1Cademy - دفتر چهارم - بخش ۴۶ - باز آمدن آن شاعر بعد چند سال به امید همان صله و هزار دینار فرمودن بر قاعدهٔ خویش و گفتن وزیر نو هم حسن نام شاه را کی این سخت بسیارست و ما را خرجهاست و خزینه خالیست و من او را بده یک آن خشنود کنم / Book Four - Section 46 - The return of that poet after a few years in hope of the same bounty, and the kings ordering a thousand dinars according to his custom, and the new vizier, who was also named Hasan, telling the king, This is very much, and we have expenses, and the treas

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مثنوی معنوی: دفتر چهارم / Masnavi: Book Four
دفتر چهارم - بخش ۴۵ - قصهٔ شاعر و صله دادن شاه و مضاعف کردن آن وزیر بوالحسن نام / Book Four - Section 45 - The Tale of the Poet and the King Giving a Reward and Its Doubling by the Vizier Named Abu'l-Hasan

Poem

دفتر چهارم - بخش ۴۶ - باز آمدن آن شاعر بعد چند سال به امید همان صله و هزار دینار فرمودن بر قاعدهٔ خویش و گفتن وزیر نو هم حسن نام شاه را کی این سخت بسیارست و ما را خرجهاست و خزینه خالیست و من او را بده یک آن خشنود کنم / Book Four - Section 46 - The return of that poet after a few years in hope of the same bounty, and the king's ordering a thousand dinars according to his custom, and the new vizier, who was also named Hasan, telling the king, 'This is very much, and we have expenses, and the treas

