Poem

دفتر چهارم - بخش ۳ - حکایت آن واعظ کی هر آغاز تذکیر دعای ظالمان و سخت‌دلان و بی‌اعتقادان کردی / Book Four - Section 3 - The Tale of That Preacher Who, at the Beginning of Every Admonition, Would Pray for the Oppressors, the Hard-Hearted, and the Faithless

Original content

آن یکی واعظ چو بر تخت آمدی
قاطعان راه را داعی شدی

دست برمی‌داشت یا رب رحم ران
بر بدان و مفسدان و طاغیان

بر همه تسخرکنان اهل خیر
برهمه کافردلان و اهل دیر

می‌نکردی او دعا بر اصفیا
می‌نکردی جز خبیثان را دعا

مر ورا گفتند کین معهود نیست
دعوت اهل ضلالت جود نیست

گفت نیکویی ازینها دیده‌ام
من دعاشان زین سبب بگزیده‌ام

خبث و ظلم و جور چندان ساختند
که مرا از شر به خیر انداختند

هر گهی که رو به دنیا کردمی
من ازیشان زخم و ضربت خوردمی

کردمی از زخم آن جانب پناه
باز آوردندمی گرگان به راه

چون سبب‌ساز صلاح من شدند
پس دعاشان بر منست ای هوشمند

بنده می‌نالد به حق از درد و نیش
صد شکایت می‌کند از رنج خویش

حق همی گوید که آخر رنج و درد
مر ترا لابه کنان و راست کرد

این گله زان نعمتی کن کت زند
از در ما دور و مطرودت کند

در حقیقت هر عدو داروی تست
کیمیا و نافع و دلجوی تست

که ازو اندر گریزی در خلا
استعانت جویی از لطف خدا

در حقیقت دوستانت دشمن‌اند
که ز حضرت دور و مشغولت کنند

هست حیوانی که نامش اشغرست
او به زخم چوب زفت و لمترست

تا که چوبش می‌زنی به می‌شود
او ز زخم چوب فربه می‌شود

نفس مؤمن اشغری آمد یقین
کو به زخم رنج زفتست و سمین

زین سبب بر انبیا رنج و شکست
از همه خلق جهان افزونترست

تا ز جانها جانشان شد زفت‌تر
که ندیدند آن بلا قوم دگر

پوست از دارو بلاکش می‌شود
چون ادیم طایفی خوش می‌شود

ورنه تلخ و تیز مالیدی درو
گنده گشتی ناخوش و ناپاک بو

آدمی را پوست نامدبوغ دان
از رطوبتها شده زشت و گران

تلخ و تیز و مالش بسیار ده
تا شود پاک و لطیف و با فره

ور نمی‌توانی رضا ده ای عیار
گر خدا رنجت دهد بی‌اختیار

که بلای دوست تطهیر شماست
علم او بالای تدبیر شماست

چون صفا بیند بلا شیرین شود
خوش شود دارو چو صحت‌بین شود

برد بیند خویش را در عین مات
پس بگوید اقتلونی یا ثقات

این عوان در حق غیری سود شد
لیک اندر حق خود مردود شد

رحم ایمانی ازو ببریده شد
کین شیطانی برو پیچیده شد

کارگاه خشم گشت و کین‌وری
کینه دان اصل ضلال و کافری

English translation

That one preacher, whenever he mounted the pulpit,\nWould pray for the highway robbers.\n\nHe would raise his hands: "O Lord, grant mercy\nUpon the wicked, the corrupt, and the rebellious—\n\nUpon all who mock the people of goodness,\nUpon all the hard-hearted and the people of the cloister."\n\nHe would not pray for the elect,\nHe would pray for none but the wicked.\n\nThey said to him: "This is not the custom;\nTo invoke blessing upon the people of error is no generosity."\n\nHe said: "I have seen goodness from these people;\nFor this reason I have chosen to pray for them.\n\nTheir wickedness, injustice, and oppression were so great\nThat they cast me from evil into goodness.\n\nWhenever I turned my face toward the world,\nI received blows and strikes from them.\n\nFrom those blows I would take refuge in that direction,\nThose wolves would bring me back to the path.\n\nSince they became the cause of my righteousness,\nPraying for them is incumbent upon me, O wise one."\n\nThe servant complains to God of pain and sting,\nMaking a hundred complaints about his own suffering.\n\nGod says: "In the end, suffering and pain\nMade you suppliant and upright.\n\nMake your complaint about that blessing which strikes you\nAnd drives you far from Our door, casting you out."\n\nIn truth, every enemy is your medicine,\nYour alchemy, your benefit, and your heart's solace—\n\nFor you flee from him into seclusion\nAnd seek help from the grace of God.\n\nIn truth, your friends are your enemies,\nFor they keep you distant from the Divine Presence and keep you occupied.\n\nThere is a creature whose name is the ashghar;\nIt grows fat and stout from blows of the stick.\n\nThe more you beat it with the stick, the fatter it becomes;\nIt grows plump from the blows of the stick.\n\nThe believer's soul is certainly like an ashghar:\nIt grows mighty and fat from the blows of suffering.\n\nFor this reason, suffering and defeat upon the prophets\nIs greater than upon all the rest of creation—\n\nSo that their souls became mightier than all other souls,\nFor no other people endured such tribulation.\n\nHide, through the medicine of tanning, bears tribulation\nAnd becomes pleasant like fine Taifi leather;\n\nBut if bitter and sharp substances had not been rubbed into it,\nIt would have become putrid, unpleasant, and foul-smelling.\n\nKnow the human soul as untanned hide,\nMade ugly and heavy by moistures.\n\nGive it much bitterness, sharpness, and rubbing,\nSo that it becomes pure, refined, and full of farr.\n\nAnd if you cannot, then submit, O shrewd one,\nIf God gives you suffering without your choosing—\n\nFor the tribulation from the Friend is your purification;\nHis knowledge is above your planning.\n\nWhen purity is seen, tribulation becomes sweet;\nMedicine becomes pleasant when health is perceived.\n\nThe victor sees himself in the very midst of checkmate,\nThen says: "Kill me, O trustworthy ones" (iqtulūnī yā thiqāt).\n\nThis constable became a benefit to others,\nBut in his own case he became rejected.\n\nFaithful compassion was severed from him,\nSatanic enmity was coiled around him.\n\nHe became a workshop of wrath and vendetta;\nKnow that enmity is the root of error and unbelief.

0

1

Updated 2026-05-10

Contributors are:

Who are from:

References


Tags

Humanities

Literature

Islam

Religion

Science

Philosophy

Social Science

Persian Literature Prerequisite Course

Related