Poem

دفتر چهارم - بخش ۴۰ - خبر یافتن جد مصطفی عبدالمطلب از گم کردن حلیمه محمد را علیه‌السلام و طالب شدن او گرد شهر و نالیدن او بر در کعبه و از حق درخواستن و یافتن او محمد را علیه‌السلام / Book Four - Section 40 - The Grandfather of Mustafa, Abd al-Muttalib, Receiving News of Halima Losing Muhammad, Peace Be Upon Him, and His Searching Around the City, Lamenting at the Door of the Kaaba, Entreating God, and Finding Muhammad, Peace Be Upon Him

Original content

چون خبر یابید جد مصطفی
از حلیمه وز فغانش بر ملا

وز چنان بانگ بلند و نعره‌ها
که بمیلی می‌رسید از وی صدا

زود عبدالمطلب دانست چیست
دست بر سینه همی‌زد می‌گریست

آمد از غم بر در کعبه بسوز
کای خبیر از سر شب وز راز روز

خویشتن را من نمی‌بینم فنی
تا بود هم‌راز تو هم‌چون منی

خویشتن را من نمی‌بینم هنر
تا شوم مقبول این مسعود در

یا سر و سجدهٔ مرا قدری بود
یا باشکم دولتی خندان شود

لیک در سیمای آن در یتیم
دیده‌ام آثار لطفت ای کریم

که نمی‌ماند به ما گرچه ز ماست
ما همه مسیم و احمد کیمیاست

آن عجایبها که من دیدم برو
من ندیدم بر ولی و بر عدو

آنک فضل تو درین طفلیش داد
کس نشان ندهد به صد ساله جهاد

چون یقین دیدم عنایتهای تو
بر وی او دریست از دریای تو

من هم او را می شفیع آرم به تو
حال او ای حال‌دان با من بگو

از درون کعبه آمد بانگ زود
که هم‌اکنون رخ به تو خواهد نمود

با دو صد اقبال او محظوظ ماست
با دو صد طلب ملک محفوظ ماست

ظاهرش را شهرهٔ گیهان کنیم
باطنش را از همه پنهان کنیم

زر کان بود آب و گل ما زرگریم
که گهش خلخال و گه خاتم بریم

گه حمایلهای شمشیرش کنیم
گاه بند گردن شیرش کنیم

گه ترنج تخت بر سازیم ازو
گاه تاج فرقهای ملک‌جو

عشقها داریم با این خاک ما
زانک افتادست در قعدهٔ رضا

گه چنین شاهی ازو پیدا کنیم
گه هم او را پیش شه شیدا کنیم

صد هزاران عاشق و معشوق ازو
در فغان و در نفیر و جست و جو

کار ما اینست بر کوری آن
که به کار ما ندارد میل جان

این فضیلت خاک را زان رو دهیم
که نواله پیش بی‌برگان نهیم

زانک دارد خاک شکل اغبری
وز درون دارد صفات انوری

ظاهرش با باطنش گشته به جنگ
باطنش چون گوهر و ظاهر چو سنگ

ظاهرش گوید که ما اینیم و بس
باطنش گوید نکو بین پیش و پس

ظاهرش منکر که باطن هیچ نیست
باطنش گوید که بنماییم بیست

ظاهرش با باطنش در چالش‌اند
لاجرم زین صبر نصرت می‌کشند

زین ترش‌رو خاک صورتها کنیم
خندهٔ پنهانش را پیدا کنیم

زانک ظاهر خاک اندوه و بکاست
در درونش صد هزاران خنده‌هاست

کاشف السریم و کار ما همین
کین نهانها را بر آریم از کمین

گرچه دزد از منکری تن می‌زند
شحنه آن از عصر پیدا می‌کند

فضلها دزدیده‌اند این خاکها
تا مقر آریمشان از ابتلا

بس عجب فرزند کو را بوده است
لیک احمد بر همه افزوده است

شد زمین و آسمان خندان و شاد
کین چنین شاهی ز ما دو جفت زاد

می‌شکافد آسمان از شادیش
خاک چون سوسن شده ز آزادیش

ظاهرت با باطنت ای خاک خوش
چونک در جنگ‌اند و اندر کش‌مکش

هر که با خود بهر حق باشد به جنگ
تا شود معنیش خصم بو و رنگ

ظلمتش با نور او شد در قتال
آفتاب جانش را نبود زوال

هر که کوشد بهر ما در امتحان
پشت زیر پایش آرد آسمان

ظاهرت از تیرگی افغان کنان
باطن تو گلستان در گلستان

قاصد او چون صوفیان روترش
تا نیامیزند با هر نورکش

عارفان روترش چون خارپشت
عیش پنهان کرده در خار درشت

باغ پنهان گرد باغ آن خار فاش
کای عدوی دزد زین در دور باش

خارپشتا خار حارس کرده‌ای
سر چو صوفی در گریبان برده‌ای

تا کسی دوچار دانگ عیش تو
کم شود زین گلرخان خارخو

طفل تو گرچه که کودک‌خو بدست
هر دو عالم خود طفیل او بدست

ما جهانی را بدو زنده کنیم
چرخ را در خدمتش بنده کنیم

گفت عبدالمطلب کین دم کجاست
ای علیم السر نشان ده راه راست

English translation

When the grandfather of Muṣṭafā received news From Ḥalīma and her public lamentation, And from such loud cries and shrieks That her sound reached a mile away, ʿAbd al-Muṭṭalib quickly understood what it was— He struck his chest and wept. He came in grief, burning, to the door of the Kaʿba: O You who know the secrets of night and the mysteries of day, I see no craft in myself That one like me could be Your confidant, I see no virtue in myself To become accepted at this blessed door. Either my head and prostration have some worth, Or through my belly a fortune would smile open. But in the countenance of that orphaned child I have seen the signs of Your grace, O Generous One— He does not resemble us, though he is from us: We are all copper, and Aḥmad is the philosopher's stone. Those wonders that I have seen upon him I have not seen upon friend or foe. What Your grace gave him in this infancy No one could attain through a hundred years of striving. Since I have certainly seen Your favors upon him— He is a door from Your sea— I too bring him as intercessor to You: O Knower of states, tell me of his condition.

