1Cademy - بخش ۴۰ - میهمان شدن مجنون شخصی را و هم آواز شدن با مرغی که از جفت خود جدا افتاده بود و ناله و فریاد می کرد / Section 40 - Majnun Becoming Someones Guest and Joining in Song with a Bird that Had Been Separated from its Mate and Was Wailing and Crying Out

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بخش ۴۰ - میهمان شدن مجنون شخصی را و هم آواز شدن با مرغی که از جفت خود جدا افتاده بود و ناله و فریاد می کرد / Section 40 - Majnun Becoming Someone's Guest and Joining in Song with a Bird that Had Been Separated from its Mate and Was Wailing and Crying Out

Original content

چون زرده بیضه های گردون
آمد سحر از سپیده بیرون

زیر خم طاق لاجوردی
زان زرده زمین گرفت زردی

مجنون پی جست و جوی دلبر
برداشت ز خواب بیخودی سر

لیلی گویان به ره درآمد
تا نوبت چاشتگه سر آمد

می شد چو سموم نیمروزان
افتان خیزان به ریگ سوزان

لب تشنه ز آه دشنه می کرد
بر سینه ز آه دشنه می خورد

می جست چو صید زخم خورده
از صیدگران کناره کرده

ناگه به دهی گذارش افتاد
چون باغ بهشت راحت آباد

در وادی گرم شد پدیدار
از نار خلیل تازه گلزار

گشت از تف خور شده چو زاغی
دیوارنشین طرفه باغی

آمد به نیاز خواجه باغ
کای باز سیاه گشته چون زاغ

منت نه و میهمان من باش
زینت ده آشیان من باش

دیوار نه آشیانه توست
در دیده نشین که خانه توست

غم نیست اگر سیه نهادی
در دیده روشنم سوادی

مجنون ز نیاز آن جوانمرد
جنبید و هوای آشیان کرد

چون ورد عرابیان بیجیف
نحن العرب است و نکرم الضیف

او هم ز کرم کشید خوانی
در پیش گزیده میهمانی

وآماده نهاد بر سر خوان
شهد صافی و مرغ بریان

مجنون نگشاد سوی خوان دست
وز خوردن آن لب و دهان بست

گفتا کاینها طعام من نیست
در خورد گلو و کام من نیست

آیین دد است صید کردن
وز پهلوی کشته لقمه خوردن

بر من همه جانور حرامند
زان رو با من همیشه رامند

دندان کردی به خونشان تیز
ناچار کنند از تو پرهیز

از شیره نحل آیدم قی
قی کرده نحل کی خورم کی

از بیخ نبات های شیرین
شد تلخ به کام ذوق من این

حلوای نبات من همین بس
لیک این نشود خورای هر کس

در چاشتگهان طعامش این بود
شب هم چو رسید شامش این بود

شب رونق روز را چو بشکست
شد خواجه به خانه خواب و دربست

در صحن سراش بود نخلی
آسان خرجی نفیس دخلی

خرجش ز نم سحاب توشه
دخلش سر و شاخ غرق خوشه

هر خوشه رواجبخش خوانها
شیرین کن تلخی دهان ها

خوشه نه که شوشه های زر بود
هر یک سلک عقیق تر بود

رنگش چو عقیق و چاشنی شهد
لب طالب کام او به صد جهد

قدی چو قد شکر دهانان
مرغان ز سرش نشید خوانان

مجنون به خیال قد لیلی
دریافت به وی ز خویش میلی

سر بر قدمش نهاد و بگریست
کز دوست جدا نه خوش توان زیست

خوش آن که ز دوست بهره مند است
وز بوسه به پاش سربلند است

کردم به طلب همه جهان طی
در دستم ازو نه پای نی پی

امروز به درد و سوز من کیست
وز تیره شبی به روز من کیست

او بود درین که مرغی از شاخ
برداشت نوا به ناله گستاخ

می کرد چنان فغانی از درد
کاندر دل سنگ رخنه می کرد

می داد ز پر خراش آواز
چون نوحه گران ترانه ها ساز

از عود شجر که بی وتر بود
هر لحظه به پرده دگر بود

هر دم که ز غم زدی نوایی
از هر پرش آمدی صدایی

گویی که ز ناله های پر حال
موسیقاریش بود هر بال

یا خود چنگی ز ناله زار
رگ های تنش بر آن چو اوتار

در هر نفش استخوان پرهاش
مضراب زننده بر وترهاش

مجنون چو شنید ناله او
شد محنت و غم حواله او

هر چند که ناله زارتر شد
جان و دل او فگارتر شد

آن ناله چو زار شد ز حد بیش
افتاد برون ز طاقت خویش

برجست به فرق خاک ده روفت
تا خواجه و در بر او فرو کوفت

کای خواجه خانه این چه حال است
کز جان خود امشبم ملال است

این مرغ چه درد و سوز دارد
کین ناوک سینه سوز دارد

از ناله او که دردناک است
در سینه من هزار چاک است

زین نغمه غم که می سراید
ترسم جانم ز تن برآید

این نوحه او ز پرده راز
از درد من است قصه پرداز

گفتا دو حمامه مطوق
بودند به صد صفا و رونق

زین نخل گرفته آشیانه
بر طارم شاخ کرده خانه

با هم بودی به خانه دمساز
با هم کردی بر اوج پرواز

با هم رفتی و دانه خوردی
تا چشمه آب ره سپردی

نی هرگزشان ز هم ملالی
نی دیده ز هجر گوشمالی

از دامنشان به گاه و بیگاه
آفات زمانه دست کوتاه

زین پیش به یک دو روز بازی
در شیوه صید حیله سازی

ره یافت به آشیان ایشان
شد تفرقه گر میان ایشان

هر یک به گریز پر گشادند
مهجور ز یکدگر فتادند

این باز آمد به خانه خویش
وان ماند ز آشیانه خویش

معلوم نشد که حال او چیست
در چنگل باز مرد یا زیست

درد دل این ز دوری اوست
وز تفرقه ضروری اوست

مجنون چو شنید این فسانه
از خواجه آن سرا و خانه

بانگی بزد از درون پر تاب
کز زلزله ده درآمد از خواب

بگریست که درد من جز این نیست
زین درد کسی چو من حزین نیست

وانگه سوی نخل رفت و بنشست
بگشاد زبان به آن زبان بست

کای مرجان ساق لعل منقار
لعل تو گهر ز خاک بردار

فندق سر و فستقی پر و بال
همخرقه آسمان مه و سال

یاقوتی چشم عنبرین طوق
سر بر کرده ز چنبر شوق

ناقوسی دیر آشنایی
مزماری بزم بینوایی

چوبک زن کاخ این عماری
کافراخته شد ز چوب کاری

آگاهی بخش شب سیاهان
از غفلت خواب صبحگاهان

یارب که به سابق عنایت
وز لاحق فضل بی نهایت

گم کرده خویش را بیابی
