleys of Zirab. The sound meandered everywhere: it snaked through the branches of the barren trees, slipped under the iron roofs and wooden cladding visible along the valleys, and penetrated the long, dark tunnels where it turned people’s lives into […]
Hajji Murad By Sadeq Hedayat
Hajji Murad stepped from the threshold of his store with a bold leap, smoothed the folds of his robe and fastened his silver belt before running his fingers through his henna-stained beard. He summoned his apprentice Hassan with a shout. Together they secured the store for the day. From the depths of his generous pocket, […]
The Darkroom By Sadeq Hedayat
During our moonlit journey through Khonsar, we were joined by a man wrapped in his dark raincoat with his wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his forehead, apparently to shield himself from the outside world and avoid conversation with his fellow travelers. He had a parcel tucked under his arm and carried it with him throughout […]
I Swear I am not a Whore by Houshang Golshiri
It was 4:30 p.m., and not everyone was expected to arrive until 5:00 pm. The table was almost ready, all that was missing was some ice, cucumber yogurt, a can opener, and the like. Moqaddasi, who lived just two streets away, could help us if he managed to come. He had the job of bringing […]
Customs and Taxes By Jalal Al-e Ahmad
At the border checkpoint, the process was efficient. My identity was verified by comparing my photograph to my face, and upon presenting my recently acquired smallpox vaccination certificate from Khorramshahr, which cost two tomans, I was allowed entry. A diligent policeman took charge of my suitcase, escorting me to the riverbank a short distance away. […]
Eternity By Mohammad Ali Jamalzadeh
It was Friday and the offices were closed for the day. In keeping with tradition, I paid a visit to my venerable companion. He was sitting alone at his desk, which was also his sleeping quarters, and was busy examining a shoehorn lying in the middle of the desk. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, […]
Someone Else’s Child By Jalal Al-e Ahmad
What could I do? My husband was unwilling to take care of the child with me. The child, from my previous marriage, was not his, and my ex-husband had refused to take the child. What would someone else in my situation have done? I had to live my life too. If my current husband also […]
The Disgrace of Poverty by Iraj Pezeshkzad
Abolfath Khan, a friend of ours, bought a house for eighty-five thousand tomans. While this amount may seem trivial today, his friends and family considered it significant enough to warrant a celebration. However, Abolfath Khan opted for a modest gathering and invited ten to fifteen close and distant friends for tea and sweets to celebrate […]
The East of the Violet By Shahriar Mandanipour
Now that the veil has been lifted from the secrets hidden in the sentences you have read, now that every point of these words is before you, may the sweetness of Minoo’s wine caress your lips. For though fate has allotted you a portion of the bitter brew of this world, it has also endowed […]
The Story of my Glasses By Rasoul Parvizi
The event is so vivid that it penetrates the shadows of my memory and shines bright as daylight. It feels like it happened just hours ago and is still at the forefront of my memories. Until eighth grade, I considered eyeglasses a sign of foreign sophistication, much like education and neckties, worn by civilized people […]
Lucifer: A Short Story by Reza Joulaee [English Translation]
The firmament glowed with an ominous hue, an ethereal crimson that cast an eerie pallor upon the desolate landscape. Gusts of wind, laden with particles of earth, swirled with an almost mournful grace, rustling the parched branches of the trees. Sensing the impending tempest, the man hastened to secure his surroundings, his hands deftly manipulating […]
Gholamhossein Sa’edi: The Game is Over [English Translation]
Gholam-Hossein Sa’edi was a celebrated Iranian writer who made a significant contribution to the country’s literature and cinema. Born on January 15, 1936, in Tabriz, he went on to become one of the most prolific writers of his time, publishing over forty books across a wide range of genres. The Game is Over is translated […]
Rasoul Parvizi: The Patched Pants [Shalvarhay-e Vasleh Dar]
Oh, joy and gloom were locked in a fierce battle. Our schoolyard was a chaotic mixture of laughter and tears. A student might walk down the hallway with a glum look on his face, but as soon as he stepped into the courtyard, he was enveloped in a cloud of mirth and laughed along with […]
Abbas Maroufi : A Moonlit Night [A Short Story]
About the Author Born in 1957 in Tehran, Abbas Maroufi was raised and educated in Tehran. He studied dramatic arts at Tehran University while teaching at schools and writing for the newspapers. He served as the editor in chief of the literary Gardun magazine from 1990 to 1995. His first published work was a collection […]
Sadeq Hedayat: Dash Akol [English Translation]
It was common knowledge in Shiraz that Dash Akol and Kaka Rostam harbored a deep hatred for each other. On one particular day, Dash Akol was sitting on a bench in the teahouse of Domil – one of his old haunts – with a quail cage next to him, covered by a red blanket. With […]