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بخش ۳۱ - ملاقات کردن مجنون با شبان لیلی و خبر یافتن که مردان قبیله لیلی به غارت بیرون رفته اند و پیش لیلی رفتن وی / Section 31 - Majnun Meeting Layla's Shepherd and Learning that the Men of Layla's Tribe Have Gone Out to Raid, and His Going to Layla

Original content

خورشید به وقت بامدادان
چون داد مراد نامرادان

یعنی که به آفتابه زر ریخت
وز حقه پر گهر گهر ریخت

مجنون به هزار نامرادی
می گشت به گرد کوه و وادی

لیلی می گفت و راه می رفت
همراه سرشک و آه می رفت

هر جا که ز پای رهنوردی
دیدی به هوا ز دور گردی

چون باد صبا هواش کردی
سرمه ز غبار پاش کردی

پر شعله دلی ز داغ لیلی
از وی کردی سراغ لیلی

ناگه رمه ای برآمد از راه
سردار رمه شبانی آگاه

در وادی جست و جو کلیمی
از پشم سیه به بر گلیمی

موسی وارش به کف عصایی
در دیده گرگ اژدهایی

از فرق به سوی او قدم ساخت
چون سایه به پای او سر انداخت

گفت ای دل و جان من فدایت
روشن بصرم به خاک پایت

یابم ز تو بوی آشنایی
آخر تو کیی و از کجایی

این طرفه رمه که از بز و میش
گرد تو گرفته از پس و پیش

گردی که ز راهشان برآید
زان نکهت مشک و عنبر آید

این بوی ز منزل که دارند
شب پیش در که می گذارند

گفتا که شبان لیلی ام من
پرورده خوان لیلی ام من

هست این رمه مایه بخش خوانش
آبادان ساز خان ومانش

اینک سر و گوششان نشانمند
از داغ و دروش آن خداوند

شب خفتنشان به مسکن اوست
این عطر ز بوی دامن اوست

هر جا که کشد به ناز دامان
گیسوافشان شود خرامان

گردد همه مشکبو زمینش
جانبخش نسیم عنبرینش

مجنون چو نشان دوست بشنید
چون اشک به خون و خاک غلطید

افتاد ز پای رفته از کار
چشم از نظر و زبان ز گفتار

بی خود به زمین فتاد تا دیر
در بی خودی ایستاد تا دیر

وآخر که به هوشیاری آمد
در پیش شبان به زاری آمد

کای محرم خیل خانه دوست
شبها سگ آستانه دوست

امروز ز وی خبر چه داری
گو روشن و راست هر چه داری

سینه ز غمش پر است تا لب
از بهر خدا که بر گشا لب

گفتا که کنون خوش است در حی
کس نیست به گرد خیمه وی

در خیمه خود نشسته تنهاست
چون ماه میان هاله یکتاست

مردان قبیله رخت بستند
وز عرصه حی برون نشستند

دارند هوای آنکه غافل
بر قصد گروهی از قبایل

سازند کمین به صبحگاهان
بر غارت مال بی پناهان

از وی چو سماع این بشارت
صبری که نداشت کرد غارت

گفتا به شبان که ای نکو خوی
لطفی بکن و رضای من جوی

این کهنه گلیم خود به من ده
صد منت ازان به جان من نه

چون بخت گلیم من سیه بافت
بخت تو به آن ره از کجا یافت

محروم ز دلبر قدیمی
من بعد من و سیه گلیمی

باشد که زنم چنانکه دانی
طبل طربی در او نهانی

هر چند برون بود ز امکان
در زیر گلیم طبل پنهان

این گفت و گلیم را بپوشید
می رفت و ز شوق می خروشید

رو کرد به سوی آن قبیله
از بهر وصال آن جمیله

لیلی جویان به حی درآمد
فریاد ز جان وی برآمد

در هر قدمی که پیش می رفت
اندک اندک ز خویش می رفت

چشمش چو به خانه وی افتاد
شد خانه هستیش ز بنیاد

بانگی بزد از درون غمناک
وافتاد به سان سایه بر خاک

لیلی چو شنید بانگ بشناخت
از خانه برون مقام خود ساخت

بیرون از در چه دید مجنون
افتاده ز عقل و هوش بیرون

بالای سرش نشست خونریز
از نرگس شوخ فتنه انگیز

از گریه به روش آب می زد
نی آب که خون ناب می زد

زان خواب گران به هوشش آورد
در غلغله و خروشش آورد

برخاست به روی دوست دیدن
بنشست به گفتن و شنیدن

هر دو به سخن زبان گشادند
غم های گذشته شرح دادند

مجنون ز شکایت سفر گفت
لیلی ز غم وطن گهر سفت

آن خواند حدیث کوه و وادی
وین قصه کنج نامرادی

آن بود ز ناله درددل گوی
وین بود ز گریه خون دل شوی

آن گفت که بی رخت بجانم
این گفت که من فزون از آنم

آن گفت دلم هزار پاره ست
این گفت که این زمان چه چاره ست

آن گفت شدم ز جان خود سیر
این گفت که مرگ من رسد دیر

آن گفت که هجر جانگداز است
این گفت که وصل چاره ساز است

آن گفت که بی تو دردناکم
این گفت که از غمت هلاکم

آن گفت مراست دل ز غم ریش
این گفت مراست ریش ازان بیش

آن گفت نمی روم ازین کوی
این گفت به ترک جان خود گوی

آن گفت در آتشم ز دوری
این گفت که پیشه کن صبوری

آن گفت که صبر نیست کارم
این گفت جز این دوا ندارم

آن گفت که خوش بود رهایی
این گفت ز محنت جدایی

آن گفت فغان ز کینه کیشان
این گفت که باد مرگ ایشان

آن گفت دلم ز غم دو نیم است
این گفت چه غم خدا کریم است

چون گفته شد آنچه گفتنی بود
