1Cademy - بخش ۳۳ - رسیدن کثیر به روضه پر غزالان و خبر آوردن پیش مجنون و جواب آن شنیدن / Section 33 - Kathir Reaching the Meadow Full of Gazelles, Bringing the News to Majnun, and Hearing His Reply

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Haft Awrang

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بخش ۳۳ - رسیدن کثیر به روضه پر غزالان و خبر آوردن پیش مجنون و جواب آن شنیدن / Section 33 - Kathir Reaching the Meadow Full of Gazelles, Bringing the News to Majnun, and Hearing His Reply

Original content

چون رفت کثیر آن هنرور
زان صیدگه اندکی فراتر

آراسته دید مرغزاری
از باغ بهشت یادگاری

از سبزه زمین چو سبز مفرش
وز گل گل مختلف منقش

یا مصحفی از زمردش حرف
از لاله بر آن وقوف شنگرف

یا خود ورقی بر آن ز زنگار
بنوشته الف الف به تکرار

طفلان گیا مگر بهاران
بودند بر آن ز مشق کاران

یا خود زرهی نهفته در زنگ
پوشیده ز سبزه بر بدن تنگ

تا تیر سحاب و ناوک برق
در سینه و تن نگرددش غرق

آورده ز جیب خاک لاله
بیرون ز عقیق تر پیاله

یا خود قدحی زلعل سیراب
پر نیزه ای از زمرد ناب

کش باد به لعب خویش نازان
می گرداند چو کاسه بازان

یا مشعله ایست بس فروزان
بی روغن و بی فتیله سوزان

کز مشعله دار خرده بینش
محکم شده پای در زمینش

سوریش به یاسمن معانق
خیریش به یاسمین موافق

نیل آورده بنفشه با میل
تا بر رخ نسترن کشد نیل

گوگرد سرشت بود میلش
وان شعله نیلگون دلیلش

نرگس همه دیده از کناره
می کرد به این و آن نظاره

سوسن همه تن زبان به هر سوی
می بود ازین و آن سخنگوی

در بازی و رقص نوغزالان
با یکدیگر چو خردسالان

گه این یک ازان ربوده لاله
گه آن یک ازین کشیده ناله

لب سرخ ز سرخ لاله خوردن
پا سبز ز سبزه ها سپردن

گشته رمه آهوان بسیار
از سبزه و گل مه چراخوار

لیکن رمه ای به قوت تگ
آزاده هم از شبان هم از سگ

چون دید کثیر آن نکو رای
انبوهی آهوان به یک جای

برگشت به صیدگاه مجنون
کای خاطر تو به صید مفتون

خیز و دل ازین مقام بر کن
دامن درچین و دام برکن

یکدم به فلان زمین بزن گام
واندر ره آهوان فکن دام

تا پی در پی شکار بینی
وانگه به فراغ دل نشینی

بگریست که آن حمای لیلی ست
چون کعبه حرامسرای لیلی ست

آنجا لیلی مقام کرده ست
با همزادان خرام کرده ست

چون کبک دری شده خرامان
بر سبزه و گل کشیده دامان

هر سبزه کزان زمین دمیده ست
روزی دامن بر آن کشیده ست

هر خار که خاسته ست زان خاک
افکنده چو گل به دامنش چاک

گلهاش که رنگ و بو گرفته ست
از عارض و زلف او گرفته ست

هر لاله به خون که چهره شسته
از خاک به داغ اوست رسته

نرگس که گشاده چشم بیناست
چشمش به نیاز خاک آن پاست

سوسن که زبان دراز کرده
وصف رخ اوست ساز کرده

افتاده بنفشه از ذلیلی
در فرقت اوست جامه نیلی

آهو بچگان که مشکبویند
از تیر مژه شکار اویند

باشد که رسد ز راه ناگاه
هستند نهاده چشم بر راه

زان روز که زان زمین گذشته ست
صیدش چو حرم حرام گشته ست

آهو که چرد به مرغزارش
چون دام نهم پی شکارش

باشد دل و جان فگار اویم
کی نیک فتد شکار اویم

هر گه که کشد دلم به آن جای
از دیده خونفشان کنم پای

گردش گردم چو حج گزاران
چون چشمه زمزم اشکباران

نی آهوی او ز من کند رم
نی شاخ گیاه او کنم خم

چون لاله به خاک و خون نشستن
خوش تر که گیاه او شکستن

وز ناوک غم شکار ماندن
بهتر که شکار او رماندن

این گفت و پی شکار خود رفت
لیلی گویان به کار خود رفت

لیلی می گفت و کار می کرد
هر دم صیدی شکار می کرد

می بوسیدش به جای لیلی
پس می کردش فدای لیلی

کارش این بود صبح تا شام
زین کار نبود هیچش آرام

English translation

When Kathir, that skilled one, went a little beyond that hunting ground, he saw an adorned meadow, a keepsake of the garden of paradise. From its herbage the ground was like a green carpet, and with blossoms it was patterned with many-colored flowers. Or it was a scripture whose letters were of emerald, with tulips marking vermilion upon it; or a page on which, in verdigris, alef upon alef had been written in repetition; as though the children of the grass in springtime were practicing their penmanship upon it; or a coat of mail hidden in rust, drawn tightly over the body by the greenery, so that the arrow of the cloud and the dart of the lightning might not sink into its