وان دولت پیش را بیابی

ماند دامان این کرامت
موصول به دامن قیامت

من هم با تو درین بلایم
وافتاده ز یار خود جدایم

عمری من و یار خویش با هم
فارغ ز مخالفان عالم

همراز حریم قرب بودیم
در مهد وفا به هم غنودیم

نی در ره ما ز هجر خاری
نه بر رخ ما ز غم غباری

هم بسته زبان پندگویان
هم خسته درون عیبجویان

بودیم به هم دو مغز و یک پوست
پوشیده ز چشم دشمن و دوست

ایام ز سنگ بی وفایی
افکند میان ما جدایی

اکنون از هم نشسته فردیم
بی یکدیگر زبون دردیم

هیهات چه گفتم این دروغ است
خورشید دروغ بی فروغ است

من بر دل ازو چو لاله داغی
زان داغ منش چو گل فراخی

او فارغ و من عظیم مشتاق
او جفت کسان و من ز وی طاق

آن را که به عشقش آشناییست
این غم بتر از غم جداییست

پر قصه درد عالم از من
واو همدم دیگری کم از من

معشوقه به زیر خاره و خار
بهتر که بود به دست اغیار

میوه به زمین فتاده در باغ
زان به که به غارتش برد زاغ

این گفت و ز دیده سیل خون ریخت
خوناب دل از درون برون ریخت

وز خواجه میزبان جدا شد
معلوم نشد که تا کجا شد

English translation

When, like the yolk of the eggs of the sphere, dawn came forth from the twilight, beneath the arch of the azure vault, from that yolk the earth took on yellowness. Majnun, in quest of his beloved, raised his head from the sleep of self-oblivion. Saying 'Leyli,' he set out upon the road until the hour of forenoon came to an end. He moved like the midday simoom, stumbling and rising on the burning sand. Thirsty-lipped, from his sighs he forged a dagger, and upon his breast from his sighs he took the dagger's blow. He fled like a wounded prey that has withdrawn from the hunters. Suddenly he came upon a village like the garden of paradise, an abode of ease. In the hot valley there appeared, out of Abraham's fire, a fresh rose-garden. Blackened like a crow by the sun's heat, he sat upon the wall of a wondrous garden. The master of the garden came with kindness, saying: 'O falcon turned black as a crow, do me the favor and be my guest, adorn my nest. The wall is not your nest; sit in my eye, for that is your home. It is no sorrow if you are dark of nature— in my bright eye you are the pupil's blackness.' Majnun, from the kindness of that generous youth, stirred and desired the nest. Like the honest custom of the Arabs— 'We are the Arabs and we honor the guest.' He too, out of generosity, laid a table before his chosen guest, and ready he set upon the table pure honey and roasted fowl. Majnun did not stretch his hand toward the table, and from eating it he shut his lips and mouth. He said: 'These are not my food, not fit for my throat and palate. It is the way of beasts to hunt and to eat morsels from the flank of the slain. To me all animals are forbidden; that is why they are always tame with me. You have sharpened your teeth upon their blood— inevitably they shun you. From the bee's syrup nausea comes to me; how, when, should I eat the bee's vomit? From the root of sweet plants this has turned bitter to the palate of my taste. This candy of sugar is enough for me, but this does not become everyone's food.' At forenoon this was his food, and when night came, this too was his supper. When night broke the splendor of day, the master went to his house, slept, and shut the door. In the courtyard of his house was a palm-tree, of easy expense and precious yield: its expense a provision from the cloud's moisture, its yield a crown and boughs drowned in clusters. Each cluster gave currency to tables, sweetening the bitterness of mouths— not clusters, but ingots of gold, each a string of fresh carnelian. Its color like carnelian, its taste of honey, the lip that seeks its delight with a hundred efforts; a stature like the stature of the sweet-mouthed, birds singing songs from its top. Majnun, imagining Leyli's stature, felt within himself an inclination toward it. He laid his head at its foot and wept: 'Parted from the beloved, one cannot live well. Happy is the one who enjoys the beloved and is exalted by kissing its foot. In search I have traversed the whole world, yet in my hand of her is neither foot nor trace. Today who shares my pain and burning, and who is with me from dark night to day?' He was in this state when a bird from the branch raised a melody with a bold lament. It made such a cry of pain that it bored a hole into the heart of stone. It gave voice from the scratching of its feathers like mourners composing dirges. From the lute of the tree, which had no strings, every moment it was in a different mode. Every breath it struck a tune from grief, from