1Cademy - بخش ۵۱ - حیران شدن معتمر در آنکه آن زاری کننده که بود و پشیمان شدن که چرا دنبال آواز نرفت / Section 51 - Mutamars Bewilderment as to Who the Lamenter Was, and His Regret for Not Following the Voice

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بخش ۵۱ - حیران شدن معتمر در آنکه آن زاری کننده که بود و پشیمان شدن که چرا دنبال آواز نرفت / Section 51 - Mu'tamar's Bewilderment as to Who the Lamenter Was, and His Regret for Not Following the Voice

Original content

معتمر چون بدید صورت حال
بر ضمیرش نشست گرد ملال

گام زد در ره پریشانی
داد رخت خرد به حیرانی

کان همه نالش از زبان که بود
وان همه سوزش از فغان که بود

چیست این ناله کیست نالنده
باز در خامشی سگالنده

آدمی یا نه آدمیست پریست
کآدمی وار کرده نوحه گریست

کاش چون خاست از دلش ناله
ناله را رفتمی ز دنباله

تا به نالنده راه یافتمی
پرده راز او شکافتمی

کردمی غور در نظاره گری
دست بگشادمی به چاره گری

چون بدین حال یک دو لحظه گذشت
حال آن دل رمیده باز بگشت

تیز برداشت همچو چنگ آواز
غزلی جانگداز کرد آغاز

غزل سینه سوز و دردآمیز
غزلی صبر کاه و شوق انگیز

بیت بیتش مقام سوز و نیاز
در هر مصرعش ز عیش فراز

حرف حرفش همه فسانه درد
نغمه محنت و ترانه درد

اولش نور عشق را مطلع
وآخرش روز وصل را مقطع

در قوافیش شرح سینه تنگ
بحر او رهنما به کام نهنگ

گه در او ذکر یار و منزل او
وصف شیرینی شمایل او

گه در او عجز و خواری عاشق
قصه خاکساری عاشق

گه در او محنت درازی شب
عمر کاهی و جانگدازی شب

گه در او داستان روز فراق
حرقت داغ شوق و سوز فراق

English translation

When Mu'tamar saw the state of affairs, the dust of sorrow settled upon his mind. He took steps along the path of distress; he surrendered the garments of intellect to bewilderment. Asking himself, 'From whose tongue did all that wailing come? And from whose cry was all that burning pain?' 'What is this lament? Who is this lamenter, meditating once again in silence?' 'Is it a human or not? Is it a fairy, who has wailed in a human-like manner?' 'Would that when the cry arose from his heart, I had followed the path of that cry!' 'So that I might find a way to the lamenter and tear open the veil of his secret.' 'I would have deeply observed him and stretched out my hand to offer a remedy.' When a moment or two passed in this state, the condition of that runaway heart changed again. He raised his voice sharply like a harp, and began a soul-melting ghazal. A breast-burning and pain-laden ghazal, a patience-reducing and longing-instigating ghazal. Verse by verse, it was a station of burning passion and supplication; in each hemistich, a turning away from comfort. Letter by letter, it was entirely a legend of pain, a melody of affliction and a song of sorrow. Its dawning-place was the light of love, and its end was the closing-place of the day of union. In its rhymes was the explanation of a constricted chest, its meter leading to the jaws of a leviathan. At times mentioning the beloved and her abode, describing the sweetness of her disposition. At times describing the lover's helplessness and wretchedness, the story of the lover's humility. At times detailing the affliction of the night's length, the life-shortening and soul-consuming nature of the night. At times the story of the day of separation, the burning of the scar of yearning, and the fire of parting.

Updated 2026-07-07

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