The literary world lost one of its most sensitive poets to COVID-19 in January 2021. Mr. Abbas Saffari (1951-2021) عباس صفاری was a poet, translator, editor, and artist.
I first met Mr. Saffari in 2005 when I had begun researching Iranian poets in diaspora for what became my bilingual anthology, Belonging: New Poetry by Iranians Around the World (North Atlantic Books, 2008). There was no central website or resource to consult, and the enormity of the task of getting a sense of who these poets were, where they had migrated to, and how to contact them, was palpable. Two poets, Partow Nooriala and Abbas Saffari offered help. I would travel to Long Beach to study in Mr. Saffari’s home library, where he had single copies of books published outside of Iran by small publishers of diaspora writers. Everything blossomed from this point on. I would cold-call poets whose phone numbers I had procured with much difficulty, one by one. Mr. Saffari immediately recognized what I was about and conferred respect and kindness upon me. He showed me his old camera collection, his wood cuts, his art. Mr. Saffari knew how to strike the balance between warm friendship and boundary, a most inviting quality for me, a young woman at the time. We grew deep mutual respect and trust and stayed in regular touch until his death.
I began translating his poetry, performing it (Four Springs, ICARUS/RISE), and making short film based on them. During one of my trips to Long Beach, I showed him the short film of “Tomorrow.” As soon as her saw the film, he turned to me and said, “کارتان اساسیست” — basically, that my work was serious, substantial. He also loved my translation of the poem.
Mr. Saffari's poetry was a reflection of his essence as a human being — accessible, honest, noble, tender, fresh, full of integrity. He was widely published, read, and beloved in Iran. I not only had the pleasure of translating and performing his poems, but of also inviting him to read at the Iranian Literary Arts Festival 2009 that I organized through my nonprofit at the time, The Translation Project, in partnership with the San Francisco International Poetry Festival and the Friends of the San Francisco Public Library. I also facilitated more exposure of his work through connecting him with Words Without Borders, PEN Dallas, and Rattapallax. My films of his poems screened at international poetry-film festivals. Here is a two-part interview he did (in Persian) about the film of “Tomorrow.”
Over the years, I had the benefit of his advice and friendship. My last correspondence with him was just before the pandemic as he recommended several young poets in Iran for me to consider translating. There is a reason why he was so widely loved. He was a real poet in life, in friendship, in humanity, in his every fiber. His passing leaves a big hole in my heart and in the literary world, and he will be sorely missed by many around the world.
“.نهایتا دل به جایی می رسد که دو راه بیشتر ندارد — یا باید خون شود یا سنگ”
“In the end, the heart arrives at a crossroads — to become blood or stone.” — Abbas Saffari
A talk about the process of translating the poem, “Tomorrow.”
