1Cademy - بخش ۱۳ - گذاشتن مجنون ناقه بچه دار را که در وقت استغراق وی در محبت لیلی به سوی بچه خود باز می گشت و از لیلی دور می انداخت / Section 13 - Majnun Leaving the She-Camel with a Calf, Which, While He Was Immersed in Love for Layla, Kept Returning Toward Its Own Calf and Carrying Him Away from Layla

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Haft Awrang

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بخش ۱۳ - گذاشتن مجنون ناقه بچه دار را که در وقت استغراق وی در محبت لیلی به سوی بچه خود باز می گشت و از لیلی دور می انداخت / Section 13 - Majnun Leaving the She-Camel with a Calf, Which, While He Was Immersed in Love for Layla, Kept Returning Toward Its Own Calf and Carrying Him Away from Layla

Original content

عشق اول او سرود و شادیست
بیرون ز آهنگ نامرادیست

نی رنج غرامت است در وی
نی زخم ملامت است در وی

سرمایه راحت و سرور است
از سود و زیان دهر دور است

چون می که نخست جز خوشی نیست
یک ذره در او مشوشی نیست

محنت کاهد طرب فزاید
وز دل غم روز و شب زداید

نی دردی ناگوار دارد
نی درد سر خمار دارد

قیس از می عشق شادمانه
فارغ ز کشاکش زمانه

هر روز که بامداد کردی
در کار خود ایستاد کردی

از منزل خویش بار بستی
احرام حریم یار بستی

کردی چو بر آن قبیله اقبال
رستی ز تنش دو صد پر و بال

بر بوی وصال شاد رفتی
بی زحمت پا چو باد رفتی

بودی به رهش دمیده نشتر
از سبزه به زیر پای خوشتر

زآتش صد کوه پشت بر پشت
بودیش ز ریگ گرم یک مشت

گر ناوک خار و تیغ خاره
کردی کف پاش پاره پاره

بنمودیش اندر آن تک و پوی
از هر پاره و درستی روی

زان قبله جان چو بازگشتی
چون کعبه رهش دراز گشتی

بودی به حساب خاطر تنگ
هر گام بر او هزار فرسنگ

رفتی به دو چشم اشکپالا
چون آب روان به سوی بالا

پویان قدمش به منزل خویش
مویش ز قفا کشان دل ریش

هر بار که رو به راه کردی
صد بار به پس نگاه کردی

تا بو که کسی برآید از راه
ک آرد خبری به وی ازان ماه

می رفت چو سیل از سر کوه
می آمد همچو کوه اندوه

می رفت چو باد تیز در دشت
چون آب ستاده باز می گشت

روزی ز قضا تنی ز تب سست
ره سوی دیار یار می جست

پایش به روش نکرد یاری
بی واسطه شتر سواری

یک ناقه بچه دار بودش
کز بچه به دل قرار بودش

از بچه اگر جدا فتادی
در فرقت او ز پا فتادی

قیس از بچه ناقه را جدا کرد
رو در ره یار دلربا کرد

میلی دو سه چونکه راه بسپرد
اندیشه لیلی از خودش برد

ناقه چو زمام سستتر دید
بر بوی بچه ز راه گردید

آن لحظه که قیس را خبر شد
تا بچه خویش رهسپر شد

زان قصه چو قیس آگهی یافت
دامن ز مراد خود تهی یافت

رو کرد به راه ناقه را باز
وز نغمه شوق شد حدی ساز

میلی دو سه چون برید ناقه
دور از بچه رنج دید و فاقه

شد قیس رمیده دل دگر بار
بی خود ز هجوم عشق دلدار

چون قیس ز ناقه بی خبر گشت
ناقه به ره گذشته برگشت

این قصه چو قیس بر سر آورد
بار دگرش به ره درآورد

بر قیس ز دست داده چاره
این واقعه شد سه چار باره

زآمد شد ناقه شد دلش خون
این راز ز سینه داد بیرون

کان گنج که من خراب اویم
منزلگه اوست پیش رویم

وان بچه که ناقه را غمش کشت
آرامگهش بود پس پشت

گر روی به مقصد من آرد
بی مقصد خویش جان سپارد

ور روی کند به مقصد خویش
زان غصه شود درون من ریش

همراهی ما به هم محال است
خوشنودی ما ز هم خیال است

آن به که ز دل گره گشاییم
هر یک به ره دگر گراییم

این گفت و ز ناقه رخت بگشاد
بند از دل لخت لخت بگشاد

او را به دیار خویش بگذاشت
تنها ره یار خویش برداشت

شد در ره او به فرق پویان
با خویشتن این سرود گویان

کای دل به موافقان درآویز
وز چنگ مخالفان بپرهیز

در راه وفا قدم ز سر کن
وآیین جفا ز سر به در کن

زین راه کسی که داردت باز
از همرهیش درون بپرداز

گر هست به رهرویت میلی
همراه تو بس خیال لیلی

لیلی می گوی و راه می رو
وآسوده درین پناه می رو

لیلی ز جهان تو را پسند است
هر کس که جز اوست بر تو بند است

از هر چه نه اوست بند بگسل
پیوند ز ناپسند بگسل

می زد زینسان ترانه خاص
می رفت بر آن ترانه رقاص

پا کرده ز سر به رسم هر روز
پی برد به کوی آن دل افروز

هر چیز که بود دیدنی دید
رازی که توان شنید بشنید

چون شب شد ازان مقام برگشت
با خوشدلی تمام برگشت

آمد غمگین و رفت دلشاد
حال دل عاشقان چنین باد

English translation

Love, at first, is a song and joy, beyond the tune of despair. Neither the pain of penalty is in it, nor the wound of blame is in it. It is the capital of ease and delight, far from the profit and loss of the age. Like wine, in which at first there is nothing but pleasure, not a mote of turmoil is in it. It lessens hardship and increases joy, and clears the sorrow of day and night from the heart. Neither does it have an unpleasant dreg, nor the headache of a hangover. Qays, joyful from the wine of love, was free from the struggles of the age. Each day when dawn came, he set himself firmly to his task. He packed his load from his own dwelling, and donned the pilgrim's garb for the sanctuary of the beloved. When he turned toward that tribe, two