Original content

بعد سالی چند بهر رزق و کشت
شاعر از فقر و عوز محتاج گشت

گفت وقت فقر و تنگی دو دست
جست و جوی آزموده بهترست

درگهی را که آزمودم در کرم
حاجت نو را بدان جانب برم

معنی الله گفت آن سیبویه
یولهون فی الحوائج هم لدیه

گفت الهنا فی حوائجنا الیک
والتمسناها وجدناها لدیک

صد هزاران عاقل اندر وقت درد
جمله نالان پیش آن دیان فرد

هیچ دیوانهٔ فلیوی این کند
بر بخیلی عاجزی کدیه تند

گر ندیدندی هزاران بار بیش
عاقلان کی جان کشیدندیش پیش

بلک جملهٔ ماهیان در موجها
جملهٔ پرندگان بر اوجها

پیل و گرگ و حیدر اشکار نیز
اژدهای زفت و مور و مار نیز

بلک خاک و باد و آب و هر شرار
مایه زو یابند هم دی هم بهار

هر دمش لابه کند این آسمان
که فرو مگذارم ای حق یک زمان

استن من عصمت و حفظ تو است
جمله مطوی یمین آن دو دست

وین زمین گوید که دارم بر قرار
ای که بر آبم تو کردستی سوار

جملگان کیسه ازو بر دوختند
دادن حاجت ازو آموختند

هر نبیی زو برآورده برات
استعینوا منه صبرا او صلات

هین ازو خواهید نه از غیر او
آب در یم جو مجو در خشک جو

ور بخواهی از دگر هم او دهد
بر کف میلش سخا هم او نهد

آنک معرض را ز زر قارون کند
رو بدو آری به طاعت چون کند

بار دیگر شاعر از سودای داد
روی سوی آن شه محسن نهاد

هدیهٔ شاعر چه باشد شعر نو
پیش محسن آرد و بنهد گرو

محسنان با صد عطا و جود و بر
زر نهاده شاعران را منتظر

پیششان شعری به از صدتنگ شعر
خاصه شاعر کو گهر آرد ز قعر

آدمی اول حریص نان بود
زانک قوت و نان ستون جان بود

سوی کسب و سوی غصب و صد حیل
جان نهاده بر کف از حرص و امل

چون بنادر گشت مستغنی ز نان
عاشق نامست و مدح شاعران

تا که اصل و فصل او را بر دهند
در بیان فضل او منبر نهند

تا که کر و فر و زر بخشی او
هم چو عنبر بو دهد در گفت و گو

خلق ما بر صورت خود کرد حق
وصف ما از وصف او گیرد سبق

چونک آن خلاق شکر و حمدجوست
آدمی را مدح جویی نیز خوست

خاصه مرد حق که در فضلست چست
پر شود زان باد چون خیک درست

ور نباشد اهل زان باد دروغ
خیک بدریدست کی گیرد فروغ

این مثل از خود نگفتم ای رفیق
سرسری مشنو چو اهلی و مفیق

این پیمبر گفت چون بشنید قدح
که چرا فربه شود احمد به مدح

رفت شاعر پیش آن شاه و ببرد
شعر اندر شکر احسان کان نمرد

محسنان مردند و احسانها بماند
ای خنک آن را که این مرکب براند

ظالمان مردند و ماند آن ظلمها
وای جانی کو کند مکر و دها

گفت پیغامبر خنک آن را که او
شد ز دنیا ماند ازو فعل نکو

مرد محسن لیک احسانش نمرد
نزد یزدان دین و احسان نیست خرد

وای آنکو مرد و عصیانش نمود
تا نپنداری به مرگ او جان ببرد

این رها کن زانک شاعر بر گذر
وام دارست و قوی محتاج زر

برد شاعر شعر سوی شهریار
بر امید بخشش و احسان پار

نازنین شعری پر از در درست
بر امید و بوی اکرام نخست

شاه هم بر خوی خود گفتش هزار
چون چنین بد عادت آن شهریار

لیک این بار آن وزیر پر ز جود
بر براق عز ز دنیا رفته بود

بر مقام او وزیر نو رئیس
گشته لیکن سخت بی رحم و خسیس

گفت ای شه خرجها داریم ما
شاعری را نبود این بخشش جزا

من به ربع عشر این ای مغتنم
مرد شاعر را خوش و راضی کنم

خلق گفتندش که او از پیش دست
ده هزاران زین دلاور برده است

بعد شکر کلک خایی چون کند
بعد سلطانی گدایی چون کند

گفت بفشارم ورا اندر فشار
تا شود زار و نزار از انتظار

آنگه ار خاکش دهم از راه من
در رباید هم چو گلبرگ از چمن

این به من بگذار که استادم درین
گر تقاضاگر بود هر آتشین

از ثریا گر بپرد تا ثری
نرم گردد چون ببیند او مرا

گفت سلطانش برو فرمان تراست
لیک شادش کن که نیکوگوی ماست

گفت او را و دو صد اومیدلیس
تو به من بگذار این بر من نویس

پس فکندش صاحب اندر انتظار
شد زمستان و دی و آمد بهار

شاعر اندر انتظارش پیر شد
پس زبون این غم و تدبیر شد

گفت اگر زر نه که دشنامم دهی
تا رهد جانم ترا باشم رهی

انتظارم کشت باری گو برو
تا رهد این جان مسکین از گرو

بعد از آنش داد ربع عشر آن
ماند شاعر اندر اندیشهٔ گران

کانچنان نقد و چنان بسیار بود
این که دیر اشکفت دستهٔ خار بود

پس بگفتندش که آن دستور راد
رفت از دنیا خدا مزدت دهاد

که مضاعف زو همی شد آن عطا
کم همی افتاد بخشش را خطا

این زمان او رفت و احسان را ببرد
او نمرد الحق بلی احسان بمرد

رفت از ما صاحب راد و رشید
صاحب سلاخ درویشان رسید

رو بگیر این را و زینجا شب گریز
تا نگیرد با تو این صاحب ستیز

ما به صد حیلت ازو این هدیه را
بستدیم ای بی خبر از جهد ما

رو بایشان کرد و گفت ای مشفقان
از کجا آمد بگویید این عوان

چیست نام این وزیر جامه کن
قوم گفتندش که نامش هم حسن

گفت یا رب نام آن و نام این
چون یکی آمد دریغ ای رب دین

آن حسن نامی که از یک کلک او
صد وزیر و صاحب آید جودخو

این حسن کز ریش زشت این حسن
می توان بافید ای جان صد رسن

بر چنین صاحب چو شه اصغا کند
شاه و ملکش را ابد رسوا کند

English translation

After a few years, for the sake of sustenance and sowing, The poet became needy due to poverty and destitution. He said, "In the time of poverty and tightness of both hands, Searching for the tested one is better. The court that I have tested for its generosity, I will take my new need in that direction." Sibawayh explained the meaning of 'Allah': 'They seek refuge in Him for their needs.' He said, 'We sought refuge in You for our needs, And we sought them and found them with You.' Hundreds of thousands of the wise, in times of pain, Are all groaning before that peerless Judge. Would any mad fool do this: To persistently beg from a miserly, helpless person? If they had not seen (His grace) thousands of times and more, How would the wise have dragged their souls before Him? Nay, all the fishes in the waves, All the birds in the heights, The elephant and wolf and hunting lion too, The huge dragon, the ant, and the snake as well, Nay, earth and wind and water and every spark, Find their substance from Him, both winter and spring. Every moment this sky implores Him: 'O Truth, do not let me fall for a single moment. My pillar is Your protection and preservation, All is folded in the right hand of those two hands.' And this earth says, 'Keep me firmly established, O You who have made me ride upon the water.' All of them have sewn their purses from Him, They have learned the granting of needs from Him. Every prophet has drawn a draft upon Him, 'Seek help from Him with patience or prayer.' Beware! Seek from Him, not