1Cademy - بخش ۳ - در ارداف تسمیه به تحمید که فاتحه کتاب مجید و فاتح ابواب مزید است / Section 3 - On Appending the Pronouncing of Gods Name (Basmalah) with Praise (Tahmid), Which Is the Opening of the Glorious Book and the Opener of the Gates of Abundance

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۳ - در ارداف تسمیه به تحمید که فاتحه کتاب مجید و فاتح ابواب مزید است / Section 3 - On Appending the Pronouncing of God's Name (Basmalah) with Praise (Tahmid), Which Is the Opening of the Glorious Book and the Opener of the Gates of Abundance

Original content

آنچه نگارد پی این خوش رقم
بر سر هر نامه دبیر قلم

حمد خداییست که از کلک کن
بر ورق باد نویسد سخن

چون رقم او بود این تازه حرف
جز به ثنایش نتوان کرد صرف

لیک ثنایش ز بیان برتر است
هر چه زبان گوید ازان برتر است

نطق و ثنایش چه تمناست این
عقل و تمناش چه سوداست این

نیست سخن جز گرهی چند سست
طبع سخنور زده بر باد چست

هیچ گشادی نبود در گره
گر نشود کار به آن بند به

صد گره از رشته پر تاب و پیچ
گر بگشایند در آن نیست هیچ

عقل درین عقده ز خود گشته گم
کرده درین فکر سر رشته گم

رشته فکرش که سزد پر گهر
پر بود اینجا ز گره سر به سر

می دهد این رشته ز سبحه نشان
صد گره افتاده در او مهره سان

عقل گرفته به کفش سبحه وار
عاجزی خویش کند زان شمار

آنکه نه دم می زند از عجز کیست
غایت این کار بجز عجز چیست

عجز به از هر دل دانا که هست
بر در آن حی توانا که هست

مرسله بند گهر کان جود
سلسله پیوند نظام وجود

غره فروز سحر خاکیان
مشعله سوز شب افلاکیان

خوان کرامت نه آیندگان
گنج سلامت ده پایندگان

چشمه کن قله قاف قدم
نایژه پرداز شکاف قلم

روز برآرنده شبهای تار
کارگزارنده مردان کار

واهب هر مایه که سودیش هست
قبله هر سر که سجودیش هست

دایره ساز سپر آفتاب
تیرگر باد و زره باف آب

عیب نهان دار هنر پروران
عذر پذیرنده عذر آوران

آب زن آتش سودای عقل
تاب ده دست تمنای عقل

صیقلی صاف ضمیران پاک
صیرفی گنج پذیران خاک

سر شکن خامه تدبیرها
خامه کش نامه تقصیرها

ایمنی وقت هراسندگان
روشنی حال شناسندگان

تازه کن جان به نسیم حیات
کارگر کارگه کائنات

ساخت چو صنعش قلم از «کاف » و «نون »
شد به هزاران رقمش رهنمون

سطر نخست از ورق این سواد
قدس نژادان تجرد نهاد

مایه ایشان ز هیولا بری
پایه ایشان ز صور برتری

جیب بقاشان ز فنا سوده نی
دامنشان ز آب و گل آلوده نی

جنبش ایشان به هنرهای خاص
از کشش چنگ طبیعت خلاص

ناشده اقلیم دوام و ثبات
تنگ بر ایشان ز حدود و جهات

سطر دوم نه فلک لاجورد
گرد یکی نقطه همه تیز گرد

کوشش ایشان به پیام سروش
گردش ایشان ز سر عقل و هوش

برده به چوگان ارادت همه
گوی ز میدان سعادت همه

بلکه به رقص آمده صوفی وشند
دایم ازین رقص چو صوفی خوشند

داده به هر دور ز ادوارشان
نور دگر واهب انوارشان

سطر سوم نیست بجز چار حرف
درج به هر چار رموز شگرف

هر چه بود در خم طاق سپهر
جمله ازین چار نموده ست چهر

قدرتش آن را به هم آمیخته ست
هر دم ازان نقش نو انگیخته ست

نقش نخستین چه بود زان جماد
کز حرکت بر در او ایستاد

کوه نشسته به مقام وقار
یافته در قعده طاعت قرار

کان که بود خازن گنجینه اش
ساخته پر لعل و گهر سینه اش

هر گهری دیده رواجی دگر
گشته فروزنده تاجی دگر

نوبت ازین پس به نبات آمده
چابک و شیرین حرکات آمده

بر زده از روزنه خاک سر
برده به یکچند بر افلاک سر

چتر برافراخته از برگ و شاخ
ساخته بر سایه نشین جا فراخ

کاه فشانده ز شکوفه درم
گاه ز میوه شده خوان کرم

جنبش حیوان شده بعد از نبات
گشته روان در گلش آب حیات

از ره حس برده ز مقصود بوی
پویه کنان کرده به مقصود روی

با دل خواهنده ز جا خاسته
رفته به هر جا که دلش خواسته

خاتمه این همه هست آدمی
یافته زو کار جهان محکمی

اول فکر آخر کار آمده
فکر کن و کارگزار آمده

بر کفش از عقل نهاده چراغ
داده ز هر شمع و چراغش فراغ

کارکنان داده به عقل از حواس
گشته به هر مقصد ازان ره شناس

باصره را داده به بینش نوید
راه نموده به سیاه و سپید

سامعه را کرده به بیرون دو در
تا ز چپ و راست نیوشد خبر

ذایقه را داده به روی زبان
کام ز شیرینی و شور جهان

لامسه را نقد نهاده به مشت
گنج شناسایی نرم و درشت

شامه را از گل و ریحان باغ
ساخته چون غنچه معطر دماغ

بر تنش این پنج حس ظاهرند
پنج دگر کارگر اندر سرند

کارکنان خردند این همه
بهر خرد نامزدند این همه

تا به مددگاری ایشان خرد
پی به شناسایی مبدع برد

چست ببندد کمر بندگی
بندگیی مایه صد زندگی

زندگیی مدت آن لایزال
در کنف عاطفت ذوالجلال

جامی اگر زنده دلی بنده باش
بنده این زنده پاینده باش

بندگیش زندگی آمد تمام
زندگی این باشد و بس والسلام

English translation

Whatever the scribe of the pen writes following this beautiful script, At the head of every letter, Is the praise of God, Who with the pen of 'Kun' (Be), Writes words upon the page of the wind. Since this fresh word is His writing, It cannot be spent on anything but His praise. Yet His praise is beyond expression; Whatever the tongue says, He is higher than that. Speech and His praise—what a desire is this! Intellect and its desire—what a madness is this! Speech is nothing but a few loose knots, Which the nature of the poet has swiftly tied upon the wind. There is no opening in the knot, Unless the work is made better by that binding. A hundred knots from a highly twisted and winding thread, If they untie them, there is nothing within. The intellect has lost itself in this knot, Having lost the end of the thread in this thought. The thread of its thought, which deserves to be full of pearls, Is here filled with knots from end to end. This thread gives a sign of the rosary; A hundred knots have fallen in it like beads. The intellect, holding it in its hand like a rosary, Counts its own helplessness by it. Who is he who does not speak of helplessness? What is the ultimate end of this task but helplessness? Helplessness is better than any wise heart that exists, At the