hundred wings and feathers sprouted from his body. Joyful at the scent of union he went, without any effort of foot, he went like the wind. The lancets sprouted along his path were sweeter beneath his feet than green grass. The fire of a hundred mountains, layer upon layer, was to him but a handful of hot sand. If the arrow of thorns and the blade of flint tore the soles of his feet to shreds, they showed him, amid that running and striving, from every wound a face of wholeness. When he returned from that qibla of the soul, like the Kaaba, his road grew long. By the reckoning of his anguished heart, each step upon him was a thousand leagues. He went with two tear-shedding eyes, like flowing water toward the heights. His feet striving toward his own home, his hair dragging behind, his heart wounded. Each time he set his face to the road, a hundred times he looked back, in hope that someone might come along the road to bring him news of that moon. He went like a torrent from the mountaintop, he came back like a mountain of grief. He went like a swift wind across the plain, and returned like standing water. One day, by fate, his body weakened by fever, he sought the road to the beloved's land. His foot gave him no aid in walking, leaving him no means but riding a camel. He had a she-camel with a calf, whose heart found its rest in her calf. If she were parted from her calf, in separation from it she would collapse. Qays separated the she-camel from her calf, and set his face on the road to the heart-ravishing beloved. When he had traveled two or three miles, the thought of Layla carried him away from himself. When the she-camel found the reins slacker, at the scent of her calf she turned from the road. By the moment Qays became aware, she had journeyed back toward her own calf. When Qays learned of that matter, he found his skirt empty of his desire. He turned the she-camel back to the road, and with a song of longing struck up a caravan-tune. When the she-camel had covered two or three miles, far from her calf she felt pain and distress. Qays became distraught-hearted once again, beside himself from the onslaught of the beloved's love. When Qays grew heedless of the she-camel, she turned back along the road she had passed. When Qays brought this matter to a head, once more he set her upon the road. For Qays, who had lost all remedy, this event happened three or four times. From the coming and going of the she-camel his heart turned to blood, and he brought this secret out from his breast: That treasure by whom I am ruined— her dwelling lies before me. And that calf, whose grief kills the she-camel— its resting place lies behind. If she turns her face to my goal, she will give up her life without her own goal. And if she turns toward her own goal, from that grief my inward being is wounded. Our companionship together is impossible, our contentment with each other is but a fancy. Better that we loosen the knot from our hearts, and each incline to a different road. He said this and unloaded his baggage from the she-camel, and loosed the bond, piece by piece, from his heart. He left her to her own land, and alone took up the road to his beloved. He went upon his road, striving with all his being, singing this song to himself: O heart, cling to those who are in accord, and shun the grip of those who oppose. On the road of faithfulness, step forth risking your head, and cast the custom of cruelty out of your head. Whoever holds you back from this road, empty your inward being of companionship with them. If you have any inclination to wayfaring, the image of Layla is companion enough for you. Say 'Layla' and walk the road, and go at ease within this refuge. Layla, of all the world, is your choice; everyone but her is a fetter upon you. From all that is not her, break the bond; sever your tie from the undesired. Thus he sang his special song, and to that song he went dancing. Setting foot as was his daily custom, he made his way to the lane of that heart-kindler. Everything worth seeing he saw, every secret that could be heard he heard. When night fell he returned from that place, he returned with complete gladness of heart. He came sorrowful and went away glad-hearted— may the state of lovers' hearts be thus.

Updated 2026-07-19

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Ganjoor

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