Poem

دفتر چهارم - بخش ۵۱ - قصهٔ صوفی کی در میان گلستان سر به زانو مراقب بود یارانش گفتند سر برآور تفرج کن بر گلستان و ریاحین و مرغان و آثار رحمةالله تعالی / Book Four — Section 51 — Story of the Sufi Who, in the Midst of a Rose Garden, Was Absorbed in Contemplation with His Head upon His Knee; His Companions Said: 'Lift Your Head and Delight in the Rose Garden, the Fragrant Herbs, the Birds, and the Signs of God's Mercy, Exalted Be He'

Original content

صوفیی در باغ از بهر گشاد
صوفیانه روی بر زانو نهاد

پس فرو رفت او به خود اندر نغول
شد ملول از صورت خوابش فضول

که چه خسپی آخر اندر رز نگر
این درختان بین و آثار و خضر

امر حق بشنو که گفتست انظروا
سوی این آثار رحمت آر رو

گفت آثارش دلست ای بوالهوس
آن برون آثار آثارست و بس

باغها و سبزه‌ها در عین جان
بر برون عکسش چو در آب روان

آن خیال باغ باشد اندر آب
که کند از لطف آب آن اضطراب

باغها و میوه‌ها اندر دلست
عکس لطف آن برین آب و گلست

گر نبودی عکس آن سرو سرور
پس نخواندی ایزدش دار الغرور

این غرور آنست یعنی این خیال
هست از عکس دل و جان رجال

جمله مغروران برین عکس آمده
بر گمانی کین بود جنت‌کده

می‌گریزند از اصول باغها
بر خیالی می‌کنند آن لاغها

چونک خواب غفلت آیدشان به سر
راست بینند و چه سودست آن نظر

بس به گورستان غریو افتاد و آه
تا قیامت زین غلط وا حسرتاه

ای خنک آن را که پیش از مرگ مرد
یعنی او از اصل این رز بوی برد

English translation

Book Four — Section 51 — Story of the Sufi Who, in the Midst of a Rose Garden, Was Absorbed in Contemplation with His Head upon His Knee; His Companions Said: "Lift Your Head and Delight in the Rose Garden, the Fragrant Herbs, the Birds, and the Signs of God's Mercy, Exalted Be He"

A Sufi, in a garden for the sake of heart's expansion, Sufi-fashion, laid his face upon his knee.

Then he sank deep within himself in absorption; His impertinent companion grew weary of his apparent slumber —

"Why do you sleep? Come, look at the vineyard! Behold these trees, these signs, and the verdure!

Hear God's command, for He has said: 'Look!' Turn your face toward these signs of mercy."

He replied: "His true signs are the heart, O man of whims; Those outward signs are but traces of traces, nothing more.

Gardens and verdure exist in the very essence of the soul; Their outer reflection is like an image in flowing water.

That is the garden's image in the water, Which the grace of water sets into trembling agitation.

Gardens and fruits are within the heart; The reflection of that grace falls upon this water and clay.

Had there been no reflection of that cypress of delight, God would not have called this world the Dār al-Ghurūr — the Abode of Delusion.

This ghurūr — that is to say, this illusion — Is born from the reflection of the hearts and souls of men.

All the deluded have come in pursuit of this reflection, Supposing that this is the abode of paradise.

They flee from the original gardens And frolic over an illusion.

When the sleep of heedlessness reaches its end for them, They see truly — but what use is that sight?

Many a wail and lament has fallen in the graveyard — Until the Resurrection: 'Wā ḥasratāh — alas for this error!'

Blessed is the one who died before death — For he caught the scent of the origin of this vineyard."

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Updated 2026-05-09

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