وان راز که هم نهفتنی بود

زد شعله درون لیلی از بیم
کان قوم ز عقل و دین به یک نیم

ناگاه ز راه در نیایند
وان دلشده را به سر نیایند

بر وی نکشند تیغ بیداد
و او را نرسد کسی به فریاد

گفت ای ز میان عاشقان فرد
در راه وفا به جان جوانمرد

برخیز که تیغ چرخ تیز است
با ما و تو بر سر ستیز است

با هم به وداع ایستادند
وز هر مژه سیل خوش گشادند

آن روی به دشت کرد یا کوه
وین ماند به جا چو کوه اندوه

اینست بلی زمانه را خوی
آسودگی از زمانه کم جوی

صد سال بلا و رنج بینی
ک آسوده یکی نفس نشینی

ناکرده تو جای خویشتن گرم
هیچش ناید ز روی تو شرم

دستت گیرد که زود برخیز
پایت کوبد به سر که بگریز

English translation

The sun at morning time, when it granted the desire of the desireless, That is, it poured gold from the ewer, and from the jewel-filled casket scattered pearls. Majnun, with a thousand frustrations, was wandering around mountain and valley. Saying 'Layla,' he walked the road, traveling in company with tears and sighs. Wherever, from the foot of a wayfarer, he saw dust in the air from afar, Like the morning breeze he longed for it, and made collyrium of the dust of its feet. With a heart full of flame from Layla's brand, he would seek news of Layla from it. Suddenly a flock came up the road, the leader of the flock a knowing shepherd, In the valley of search, a Moses-like man, with a cloak of black wool upon his body, Moses-like, a staff in his hand, in the wolf's eye a very dragon. From afar he stepped toward him, and like a shadow cast his head at his feet. He said, 'O may my heart and soul be sacrificed for you, my bright eyesight upon the dust of your feet. I catch from you the scent of familiarity; after all, who are you, and from where? This wondrous flock of goats and sheep has gathered around you from behind and before. The dust that rises from their path, from it comes the fragrance of musk and ambergris. This scent, from whose dwelling do they carry it? By whose door do they pass the night?' He said, 'I am Layla's shepherd; I am nourished at Layla's table. This flock is the bounty of her board, the sustainer of her household and home. Behold, their heads and ears are marked with the brand and stamp of that mistress. Their night's sleep is in her abode; this perfume is from the scent of her skirt. Wherever she trails her skirt in coquetry, scattering her hair, she walks gracefully, All her ground becomes musk-scented, her ambergris breeze becomes life-giving.' When Majnun heard the sign of the beloved, like a tear he rolled in blood and dust. He fell, undone, off his feet, eye robbed of sight and tongue of speech. Beside himself he lay on the ground a long while; in that swoon he remained a long while. At last, when he came back to his senses, he came before the shepherd, wailing: 'O confidant of the beloved's household troop, the nightly dog of the beloved's threshold, What news have you of her today? Tell, clear and true, all that you have. My breast is full of grief for her up to the lip; for God's sake, open your lips.' He said, 'Now she is well in the encampment; no one is about her tent. She sits alone in her own tent, like the moon, unique amid its halo. The men of the tribe have packed up and settled beyond the camp's field. They mean, catching them off guard, to move against a group of the tribes, To set an ambush at daybreak and plunder the goods of the defenseless.' When he heard this glad tidings from him, the patience he did not have was plundered. He said to the shepherd, 'O good-natured one, do a kindness and win my content: Give me this old woolen cloak of yours, and lay a hundred favors upon my soul by it. Since my fortune wove my cloak black, how did your fortune find its way to that? Deprived of my old beloved, henceforth