from other than Him; Seek water in the sea, do not seek it in a dry riverbed. And if you seek from another, He gives it too, He places generosity in the palm of his inclination. He who turns an evader into Korah with gold, If you turn to Him in obedience, what will He do? Once again, the poet, desiring justice and bounty, Set his face toward that beneficent king. What is the gift of a poet? A new poem, Which he brings before the beneficent one and pledges. Benefactors, with a hundred gifts, bounties, and virtues, Have laid out gold, waiting for poets. To them, one poem is better than a hundred half-loads of hair, Especially a poet who brings pearls from the depth. Man at first is greedy for bread, Because food and bread are the pillar of the soul. Toward earning, toward usurping, and a hundred tricks, He places his life on his palm out of greed and hope. When he occasionally becomes independent of bread, He becomes a lover of fame and the praise of poets, So that they may proclaim his lineage and branch, And set up a pulpit to explain his excellence; So that his pomp and splendor and gold-giving May give forth a scent like ambergris in conversation. God created us in His own image, Our qualities take their precedent from His qualities. Since that Creator seeks gratitude and praise, Man also has the habit of seeking praise. Especially the man of God who is agile in excellence, He is filled with that wind of inspiration and praise like a sound waterskin. And if he is not worthy of that false wind of praise, He is a torn waterskin; how can he take on luster? I did not say this parable from myself, O comrade, Do not listen carelessly, as you are worthy and awake. The Prophet said this when he heard criticism: 'Why does Ahmad become fat through praise?' The poet went before that king and brought A poem in gratitude for the beneficence that did not die. The benefactors died, but their beneficences remained; O happy is he who drives this steed! The oppressors died, and those oppressions remained; Woe to the soul that practices deceit and cunning! The Messenger said, 'Happy is he who Departed from the world, and left behind him good deeds.' The benefactor died, but his beneficence did not die; Before God, religion and beneficence are not small matters. Woe to him who died, and his disobedience appeared and continued, So do not think that by death he saved his soul. Let this go, because the poet, on the way, Is in debt and strongly in need of gold. The poet took the poem to the king, In hope of the bestowal and beneficence of last year. A delicate poem full of perfect pearls, In hope and scent of the first generosity. The king, also following his own disposition, told him a thousand dinars, Since such was the custom of that monarch. But this time, that vizier full of bounty Had departed from the world upon the Buraq of glory. In his place, a new vizier had become chief, But he was very merciless and miserly. He said, 'O King, we have expenses; This bestowal is not the proper reward for a poet. With a fortieth of this, O fortunate one, I will make the poet happy and satisfied.' The people told him, 'He, beforehand, Has taken tens of thousands from this brave man. After eating sugar, how can he chew on a pen? After kingship, how can he beg?' He said, 'I will press him in a press, Until he becomes miserable and emaciated from waiting. Then, if I give him dust from my path, He will snatch it away like a rose-petal from the meadow. Leave this to me, for I am a master in this; Even if the demander is fiery and impatient, If he flies from the Pleiades to the earth, He will become soft when he sees me.' His sultan said, 'Go, the command is yours; But make him happy, for he speaks well of us.' He said, 'For him and two hundred hoping lickers, Leave this to me, write this upon me.' Then the minister cast him into waiting; Winter and December passed, and spring arrived. The poet grew old in his waiting; Then he became helpless against this sorrow and contrivance. He said, 'If you don't give gold, at least curse me, So my soul may be freed and I may be your slave! Waiting has killed me; at least say, "Go!" So this wretched soul may be freed from pledge.' After that, he gave him a fortieth of it; The poet remained in heavy thought. That former gift was such cash and so much; This, which blossomed late, was a handful of thorns. Then they said to him, 'That generous minister Has departed from the world; may God give you a reward! For that gift used to be multiplied by him; Error in bestowal rarely occurred.' This time, he went and took beneficence with him; He did not die, in truth, but yes, beneficence died. The generous and rightly-guided minister went from us; The minister who is a flayer of dervishes has arrived. Go, take this and flee from here by night, Lest this minister picks a fight with you.' We, with a hundred tricks, took this gift From him, O you who are unaware of our effort! He turned to them and said, 'O compassionate ones, Tell me, from where has this oppressor come? What is the name of this clothes-stripping vizier?' The people said to him, 'His name is also Hasan.' He said, 'O Lord, how did his name and this one's name Become the same? Alas, O Lord of religion! That one named Hasan, from a single pen of whose, A hundred bountiful viziers and ministers could arise; And this Hasan, from the ugly beard of this Hasan, One can weave a hundred ropes, O soul! When a king listens to such a minister, He shames himself and his kingdom for eternity!'

Updated 2026-06-25

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