Learn Before
Poem

بخش ۳۴ - صفت چوگان باختن وی با همسران و گوی بردن وی از دیگران / Section 34 - Description of His Polo Playing with Peers and Snatching the Ball from Others

Original content

چون تن از خواب سحر آسودیش
بامدادان عزم میدان بودیش

صبحدم چون شاه این نیلی تتق
بارگی راندی به میدان افق

شه سلامان نیز مست و نیمخواب
پای کردی سوی میدان در رکاب

با گروهی از نژاد خسروان
خردسال و تازه روی و نوجوان

هر یکی در خیل خوبان سروری
آفت ملکی بلای کشوری

صولجان بر کف به میدان تاختی
گوی زرکش در میان انداختی

یک به یک چوگان زنان جویان حال
گرد یک مه حلقه کرده صد هلال

گرچه بودی زخم چوگان از همه
بود چابکتر سلامان از همه

گوی بردی از همه با صد شتاب
گوی مه بود و سلامان آفتاب

با هلالی صولجان دنبال ماه
حال گویان می شدی تا حالگاه

گوی اگر صدبار از آنجا باز پس
آمدی هر بار حال این بود و بس

آری آن کس را که دولت یار شد
وز نهال بخت برخودار شد

هیچ چوگان زیر این چرخ کبود
گوی نتواند ز میدانش ربود

English translation

When his body was rested from the morning sleep, In the morning, his resolve was for the playing field. At dawn, when the king of this blue veil Drove his steed into the field of the horizon, King Salaman, also half-asleep and intoxicated, Would set his foot in the stirrup toward the field, With a group of royal lineage, Young of age, fresh-faced, and youthful. Each was a leader among the beautiful, A bane to the realm, a calamity to the country. Polo-mallet in hand, they would gallop into the field, Throwing the gold-stitched ball into the midst. One by one, striking with mallets, seeking the play, A hundred crescents formed a ring around a single moon. Though the mallet-strokes came from everyone, Salaman was the swiftest of them all. He would snatch the ball from everyone with great speed; The ball was the moon, and Salaman was the sun. With a crescent-shaped mallet pursuing the moon, Shouting in high spirits, he would make his way to the goal. Even if the ball were sent back from there a hundred times, Each time, this was the state and nothing else. Indeed, he who is befriended by fortune, And has reaped the fruit from the sapling of luck, No polo-mallet under this blue dome Can ever snatch the ball of victory from his field.

0

1

Updated 2026-07-07

Contributors are:

Who are from:

References


Tags

Humanities

Literature

Persian Literature Prerequisite Course

Related