1Cademy - بخش ۱۱ - فی مذمة‌الاعداء و نصیحة‌الاولیاء / Section 11 - In Condemnation of Enemies and Advice of the Saints

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حدیقة الحقیقه و شریعة الطریقه / Hadiqat al-Haqiqah (The Walled Garden of Truth)

Poem

بخش ۱۱ - فی مذمة‌الاعداء و نصیحة‌الاولیاء / Section 11 - In Condemnation of Enemies and Advice of the Saints

Original content

ای منیری نمود مهتابت
بس بود سایه ریسمان تابت

نشود هیچ مردم مصلح
هرگز از دست دیو لایفلح

همچو مار از بدی و منحوسی
همه ساله شکار طاوسی

تا کت آموخت اختیار بدی
که میاموز دی و مه خوردی

عامه بهر طعام چون انعام
با سرپست دام و مست مدام

زانکه در کاملان بود همه جود
نبود بی فلاح مرد سجود

گر هراسد ز بی خرد مردم
از بدان ترسد و ز بد مردم

آن نترس خدای ترس خودست
تن که در طمع نیک و ترس بدست

ای عفااللٰه ز دیو سیرتشان
که ازین سان بود بصیرتشان

گفتهٔ مردشان نه از مردیست
بلکه از لاف و فتنه و سردیست

مرد کان هرزه گوی و بی باکست
راز با وی چو کوک با کاکست

بشماری بریدن از که و مه
گر ز من پرسی از بدان همه به

هم دم و هم درم دهد هم درد
هم جگر هم ذکر خورد بد مرد

نبود هیچ جز بد و بد رگ
گر یکی ور هزار بینی سگ

این همه خواجگان بی زر و سیم
علم شیر و گرگ مال یتیم

از کسی در جهان خاموشی
نشنود جز به گوش بی گوشی

زانکه اندر جهان خاموشی
برد بهتر ز بوریا پوشی

از پی دخل و خرج عقل و هنر
دفترش بی نواتر از دف تر

این دبیران که مدبران رهند
زان همی از غلام خود نرهند

ای ز خود سیرگشته همچو امل
بشنو از من ز روی پند و مثل

اندرین سرنشیب بی خبران
بار بر پشت مانده همچو خران

مرد شد مرد کز طمع بگریخت
گرد گشت ابر کآب روی بریخت

آز عقلت ببرد دین چه برد
طمع آبت بریخت جان چه خورد

سخن زیرکان همه رمزست
هرکه غمرست کار او غمزست

پوست باشد که غمز دارد نغز
غمز هرگز نیابی اندر مغز

جمله زیر جهان اسبابند
کشت را باد و مشک را آبند

همه هستند و من به نزد خودم
خوشه چینی ز خرمن خردم

پس همه چون خرند و بی تابند
گرد اسبم چگونه دریابند

برزگر این مثل نکو گفته ست
چشم دلشان از این مثل خفته ست

گر ز بنجشک بودمی به فکر
اندرین مزرعت شتابان سر

آسمان وار سر فراشتمی
ارزن اندر زمین نکاشتمی

دل درویش را ز روی ستم
کرده چون پشت سوسمار ز غم

جنگ جستند ارنه بس جستند
که چو شه تره بر گذر رستند

زان خصومت که با من انگیزند
زود چون مرد فرد بگریزند

مانده اند این کره از آن دم باز
پوست بر پوست همچو گنده پیاز

English translation

O you whose moonlight showed illumination, The shadow of your twisted rope is enough. No person becomes a reformer, Never prospers at the hand of a demon. Like a snake from evil and misfortune, Every year you are the prey of a peacock. Who taught you the choice of evil, That you learn not from yesterday and consumed today? The masses, for the sake of food, are like cattle, With head in a snare and constantly drunk. Because all generosity is in the perfect ones, The man of prostration is not without prosperity. If he fears the foolish people, He fears the bad ones and the bad people. That fearless one is God-fearing himself, The body that is in desire for good and fear of bad. O God pardon their demonic nature, That their insight is in this manner. Their manly speech is not from manliness, But from boasting, sedition, and coldness. The man who is a babbler and fearless, A secret with him is like a stitch with a biscuit. You count cutting off from great and small, If you ask me, distancing from the bad is entirely better. The bad man gives breath, dirham, and pain, The bad man eats liver and mentions it. There is nothing but bad and bad-veined, Whether you see one or a thousand dogs. All these masters without gold and silver, Their banner is a lion and wolf, their wealth is the orphan's. From anyone in the world of silence, He hears not except with an earless ear. Because in the world, silence, Takes better than wearing a reed mat. For the sake of income and expense of intellect and art, His record book is more tuneless than a wet tambourine. These scribes who are managers of the way, Because of that they do not escape from their slave. O satiated with yourself like hope, Hear from me by way of advice and parable. In this steep descent of the ignorant, Remaining with a load on the back like donkeys. A man became a man who fled from greed, The cloud became dust when it spilled its honor. Greed took away your intellect, what religion will it take? Covetousness spilled your honor, what will the soul eat? The speech of the clever is all symbols, Whoever is an ignoramus, his work is backbiting. It is the skin that considers backbiting fine, You will never find backbiting in the kernel. All beneath the world are causes, Wind for the field and water for the musk. All exist, and I near myself, Am a gleaner from the harvest of my intellect. So all are like donkeys and restless, How will they perceive the dust of my horse? The farmer has spoken this proverb well, The eye of their heart is asleep to this proverb. If I were in thought of the sparrow, In this field, hastening my head, Like the sky I would have raised my head, I would not have planted millet in the ground. The heart of the dervish out of oppression, They made like the back of a lizard from sorrow. They sought war, if not they sought much, For like a royal leek they grew on the crossing. From that hostility that they provoke with me, They will quickly flee like a solitary man. They have remained this foal from that moment again, Skin upon skin like a rotten onion.

Updated 2026-07-03

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