From within the Kaʿba a voice came swiftly: Right now he will show his face to you. With two hundred fortunes, he is Our delight; With two hundred seekers, the kingdom is protected by Us. His outward We will make renowned throughout the world; His inward We will conceal from all. Gold in the mine was water and clay; We are goldsmiths Who sometimes fashion it into an anklet, sometimes a signet ring, Sometimes We make it into sword-belts, Sometimes the collar-chain of a lion, Sometimes We fashion a throne-medallion from it, Sometimes a crown for the heads of kingdom-seekers. We hold love for this earth, Because it has fallen into the station of acceptance. Sometimes We bring forth such a king from it, Sometimes We make even him frenzied before the King. Hundreds of thousands of lovers and beloveds from it In lamentation, outcry, and seeking— This is Our work, despite those Whose souls have no inclination toward Our work.

We give this excellence to earth for this reason: That We may place morsels before the destitute, For earth has an outwardly dusty form, Yet inwardly possesses the qualities of light. Its outward has gone to war with its inward: Its inward like a jewel, its outward like stone. Its outward says: we are only this, nothing more; Its inward says: look well at what came before and after. Its outward denies: the inward is nothing; Its inward says: we will reveal twenty-fold. Outward and inward are in contest— From this patience, inevitably, victory is drawn. From this sour-faced earth We fashion forms; We make manifest its hidden laughter. For earth's outward is grief and weeping, But within it are hundreds of thousands of laughters. We are the Revealer of Secrets, and this is Our work: To bring these hidden things out from ambush. Though the thief conceals himself through denial, The constable reveals him from evidence. These earths have stolen excellences— Until We bring them to confession through trial.

Many a wondrous child has been born from it, But Aḥmad has surpassed them all. Earth and heaven became laughing and glad That such a king was born from us two, a pair. Heaven splits open from joy at him; Earth has become like the lily through his liberation.

Your outward with your inward, O sweet earth, Since they are in war and in struggle— Whoever is at war with himself for the sake of Ḥaqq, So that his meaning becomes the enemy of scent and color, His darkness came into battle with his light: The sun of his soul shall know no setting. Whoever strives for Our sake through trial, Heaven will bring its back beneath his feet. Your outward lamenting from its darkness, Your inward a rose-garden within rose-garden.

His emissary is like the Sufis—sour-faced, So they may not mingle with every light-extinguisher. The knowers are sour-faced like the hedgehog, Having hidden their joy within coarse thorns. The garden hidden, around the garden those thorns manifest: O enemy-thief, stay far from this door! O hedgehog, you have made thorns your guard, You have drawn your head into your collar like a Sufi, So that whoever encounters a fraction of your joy Is spared from these rose-faced, thorn-habited ones.

Your child, though childlike in manner, Both worlds are indeed dependent upon him. We will make a world alive through him; We will make the celestial sphere a servant in his service.

ʿAbd al-Muṭṭalib said: Where is he now? O ʿAlīm al-Sirr, show the right path.

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Updated 2026-05-16

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