Ahmad Hardi was born in 1922 into a family of
intellectuals in the City of Sulemani. His name is
Ahmad, the son of Hassan Bag the son of Aziz Bag
the son of Karim Bagzada. Hardi taught and lectured
at the University of Sulemani and later in Salahadin.
After the liberation of Iraq Hardi returned to Kurdistan
where he left us on November 29, 2006.
Modern Kurdish poetry has been significantly
influenced by Hardi despite the fact that he
has not written extensively. He possesses a deep
knowledge of Kurdish, Arabic, and Persian
literature, particularly classical literature.
Hardi’s book of poetry was first published in 1957 and reprinted in 1984. The second edition contains some new poems and updated interpretations of previous poems.
Hardi produces beautiful poetry through carefully chosen and original words and phrases. His talent for weaving internal melodies into his poetry has led to many of his poems being turned into songs. Hardi has created some powerful poetic images, which are all original and utilised some original glossary for his poetry.
Hardi wrote most of his poetry in his youth which may explain why there is a theme of loneliness and disappointment in them.
A life of harsh sorrows has killed the butterfly of my desire
Spilling the wine in the love-glass of my youth
The mist of the bleak days has become so dark
The love scenes of my heart were cloaked in despair
Lonely nights have smothered the flame of my hope-candle
The hopeless-hands have strangled the euphoria of my innermost melodies
And now, exposing the wounds
Of my distressed emotions
I wonder in the mazes of my soul’’s wilderness
In the dark nights of my loneliness, I retrace my steps blindly
There is no hand that can rescue me from this abandonned grave
There is no beauty to lend her soft heart for my stressed head
Or to release my exhaustion on her warm lap
My weak eyes gaze bewildered into the dark nights
There are no two vivid eyes to illuminate my avenues
Except for sad wings
And scary nights
There is no light
There is no a single princes who pushes me her desire
Her secrets revives my dieing and crumpled talent
Her laughter removes the gloomy fog on my eyes
Keep me content in a way crying baby comfort
Yes, when I listen except for my distressed heart
Which quietly reveals my deep hidden mysteries
There is no sound
Neither beating of wings nor sighing of breath
Written in Sulemani in 1951
(Transalated) - By Dr Rebwar Fatah | 20/09/2002
Translated from Sorani Kurdish and adopted to English language by Dr Rebwar Fatah
When the secret of lips and the secret of eyes unite
Ahmad Hardi - London, 17/9/1998
A time when the god of love whispers to her ears
Perhaps then he can reveal some secret thoughts
But it is a pair of eyes with one thousand and one mysteries
You can unravel one, but one thousand remain hidden
But the image of two faces looking at each other
Expressing all the said and unsaid intimate feelings of heart
Then, it is a sort of feeling that fills a world
It is an old love which will never have an end.