door of that Living and Powerful One Who exists. The stringer of the pearls of the mine of generosity, The connector of the chain of the order of existence, The illuminator of the dawn of the earthly beings, The burner of the torch of the night of the heavenly beings, The spreader of the table of bounty for those who come, The giver of the treasure of safety to those who remain, The creator of the spring at the peak of the Mount Qaf of eternity, The carver of the split of the pen's nib, The bringer of day from dark nights, The director of the affairs of men of action, The giver of every capital that has a profit, The Qiblah of every head that bows in prostration, The maker of the circle of the sun's shield, The arrow-maker of the wind and the armor-weaver of the water, The concealer of the hidden faults of the cultured, The accepter of the excuses of the excuse-bringers, The water-sprinkler on the fire of the intellect's passion, The giver of strength to the hand of the intellect's desire, The polisher of the pure hearts of the clean, The assayer of the treasure-accepting dust, The breaker of the nib of the pen of plans, The drawer of the pen over the record of shortcomings, The safety in the time of those who fear, The light of the state of those who recognize (the gnostics), The refresher of the soul with the breeze of life, The worker in the workshop of creation. When His craftsmanship fashioned the pen from 'Kaf' and 'Nun' (Kun / Be), It guided it to thousands of writings. The first line from the leaf of this black ink Is the holy-born beings of solitary (incorporeal) nature. Their substance is free from prime matter, Their station is superior to forms. The collar of their eternity is not worn out by non-existence; Their skirt is not soiled by water and clay. Their movement is through special virtues, Freed from the pull of nature's grasp. The realm of eternity and stability has not Become narrow for them because of boundaries and directions. The second line is the nine azure spheres, All rotating swiftly around a single point. Their endeavor is by the message of the angel, Their rotation is from intellect and awareness. They have all taken the ball from the field of happiness With the polo-stick of devotion. Rather, they have begun to dance like Sufis; They are eternally joyful from this dance like a Sufi. In each cycle of their revolutions, The Giver of Lights has granted them another light. The third line is nothing but four letters, With wondrous secrets contained in all four. Whatever exists within the curve of heaven's dome, All of it has shown its face from these four. His power has mixed them together, And every moment, He raises a new design from them. What was the first design from those? The inanimate (mineral), which stood at His door, devoid of movement. The mountain sitting in the station of dignity, Finding rest in the posture of obedience. The mine, which is the keeper of His treasure, Has made its chest full of rubies and gems. Every gem has found a different currency, Becoming the illuminator of another crown. Thereafter, the turn came to the plant, Which came with agile and sweet movements. Having raised its head from the window of the earth, It lifted its head to the heavens for a while. Hoisting an umbrella made of leaves and branches, Making a spacious place for those sitting in the shade. Sometimes scattering coins of blossoms, Sometimes becoming a table of bounty with fruit. The movement of the animal came after the plant; The water of life flowed in its clay. Through the sense, it caught the scent of the goal; Running, it turned its face toward the goal. With a desiring heart, it rose from its place, Going wherever its heart wished. The conclusion of all of these is the human being, Through whom the work of the world has gained stability. First in thought, last in action, He has come both as a thinker and an administrator. God placed the lamp of intellect in his palm, Freeing him from every other candle and lamp. He gave the senses to the intellect as workers, And by them, he became the path-finder to every destination. He gave glad tidings of sight to the eye, Showing the way to black and white. He made two doors leading outwards for the ear, So that it may hear news from left and right. He gave the sense of taste upon the tongue, Enjoying the sweetness and saltiness of the world. He placed the cash of touch in the fist, The treasure of knowing soft and rough. He made the sense of smell fragrant like a bud, From the roses and basils of the garden. Upon his body, these five senses are outward, And five others are working within the head. These are all the workers of the intellect; They are all appointed for the intellect, So that with their assistance, the intellect may Find its way to the recognition of the Creator, And swiftly gird the loin of servitude— A servitude that is the source of a hundred lives, A life whose duration is everlasting, Under the shelter of the affection of the Lord of Majesty. O Jami, if you are living-hearted, be a servant; Be a servant of this Ever-Living, Everlasting One. Servitude to Him is complete life; This is life and nothing else, and that is all.

Updated 2026-07-18

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