1Cademy - دفتر اول - بخش ۱۱۱ - قصهٔ اعرابی درویش و ماجرای زن با او به سبب قلت و درویشی / Book One - Section 111 - The Tale of the Dervish Bedouin and His Wifes Dispute with Him Due to Scarcity and Poverty

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مثنوی معنوی: دفتر اول / Masnavi: Book One

Poem

دفتر اول - بخش ۱۱۱ - قصهٔ اعرابی درویش و ماجرای زن با او به سبب قلت و درویشی / Book One - Section 111 - The Tale of the Dervish Bedouin and His Wife's Dispute with Him Due to Scarcity and Poverty

Original content

یک شب اعرابی زنی مر شوی را
گفت و از حد برد گفت و گوی را

کین همه فقر و جفا ما می کشیم
جمله عالم در خوشی ما ناخوشیم

نان مان نه، نان خورش مان درد و رشک
کوزه مان نه، آب مان از دیده اشک

جامهٔ ما، روز تاب آفتاب
شب، نهالین و لحاف از ماهتاب

قرص مه را قرص نان پنداشته
دست سوی آسمان برداشته

ننگ درویشان ز درویشی ما
روز شب، از روزی اندیشی ما

خویش و بیگانه شده از ما رمان
بر مثال سامری از مردمان

گر بخواهم از کسی یک مشت نسک
مر مرا گوید خمش کن مرگ و جسک

مر عرب را فخر غزوست و عطا
در عرب تو همچو اندر خط خطا

چه غزا ما بی غزا خود کشته ایم
ما به تیغ فقر بی سر گشته ایم

چه عطا ما بر گدایی می تنیم
مر مگس را در هوا رگ می زنیم

گر کسی مهمان رسد گر من منم
شب بخسپد، دلقش از تن بر کنم

English translation

One night a Bedouin woman spoke to her husband and carried the conversation beyond bounds: 'All this poverty and harshness we endure; the whole world is at ease, and we are ill at ease. We have no bread; our relish is pain and envy. We have no jug; our water is tears from our eyes. By day our clothing is the sun’s heat; by night our pillow and quilt are moonlight. We have taken the disk of the moon for a loaf of bread and stretched our hands toward the sky. Dervishes are put to shame by our poverty, by our day-and-night anxiety over provision. Kinsman and stranger have fled from us, as people shunned the Samiri. If I ask someone for a handful of lentils, he says to me, Be silent: death and carrion to you. The Arab’s pride is raiding and generosity; among Arabs you are like an error in a written line. What raid? Without any raid we have slain ourselves; by poverty’s sword we have become headless. What generosity? We are weaving ourselves into beggary; we are cutting a vein of a fly in the air. If a guest arrives, if I am truly myself, when he sleeps at night I will strip the patched cloak from his body.'

Updated 2026-06-28

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Ganjoor

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