1Cademy - بخش ۱۳۰ - ختم کتاب و خاتمه خطاب / Section 130 - Conclusion of the Book and Ending of the Address

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Haft Awrang

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بخش ۱۳۰ - ختم کتاب و خاتمه خطاب / Section 130 - Conclusion of the Book and Ending of the Address

Original content

دامت آثارک ای طرفه قلم
دام دل ها زدی از مشک رقم

واسطی نسبت و شامی اثری
تحفه شام سوی روم بری

نقد عمر است نثار قدمت
نور چشم است سواد رقمت

مرغ جان راست صریر تو صفیر
وز صفیر تو در آفاق نفیر

از کجا پرسمت ای قاصد دل
که عجب مسرعی و مستعجل

مرکب گرم عنان می رانی
خوی چکان قطره زنان می رانی

نامه نامفزا می آری
خیر مقدم ز کجا می آری

این چه نقش است که ناگاه زدی
پنجه شب به رخ ماه زدی

بافتی بر قد این حور سرشت
حله از طره حوران بهشت

این چه حور است درین حله ناز
کرده از دولت جاوید طراز

روی زیباش مه اوج شرف
زلف مشکینش «من اللیل زلف »

جبهه اش فاتحه مصحف نور
بر میانش کمر «خیرالامور»

هر دو مصراع ز وی ابرویی
قبله حاجت حاجت جویی

چشمش از کحل بصیرت روشن
نظر لطف به عشاق افکن

طره اش پرده کش شاهد دین
خال او مردمک چشم یقین

لب او مژده ده باد مسیح
در فسون خوانی هر مرده فصیح

راستی شکل قد رعنایش
صدق عکس رخ صبح آسایش

گوشش از حلقه اخلاص گران
دیده عشق به رویش نگران

خرد گام زن از دنبالش
بیخود از زمزمه خلخالش

جامی آمد چو به خلخال سخن
از دعا گوهر خلخاش کن

یا رب این غیرت حورالعین را
شاهد روضه علیین را

از دل و دیده هر دیده وری
بخش توفیق قبول نظری

خاصه آن در روش فضل دلیر
زان دلیریش شده نام دو شیر

آن یکی در ره دین شیر خدای
وان دگر پنجه به هر صید گشای

چشمش از خوش قلمان روشن کن
خالش از پاک دمان گلشن کن

از خط خوب کنش پاینده
وز دم پاک طرب زاینده

لیک در جلوه گه عزت و جاه
دارش از دست دویی پاک نگاه

اول آن خامه زن سهو نویس
به سر دوک قلم بیهده ریس

بر خط و شعر وقوف از وی دور
چشم داران حروف از وی کور

فصل و وصل کلماتش نه به جای
فصل پیش نظرش وصل نمای

گه دو بیگانه به هم پیوسته
گه دو همخانه ز هم بگسسته

نقطه هایش نه به قانون حساب
خارج از دایره صدق و صواب

خال رخساره زده بر کف پای
شده از زیور رخ پای آرای

ور به اعراب شده راهسپر
رسم خط گشته ازو زیر و زبر

گه نوشته ست کم و گاه فزون
گشته موزون ز خطش ناموزون

یا برده یکی از پنج انگشت
یا فزوده ششم انگشت به مشت

از قلم باد جدا انگشتش
بلکه انگشت قلم در مشتش

دوم آن کس که کشد گزلک تیز
بهر اصلاح نه از سهو و ستیز

بتراشد ز ورق حرف صواب
زند از کلک خطا نقش بر آب

گل کند خار به جا بنشاند
خار را خوبتر از گل داند

بادش آن گزلک خنجر کردار
قاطع دست تصرف زین کار

حسن مقطع چو بود رسم کهن
قطع کردیم بر این نکته سخن

ختم الله لنا بالحسنی
و هو مولانا نعم المولی

English translation

May your works endure, O wondrous pen! You have cast a snare for hearts with your musk-like writing. Connected to Wasit by lineage, and with a Syrian effect, You carry the gift of Syria toward Rome. The coin of life is scattered at your steps; The blackness of your writing is the light of the eye. The scratching of your nib is a song to the bird of the soul, And from your song, there is a clamor in the horizons. From where shall I ask of you, O messenger of the heart? For you are wonderfully swift and hurried. You drive a fast-reined steed, Sweat-dripping and droplet-shedding, you ride. You bring a name-increasing letter; From where do you bring a welcome greeting? What is this design that you suddenly drew, Striking the face of the moon with the hand of the night? You wove, upon the stature of this hour-born creature, A robe from the tresses of the heavenly houris. What houri is this in this robe of grace, Adorned by eternal fortune? Her beautiful face is the moon of the peak of honor; Her musky tresses are like 'the tresses of the night'. Her forehead is the opening chapter of the scroll of light; Upon her waist is the belt of 'the best of affairs'. Each of her two hemistichs is an eyebrow, The Qiblah of need for the seeker of needs. Her eye is brightened with the kohl of insight, Casting a glance of grace upon lovers. Her tresses are the veil-drawers of the witness of faith; Her mole is the pupil of the eye of certainty. Her lip is the bringer of tidings of Messiah's wind, Eloquent in reciting spells over every dead soul. Indeed, the shape of her graceful stature Is the truth of the reflection of her morning-like face. Her ear is heavy with the ring of devotion; The eye of love is gazing upon her face. Intellect walks behind her, Spellbound by the melody of her anklet. When Jami came to the anklet of speech, Make her anklet out of the pearls of prayer. O Lord, this envy of the wide-eyed houris, This witness of the garden of the highest heavens, From the heart and eye of every beholder, Grant the grace of acceptance of a gaze; Especially that one who is brave in the path of virtue, Whose bravery has earned him the name of 'two lions'. One is the Lion of God in the path of religion, And the other opens his claws upon every prey. Brighten his eye with sweet calligraphers; Make his mole a flower-garden from pure-breath's wind. Keep him enduring through beautiful writing, And joyful from pure breath. But in the manifestation of glory and status, Keep him clean from the hand of duality. First, that error-writing pen-man, Spinning vanity at the tip of the spindle of the pen, Knowledge of calligraphy and poetry is far from him, Those with eyes for letters are blind because of him. The separation and connection of his words are misplaced; Separation appearing as connection in his view. Sometimes two strangers are joined together; Sometimes two housemates are severed from one other. His dots are not according to the law of calculation, Outside the circle of truth and correctness. He has placed the beauty mark of the cheek on the sole of the foot, Decorating the foot with the ornament of the face. And if he has set off with vowel marks, The conventions of writing are turned upside down by him. Sometimes he writes too little, sometimes too much; That which was harmonious becomes discordant by his script. Either he has taken away one of the five fingers, Or he has added a sixth finger to the fist. May his finger be severed from the pen, Or rather, may the finger of the pen be broken in his fist! Second, he who draws a sharp scraping-knife, Not due to error or strife, but under the guise of correction, Scrapes away the correct word from the sheet, And writes error upon water with his pen. He plucks the rose and plants a thorn in its place, Deeming the thorn more beautiful than the rose. May that dagger-like scraping-knife of his Sever his hand from meddling in this work. Since a beautiful ending is an ancient custom, We have concluded our speech upon this point. May God seal our end with goodness, And He is our Master, and what an excellent Master!

Updated 2026-07-19

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