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قصهٔ رنجور و رنجوری بخواند 
بعدازآن در پیش رنجورش نشاند
رنگ روی و نبض و قاروره بدید 
هم علاماتش هم اسبابش شنید
گفت هر دارو که ایشان کرده‌اند 
آن عمارت نیست ویران کرده‌اند
بی‌خبر بودند از حال درون 
استعیذ الله مما یفترون
دید رنج و کشف شد بَر وِی نهفت 
لیک پنهان کرد و با سلطان نگفت
رنجش از صفرا و از سودا نبود 
بوی هر هیزم پدید آید ز دود
دید از زاریش کو زار دل است 
تن خوش است و او گرفتار دل است
عاشقی پیداست از زاری دل 
نیست بیماری چو بیماری دل
علت عاشق ز علت‌ها جداست 
عشق اصطرلاب اسرار خداست
عاشقی گر زین سر و گر زان سرست 
عاقبت ما را بدان سر رهبرست
هرچه گویم عشق را شرح و بیان 
چون به عشق آیم خجل باشم از آن
گرچه تفسیر زبان روشنگرست 
لیک عشق بی‌زبان روشنترست
چون قلم اندر نوشتن می‌شتافت 
چون به عشق آمد قلم بر خود شکافت
عقل در شرحش چو خر در گل بخفت 
شرح عشق و عاشقی هم عشق گفت
آفتاب آمد دلیل آفتاب 
گر دلیلت باید از وی رو متاب
از وی ار سایه نشانی می‌دهد 
شمس هر دم نور جانی می‌دهد
سایه، خواب آرد تو را همچون سمر 
چون برآید شمس انشق القمر
خود غریبی در جهان چون شمس نیست 
شمس جان باقیست کاو را امس نیست
شمس در خارج اگر چه هست فرد 
می‌توان هم مثل او تصویر کرد
شمس جان کو خارج آمد از اثیر 
نبودش در ذهن و در خارج نظیر
در تصور ذات او را گُنج کو 
تا درآید در تصور مثل او
چون حدیث روی شمس‌الدین رسید 
شمس چارم‌آسمان سر در کشید
واجب آید چونکه آمد نام او 
شرح کردن رمزی از انعام او
این نفس جان دامنم برتافتست 
بوی پیراهان یوسف یافتست
کز برای حقِ صحبت سال‌ها 
بازگو حالی از آن خوش حال‌ها
تا زمین و آسمان خندان شود 
عقل و روح و دیده صدچندان شود
لاتکلفنی فانی فی الفنا 
کلت افهامی فلا احصی ثنا
کل شیء قاله غیرالمفیق 
ان تکلف او تصلف لا یلیق
من چه گویم یک رگم هشیار نیست 
شرح آن یاری که او را یار نیست
شرح این هجران و این خون جگر 
این زمان بگذار تا وقت دگر
قال اطعمنی فانی جائع 
واعتجل فالوقت سیف قاطع
صوفی ابن‌الوقت باشد ای رفیق 
نیست فردا گفتن از شرط طریق
تو مگر خود مرد صوفی نیستی 
هست را از نسیه خیزد نیستی
گفتمش پوشیده خوش‌تر سِرِّ یار 
خود تو در ضمن حکایت گوش‌ دار
خوش‌تر آن باشد که سر دلبران 
گفته آید در حدیث دیگران
گفت مکشوف و برهنه بی‌غلول 
بازگو، دفعم مِدِه ای بوالفضول
پرده بردار و برهنه گو که من 
می‌نخسپم با صنم با پیرهن
گفتم ار عریان شود او در عیان 
نه تو مانی نه کنارت نه میان
آرزو می‌خواه، لیک اندازه خواه 
برنتابد کوه را یک برگ کاه
آفتابی کز وی این عالم فروخت 
اندکی گر پیش آید جمله سوخت
فتنه و آشوب و خون‌ریزی مجوی 
بیش ازین از شمس تبریزی مگوی
این ندارد آخر، از آغاز گوی 
رو تمام این حکایت بازگوی