breast and frame. The tulip had brought forth from the pocket of the earth a cup out of fresh carnelian; or a goblet full of ripe ruby, a spear full of pure emerald, which the wind, glorying in its play, spins about like the jugglers of bowls; or it is a torch, brightly ablaze, burning without oil and without wick, whose meticulous torch-bearer has planted its foot firmly in the ground. Its red rose embraces the jasmine; its wallflower is in harmony with the jasmine. The violet has brought indigo with a probe, to draw indigo upon the cheek of the wild rose; its probe was of sulfur-nature, and that indigo flame its proof. The narcissus, all eye, from the margin was gazing upon this and that. The lily, all its body a tongue in every direction, was speaking of this and that. In play and dance the young gazelles, with one another like little children: now this one snatched a tulip from that, now that one drew a wail from this; lips reddened from eating red tulips, feet greened from treading the greensward. The herd of gazelles had grown numerous, grazing abundantly on herbage and flowers. But one herd, by strength of running, was free of both the shepherd and the dog. When Kathir, that good-minded one, beheld a multitude of gazelles in one place, he turned back to Majnun's hunting ground: O you whose mind is enthralled with the chase, rise and detach your heart from this spot; gather your skirt and set up the snare. Step for a moment onto such-and-such a land, and cast a net in the path of the gazelles, so that you may see game one after another, and then sit with a heart at ease. He wept, saying: That is Layla's sanctuary; like the Kaaba it is Layla's sacred precinct. There Layla has made her dwelling; with her companions she has strolled about, strutting like a mountain partridge, trailing her skirt over herbage and flowers. Every blade that has sprung from that ground, one day she has trailed her skirt upon it. Every thorn that has risen from that soil, like a flower it has torn a slit in her hem. Its flowers that have taken on color and scent, took them from her cheek and her tresses. Every tulip that has washed its face in blood has grown from that soil with her brand. The narcissus, with its open seeing eye, its eye is fixed in longing for the dust of those feet. The lily that has stretched out its tongue has set about praising her face. The violet has fallen down in humbleness; in separation from her its robe is indigo. The gazelle fawns that are musk-scented are the prey of the arrow of her eyelashes; perhaps she may suddenly come along the road, and they keep their eyes fixed upon the way. From the day she passed through that land, hunting there has become forbidden like the holy sanctuary. The gazelle that grazes in her meadow, how should I set a snare to hunt it? May I be wounded in heart and soul for her; how could the hunting of what is hers turn out well for me? Whenever my heart draws me toward that place, I make my feet from my blood-raining eyes. I circle round it like the pilgrims of the Hajj, weeping tears like the spring of Zamzam. Neither does her gazelle flee from me, nor do I bend a single stalk of her grass. To sit in dust and blood like the tulip is sweeter than to break her grass; and to remain a prey to the dart of grief is better than to scare away her prey. This he said, and went after his own hunt; uttering Layla's name, he went about his work. He kept saying Layla and doing his work; every moment he hunted down some game. He kissed it in place of Layla, then made it a sacrifice for Layla. This was his labor from morning until evening; from this labor he had no rest at all.

Updated 2026-07-19

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