Disclaimer: this post contains very very VERY excellent pieces of Persian art :) Haha, this isn’t meant to be bragging though. Sigh but I still can’t finish being amazed of how neat these painting are done. And I’m soooo thankful that they’re in my collection in the form of postcards and folded cards.
From Parisa. This painting is titled Growth, made in 1992 by Mahmoud Farhcian. He’s a great miniaturist in Iran and has alot of magically beautiful works. This painting shows a pretty fairy-like girl giving “life” to a deer with a kiss. What is a miniaturist? Miniaturist is someone who paints tiny pictures in great detail. Well, these paintings say it all.
From Parisa. Entitled To Live, made in 1994 by Mahmoud Farhcian. His art are obviously of reality and fantasy blended together, it’s just amazing to think how much patience is needed to make such painting. Oh and please check his gallery at www.farshchianart.com!
From Ipuenktchen. It seems Persians produce a lot of miniature paintings. This one is probably from earlier time, which is now displayed in the Decorative Art Museum in Tehran. The card doesn’t state the painting’s title though.
From Ipuenktchen. Alright, this one is not a miniature but Iranian contemporary art. It shows a typical bazaar scene nowadays.
From Parisa. A cute painting, isn’t it? Darn this card is missing from the box so I couldn’t check its details. It was there yesterday!! Will edit this one later..
From Ipuenktchen. This is a wall painting. Or a painting made on a wall in this very luxury hotel named Abbasi Hotel in Esfahan.
From Parisa. This card has a Persian poem on the back, written in Persian, and English (though I’m not sure if it’s the literal translation or different poem altogether).
Where are the Tidings of Union?
Where are the tidings of union? that I may arise –
Forth from the dust I will rise up to welcome thee!
My soul, like a homing bird, yearning for Paradise,
Shall arise and soar, from the snares of the world set free.
When the voice of thy love shall call me to be thy slave,
I shall rise to a greater far than mastery
Of life and the living, time and the mortal span:
Pour down, oh Lord! from the clouds of thy guiding grace
The rain of a mercy that quickeneth oh my grave,
Before, like dust that the wind bears from place to place,
I arise and flee beyond the knowledge of man.
When to my grave thou turnest thy blessed feet,
Wine and the lute thou shalt bring in thine hand to me,
Thy voice shall ring through the folds of my winding-sheet,
And I will arise and dance to thy minstrelsy.
Though I be old, clasp me one night to thy breast,
And I, when the dawn shall come to awaken me.
With the flush of youth on my cheek in thy stately grace!
Thou art the goal to which all men’s endeavour has pressed,
And thou the idol of Hafiz worship; thy face
From the world and life shall bid him come forth and arise!
Gertude Bell