each feather came a sound. As if from its impassioned laments each wing was its musician, or itself a harp of mournful wailing, the veins of its body upon it like strings; in each breath the bones of its feathers were the plectrum striking upon its strings. When Majnun heard its lament, affliction and grief were assigned to him. The more mournful the lament grew, the more wounded grew his soul and heart. When that lament turned mournful beyond measure, he fell out of his own endurance. He sprang up, swept the village dust with his crown, until he pounded upon the master and his door: 'O master of the house, what state is this, for tonight I am weary of my own life? What pain and burning does this bird have, that it bears this breast-burning arrow? From its lament, which is full of pain, in my breast are a thousand rents. From this song of grief that it sings, I fear my soul will leave my body. This lament of its, from the veil of secrets, is a storyteller of my own pain.' He said: 'Two ring-necked doves were, with a hundred purity and splendor, having taken a nest in this palm-tree, made their home on the top of the branch. Together they were companions in the home, together they flew to the heights, together they went and ate grain, traversing the road to the water-spring. Never any weariness of each other, nor had they seen the chastisement of parting. From their skirt, at all times, the calamities of the age kept their hand short. A day or two before this, a falcon, in the manner of hunting, weaving trickery, found its way to their nest and became a scatterer between them. Each spread its wings in flight, and they fell separated from each other. This one came back to its home, and that one remained away from its nest. It was not known what its state is— whether in the falcon's talons it died or lived. This one's heartache is from its distance, and from the separation forced upon it.' When Majnun heard this tale from the master of that house and home, he gave a cry from within, full of anguish, so that from the quake the village woke from sleep. He wept: 'My pain is none but this; from this pain no one is sorrowful like me.' Then he went to the palm-tree and sat, and opened his tongue to that tongue-tied one: 'O coral-legged, ruby-beaked one, your ruby, lift the jewel from the dust; hazelnut-headed and pistachio-winged, sharing the cloak of heaven for months and years; ruby-eyed, amber-collared, raising your head from the ring of longing; a bell of long acquaintance, a flute of the feast of destitution; the watchman-drummer of the palace of this litter, which is raised up by woodwork; awakener of the black-nighted ones from the heedlessness of morning sleep. O Lord, that by past grace and by ensuing infinite bounty you may find your lost one and attain that former fortune; may the skirt of this grace remain joined to the skirt of resurrection. I too am with you in this affliction, and have fallen parted from my own beloved. For a lifetime my beloved and I together, free from the world's adversaries, were confidants of the sanctuary of nearness, we slumbered together in the cradle of faithfulness. Neither in our path a thorn of separation, nor on our face a dust of grief. The tongues of the advice-givers were bound, and the hearts of the fault-finders wounded. We were together two kernels and one skin, hidden from the eye of enemy and friend. The days, with the stone of faithlessness, cast separation between us. Now we sit apart, alone, without each other, wretched in pain. Alas, what did I say—this is a lie; the sun of falsehood is without radiance. I bear from her upon my heart a brand like the tulip, yet from that brand she is spacious like the rose. She is free, and I greatly longing; she the mate of others, and I of her single. For one who is acquainted with her love, this grief is worse than the grief of parting. The world is full of the tale of my pain, and she a companion of another, caring less than I. The beloved beneath rock and thorn is better than to be in the hands of strangers; the fruit fallen to the ground in the garden is better than that a crow should carry it off in plunder.' He said this, and from his eye poured a flood of blood, the blood-water of his heart pouring out from within; and he parted from the host, the master, and it was not known where he went.

Updated 2026-07-19

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