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## English translation
The king related the account of the sick one and her illness, then seated the physician before the patient. He looked at the color of her face, her pulse, and the urine flask, and heard both her symptoms and their causes. He said, “Every remedy they have used has not restored the building but destroyed it. They were unaware of the inward state; I seek refuge in God from what they fabricate.” He saw the suffering, and what was hidden was disclosed to him, but he concealed it and did not tell the sultan. Her suffering was not from yellow bile or black bile; the smell of every wood is known from its smoke. From her lament he saw that she was sick at heart: the body was well, but she was caught by the heart. Love is manifest from the heart’s lament; there is no sickness like sickness of the heart. The lover’s malady is apart from other maladies; love is the astrolabe of God’s mysteries. Whether love is from this side or from that side, in the end it leads us to that side. Whatever I say in explanation and description of love, when I come to love I am ashamed of it. Although the tongue’s commentary illuminates, tongueless love is clearer. When the pen hurried in writing, when it came to love the pen split itself. Reason, in explaining it, lay like a donkey in mud; love itself spoke the explanation of love and loving. The sun is the proof of the sun; if you need proof, do not turn your face from it. If shadow gives a sign of it, the sun gives soul-light at every moment. Shadow brings you sleep like evening tales; when the sun rises, the moon is split. There is nothing more strange in the world than the sun; the sun of the soul is everlasting, for it has no yesterday. Although the outward sun is single, one can still picture its likeness. The sun of the soul, which is beyond the ether, has no likeness in mind or outside. Where is there room in imagination for his essence, so that his like might enter imagination? When the discourse reached the face of Shams al-Din, the sun of the fourth heaven drew in its head. Since his name has come, it is necessary to explain a hint of his bounties. At this breath my soul has seized the hem of my robe; it has found the scent of Joseph’s shirt, saying: “For the sake of the right of years of companionship, tell again something of those happy states, so that earth and heaven may laugh and reason, spirit, and sight may become a hundredfold.” “Do not impose this on me, for I am annihilated in annihilation; my understandings are exhausted, so I cannot count the praise. Whatever one not fully sober says, whether from affectation or boastfulness, is unfitting.” What shall I say? Not one vein of mine is sober enough to describe that Friend who has no peer. Leave the explanation of this separation and this bloody grief for another time. He said, “Feed me, for I am hungry; hurry, for time is a cutting sword.” The Sufi is the son of the moment, friend; saying “tomorrow” is not among the conditions of the Path. Are you perhaps not a Sufi man yourself? From treating the present as deferred credit, nonbeing arises. I said to him, “The Friend’s secret is better veiled; listen for it yourself within the story. It is better that the secret of beloveds be told in the discourse of others.” He said, “Tell it revealed and naked, without concealment; do not put me off, you meddlesome one. Lift the veil and speak nakedly, for I do not sleep with the idol while wearing a shirt.” I said, “If he becomes naked in open sight, neither you, nor your embrace, nor your middle will remain. Desire, but desire in measure; a straw cannot bear a mountain. A sun by which this world was lit, if it came a little nearer, would burn everything. Do not seek sedition, turmoil, and bloodshed; say no more than this of Shams of Tabriz.” “This has no end; speak from the beginning. Go, retell this whole story.”

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

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دست بگشاد و کنارانش گرفت 
همچو عشق اندر دل و جانش گرفت
دست و پیشانیش بوسیدن گرفت 
وز مقام و راه پرسیدن گرفت
پرس‌پرسان می‌کشیدش تا به صدر 
گفت گنجی یافتم آخر به صبر
گفت ای نور حَقُ و دفعِ حَرَج 
معنی‌ِ الصبر مفتاح الفرج
ای لقای تو جواب هر سؤال 
مشکل از تو حل شود بی‌قیل‌وقال
ترجمانی هرچه ما را در دل است 
دستگیری هر که پایش در گل است
مرحبا یا مجتبی یا مرتضی 
إن تغب، جاء القضا، ضاق الفضا
انت مولی‌القوم من لا یشتهی 
قد ردی کلا لئن لم ینتهی
چون گذشت آن مجلس و خوان کرم 
دست او بگرفت و برد اندر حرم

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## English translation
He opened his arms and took him to his breast; like love, he took him into his heart and soul. He began kissing his hand and brow and asking about his station and path. Questioning him as he went, he drew him to the seat of honor and said, “At last, through patience, I have found a treasure.” He said, “O light of God and remover of hardship, meaning of ‘patience is the key to relief’; O you whose meeting is the answer to every question, through you the difficulty is solved without talk or debate. You are the interpreter of all that is in our heart, the helper of everyone whose foot is in the mire. Welcome, O chosen one, O approved one. If you are absent, decree arrives and space grows narrow. You are the patron of the people; whoever does not desire you has surely fallen. No indeed: if he does not desist...” When that gathering and table of generosity had passed, he took his hand and led him into the private chamber.

دفتر اول - بخش ۵ - ملاقات پادشاه با آن ولی که در خوابش نمودند / Book One - Section 5 - The King's Meeting with That Saint Who Was Shown to Him in His Dream

Source Work: مثنوی معنوی / Masnavi

This section represents the immediate continuation of the story in Book 1 of Rumi's Masnavi. Following the king's desperate prayers and his subsequent dream of a spiritual master (detailed in Section 3), this poem section narrates the actual arrival of the promised divine physician. The king's joyous welcoming of this holy figure serves as the crucial narrative link before the physician is eventually taken to diagnose the sick handmaiden (Section 6).