it is me and a black cloak. Perhaps I may beat, as you know, a drum of joy hidden within it— Though it be beyond all possibility, a drum concealed beneath a cloak.' He said this and put on the cloak; he went, crying out from longing. He turned his face toward that tribe, for union with that beauty. Seeking Layla, he entered the encampment; a cry rose up from his soul. With every step that he went forward, little by little he departed from himself. When his eye fell upon her house, the house of his being was uprooted from its foundation. He gave a sorrowful cry from within and fell like a shadow upon the dust. When Layla heard the cry, she knew it, and made her place outside the house. Outside the door, what did she see—Majnun, fallen, gone out of reason and sense. She sat over his head, blood-shedding, with her playful, mischief-stirring narcissus-eyes. With weeping she splashed water on his face— not water, but pure blood she splashed. From that heavy sleep she brought him to his senses, brought him into clamor and outcry. He rose to gaze upon the beloved's face; he sat to speak and to listen. Both loosed their tongues to speech and related their past sorrows. Majnun told his complaint of the journey; Layla pierced pearls of the grief of home. He recited the tale of mountain and valley, and she the story of the corner of frustration. He was, through moaning, the teller of heart's pain; she was, through weeping, the washer of heart's blood. He said, 'Without your face I barely live'; she said, 'I am even more so than that.' He said, 'My heart is a thousand pieces'; she said, 'What remedy is there now?' He said, 'I have grown weary of my life'; she said, 'May my own death come late.' He said, 'Separation is soul-melting'; she said, 'Union is the remedy.' He said, 'Without you I am full of pain'; she said, 'From grief for you I am destroyed.' He said, 'My heart is wounded from grief'; she said, 'Mine is wounded more than that.' He said, 'I will not leave this lane'; she said, 'Then bid farewell to your own life.' He said, 'I am in fire from being apart'; she said, 'Make patience your practice.' He said, 'Patience is not my work'; she said, 'I have no cure but this.' He said, 'Release would be sweet'; she said, 'Sweet, release from the torment of separation.' He said, 'Alas, from the vengeful ones'; she said, 'May death be upon them.' He said, 'My heart is torn in two from grief'; she said, 'What grief? God is generous.' When all that was to be said was said, and that secret which was also to be hidden, A flame flared within Layla from fear that those people, half in reason and religion, Might suddenly arrive upon the road and come upon that lovelorn one, And draw the sword of injustice upon him, with no one coming to his aid. She said, 'O you, singular among lovers, on the path of faith, chivalrous with your life, Arise, for the sword of the wheel of fate is sharp; it is bent on strife with both you and me.' Together they stood to their farewell, and from every eyelash loosed a pleasant flood. He turned his face to the plain or mountain, and she remained in place like a mountain of grief. Yes, such indeed is the nature of the age; seek little ease from the age. A hundred years of affliction and pain you see, that you may sit at ease a single breath. Before you have warmed your own place, it feels no shame at all before you. It takes your hand: 'Rise quickly!' It beats your foot upon your head: 'Flee!'

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Updated 2026-07-19

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Humanities

Literature

Persian Literature Prerequisite Course

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