1Cademy - دفتر اول - بخش ۷ - خلوت طلبیدن آن ولی از پادشاه جهت دریافتن رنج کنیزک / Book One - Section 7 - That Saint Seeking Privacy from the King to Discover the Slave Girls Illness

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مثنوی معنوی: دفتر اول / Masnavi: Book One
دفتر اول - بخش ۶ - بردن پادشاه آن طبیب را بر بیمار تا حال او را ببیند / Book 1 - Section 6 - The king taking that physician to the sick person so he may see her condition

Poem

دفتر اول - بخش ۷ - خلوت طلبیدن آن ولی از پادشاه جهت دریافتن رنج کنیزک / Book One - Section 7 - That Saint Seeking Privacy from the King to Discover the Slave Girl's Illness

Original content

گفت ای شه خلوتی کن خانه را
دور کن هم خویش و هم بیگانه را

کس ندارد گوش در دهلیزها
تا بپرسم زین کنیزک چیزها

خانه خالی ماند و یک دیار نه
جز طبیب و جز همان بیمار نه

نرم نرمک گفت شهر تو کجاست؟
که علاج اهل هر شهری جداست

واندر آن شهر از قرابت کیستت؟
خویشی و پیوستگی با چیستت؟

دست بر نبضش نهاد و یک بیک
باز می پرسید از جور فلک

چون کسی را خار در پایش جهد
پای خود را بر سر زانو نهد

وز سر سوزن همی جوید سرش
ور نیابد، می کند با لب ترش

خار در پا شد چنین دشواریاب
خار در دل چون بود؟ وا ده جواب

خار در دل گر بدیدی هر خسی
دست کی بودی غمان را بر کسی؟

کس به زیر دم خر خاری نهد
خر نداند دفع آن، برمی جهد

برجهد، وان خار محکم تر زند
عاقلی باید که خاری برکند

خر ز بهر دفع خار از سوز و درد
جفته می انداخت، صد جا زخم کرد

آن حکیم خارچین استاد بود
دست می زد جابجا می آزمود

زان کنیزک بر طریق داستان
باز می پرسید حال دوستان

با حکیم او قصه ها می گفت فاش
از مقام و خواجگان و شهر و باش

سوی قصه گفتنش می داشت گوش
سوی نبض و جستنش می داشت هوش

تا که نبض از نام کی گردد جهان
او بود مقصود جانش در جهان

دوستان و شهر او را برشمرد
بعد از آن شهری دگر را نام برد

گفت چون بیرون شدی از شهر خویش
در کدامین شهر بودستی تو بیش؟

نام شهری گفت و زان هم درگذشت
رنگ روی و نبض او دیگر نگشت

خواجگان و شهرها را یک بیک
باز گفت از جای و از نان و نمک

شهر شهر و خانه خانه قصه کرد
نه رگش جنبید و نه رخ گشت زرد

نبض او بر حال خود بد بی گزند
تا بپرسید از سمرقند چو قند

نبض جست و روی سرخ و زرد شد
کز سمرقندی زرگر فرد شد

چون ز رنجور آن حکیم این راز یافت
اصل آن درد و بلا را باز یافت

گفت کوی او کدام است در گذر
او سر پل گفت و کوی غاتفر

گفت دانستم که رنجت چیست، زود
در خلاصت سحرها خواهم نمود

شاد باش و فارغ و آمن که من
آن کنم با تو که باران با چمن

من غم تو می خورم، تو غم مخور
بر تو من مشفق ترم از صد پدر

هان و هان این راز را با کس مگو
گرچه از تو شه کند بس جست و جو

خانهٔ اسرار تو چون دل شود
آن مرادت زودتر حاصل شود

گفت پیغامبر که هر که سر نهفت
زود گردد با مراد خویش جفت

دانه چون اندر زمین پنهان شود
سر او سرسبزی بستان شود

زر و نقره گر نبودندی نهان
پرورش کی یافتندی زیر کان

وعده ها و لطف های آن حکیم
کرد آن رنجور را آمن ز بیم

وعده ها باشد حقیقی، دل پذیر
وعده ها باشد مجازی، تاسه گیر

وعدهٔ اهل کرم، گنج روان
وعدهٔ نااهل شد، رنج روان

English translation

He said: O King, make the house private; send away both intimate and stranger. Let no one have an ear in the corridors, so that I may ask this slave girl some things. The house remained empty, not a single person there, except the physician and that same patient. Softly, softly he said: Where is your city? For the treatment of the people of every city is different. And in that city, who is kin to you? With whom do you have attachment and connection? He placed his hand on her pulse and, one by one, kept asking about the oppression of fate. When a thorn sticks in someone's foot, he puts his foot on his knee and searches for its tip with the point of a needle; if he cannot find it, he moistens it with his lips. A thorn in the foot is so hard to find; what, then, is a thorn in the heart? Give an answer. If every base person could see the thorn in the heart, how would grief ever have power over anyone? Someone puts a thorn under a donkey's tail; the donkey does not know how to remove it and jumps. It jumps, and the thorn drives in more firmly; a wise person is needed to pull out a thorn. The donkey, from burning pain, kept kicking to remove the thorn and wounded itself in a hundred places. That wise thorn-picker was skilled; he touched here and there, testing. From the slave girl, by way of story, he kept asking about the condition of her friends. She told the physician stories openly, about her dwelling, masters, city, and residence. He kept his ear on her storytelling and his attention on her pulse and its leaping, so that whoever's name made the pulse leap would be the object of her soul in the world. He counted off her friends and her city, then named another city. He said: When you left your own city, in which city did you spend the most time? She named a city, and he passed on from that too; her complexion and pulse did not change. One by one he recited masters and cities, with places and hospitality. City by city and house by house he told the story; neither did her vein move nor did her face turn yellow. Her pulse remained in its own state, unharmed, until he asked about Samarqand, sweet as sugar. Her pulse leapt, and her face flushed and paled, because she was separated from a Samarqandi goldsmith, unique. When that physician found this secret from the sick one, he found again the root of that pain and affliction. He said: Which lane is his in the quarter? She said: At the head of the bridge, in the Ghatifar lane. He said: I know what your illness is; soon I will work marvels for your deliverance. Be happy, free from care, and secure, for I will do for you what rain does for the meadow. I will bear your grief; do not grieve. I am more compassionate to you than a hundred fathers. Take care, take care: tell this secret to no one, even if the king questions you much. When the house of your secrets becomes like the heart, your desire will be achieved sooner. The Prophet said: Whoever hides a secret soon becomes joined with his desire. When a seed is hidden in the earth, its secret becomes the greenness of the garden. If gold and silver were not hidden, how would they be nurtured under the mine? The promises and kindnesses of that physician made the sick one safe from fear. Some promises are true and pleasing to the heart; some promises are figurative and bring anguish. The promise of the generous is a flowing treasure; the promise of the unworthy becomes a flowing torment.

Updated 2026-06-28

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