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شه چو عجز آن حکیمان را بدید 
پابرهنه جانب مسجد دوید
رفت در مسجد سوی محراب شد 
سجده‌گاه از اشک شه پر آب شد
چون به خویش آمد ز غرقاب فنا 
خوش زبان بگشاد در مدح و دعا
کای کمینه بخششت مُلک جهان 
من چه گویم چون تو می‌دانی نهان
ای همیشه حاجت ما را پناه 
بار دیگر ما غلط کردیم راه
لیک گفتی گرچه می‌دانم سرت 
زود هم پیدا کنش بر ظاهرت
چون برآورد از میان جان خروش 
اندر آمد بحر بخشایش به جوش
درمیان گریه خوابش در ربود 
دید در خواب او که پیری رو نمود
گفت ای شه مژده حاجاتت رواست 
گر غریبی آیدت فردا ز ماست
چونکه آید او حکیمی حاذقست 
صادقش دان کو امین و صادقست
در علاجش سِحر مطلق را ببین 
در مزاجش قدرت حق را ببین
چون رسید آن وعده‌گاه و روز شد 
آفتاب از شرق اخترسوز شد
بود اندر منظره شه منتظر 
تا ببیند آنچه بنمودند سر
دید شخصی فاضلی پرمایه‌ای 
آفتابی درمیان سایه‌ای
می‌رسید از دور مانند هلال 
نیست بود و هست بر شکل خیال
نیست‌وش باشد خیال اندر روان 
تو جهانی بر خیالی بین روان
بر خیالی صلحشان و جنگشان 
وز خیالی فخرشان و ننگشان
آن خیالاتی که دام اولیاست 
عکس مه‌رویان بستان خداست
آن خیالی که شه اندر خواب دید 
در رخ مهمان همی آمد پدید
شه به جای حاجبان فا پیش رفت 
پیش آن مهمان غیب خویش رفت
هر دو بحری آشنا آموخته 
هر دو جان بی دوختن بر دوخته
گفت معشوقم تو بودستی نه آن 
لیک کار از کار خیزد در جهان
ای مرا تو مصطفی من چو عمر 
از برای خدمتت بندم کمر

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## English translation
When the king saw the helplessness of those physicians,
He ran barefoot toward the mosque.

He entered the mosque and came to the mihrab;
The place of prostration was flooded with the king's tears.

When he came to himself from the whirlpool of fana,
He opened his tongue sweetly in praise and supplication:

"O You, the least of Whose gifts is the kingdom of the world —
What shall I say, since You know what is hidden?

O You Who are always the refuge of our need,
Once again we have gone astray from the path.

Yet You have said: 'Though I know your secret,
Still make it manifest upon your outward form.'"

When he raised a cry from the depths of his soul,
The sea of mercy came to a boil.

In the midst of weeping, sleep snatched him away;
In his dream he saw an old man show his face.

He said: "O King, glad tidings — your needs shall be granted.
If a stranger comes to you tomorrow, he is from us.

When he comes, he is a skilled physician —
Know him as true, for he is trustworthy and sincere.

In his treatment, behold the absolute sihr;
In his temperament, behold the power of Haqq."

When that appointed time arrived and day came,
The sun from the east became the star-burner.

The king was at the lookout, waiting,
To see what had been hinted at.

He saw a person — virtuous, full of worth,
A sun amid shadow.

He was approaching from afar like a crescent moon,
At once nonexistent and existent, in the form of khayal.

Khayal is phantom-like within the soul —
See a whole world running upon a khayal.

Their peace and their war are upon a khayal,
And their glory and their shame are from a khayal.

Those khayalat that are the snare of the awliya
Are the reflection of the moon-faced ones of God's garden.

The khayal the king had seen in sleep
Was now becoming manifest in the face of the guest.

The king went forward himself in place of the chamberlains;
He went out to meet that guest of the ghayb.

Both were seas that had learned the same swimming;
Both souls joined together, stitched without stitching.

He said: "You were my beloved, not that one —
But in the world, one thing arises from another.

O You who are Mustafa to me, I am as 'Umar —
For your service I gird my loins."

دفتر اول - بخش ۳ - ظاهر شدن عجز حکیمان از معالجهٔ کنیزک و روی آوردن پادشاه به درگاه اله و در خواب دیدن او ولیی را / Book One – Section 3 – The Manifestation of the Helplessness of the Physicians in Treating the Slave-Girl, the King's Turning to the Threshold of God, and His Beholding a Saint in a Dream

Root URL: https://ganjoor.net/
Source URL: https://ganjoor.net/

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