1Cademy - بخش ۵۷ - اندر تصوّف و زهد ذکر التصوّف الزم علی الحقیقة لان فیه نجاة الخلیفة / Section 57 - On Sufism and Asceticism; Mentioning that Sufism is Most Binding in Truth, for in it is the Salvation of the Successor

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حدیقة الحقیقه و شریعة الطریقه / Hadiqat al-Haqiqah (The Walled Garden of Truth)

Poem

بخش ۵۷ - اندر تصوّف و زهد ذکر التصوّف الزم علی الحقیقة لان فیه نجاة الخلیفة / Section 57 - On Sufism and Asceticism; Mentioning that Sufism is Most Binding in Truth, for in it is the Salvation of the Successor

Original content

آنکه در بند مال و اسبابند
همه غرقه میان گردابند

وان کسان کز برون در ماندند
دان که در دست خویش درماندند

عامه دل در هوای جان بستند
زانکه از دست جهل سرمستند

خاصه در عالم معاینه اند
همچو سیماب و روی آینه اند

همه دست نهال کن دارند
همه مرغ قفس شکن دارند

از پی ملک دین نه از پی ملک
روی زردان دل سپید چو کلک

پرنیازان بی نیازانند
راست بازان پاکبازانند

قدشان بیش امر بالیده
کشف را زیر کفش مالیده

جامه شان از پی ریاضت پوست
همچو طبع لئیم خواری دوست

سرشان از برای دار بلند
نردبان پایهٔ حصار بلند

همه با عندلیب دل خویشند
همه سیمرغ خانهٔ خویشند

همه را در جهان نه روح و نه جسم
در گرفته چو کودکان از بسم

اسم خوانده به فعل آمده باز
همه خاموش و صید جوی چو باز

زهره از بهر قوت حالت
کرده پر زهر و گفته ما را لت

زهر قهر از میان جان دارند
شکر شکر بر زبان دارند

گرد کوی ملامتی روبند
حلقهٔ جان دولتی کوبند

از پی ضیف آسمان جلال
همه شب رو بسان طیف خیال

عاشق مرگ هریک از پی برگ
خویشتن را کشیده زیشان مرگ

English translation

Those who are bound by wealth and possessions, Are all drowned in the midst of a whirlpool. And those who remained outside the door, Know that they are helpless in their own hands. The common folk set their hearts on the desires of the self, Because they are intoxicated by the hand of ignorance. The elite, however, are in the world of direct witnessing, Like quicksilver on the back of a mirror. They all have hands that uproot seedlings, They all have birds that shatter cages. For the sake of the kingdom of faith, not the kingdom of earth, They are yellow-faced but white-hearted like a reed pen. Full of supplication, yet independent of all, They are honest players and selfless risk-takers. Their stature has grown beyond command, They have trampled spiritual unveiling beneath their footwear. Their garment is made of skin for the sake of self-discipline, Like a base nature, loving humility. Their heads are destined for the high gallows, A ladder to the high fortress wall. They are all with the nightingale of their own heart, They are all the Simurgh of their own house. They have neither spirit nor body in this world, Having begun, like children, from 'Bismillah'. Having read the Name, they have returned to action, All silent and seeking prey like a falcon. For the strength of their mystical state, They have filled their gallbladders with poison and said, 'Strike us!' They hold the poison of wrath in the depths of their soul, Yet they have the sweetness of gratitude on their tongue. They sweep the dust of the lane of blame, They knock on the ring of the door of the prosperous soul. For the guest of the heaven of majesty, All night they walk like a phantom of imagination. Each is a lover of death for the sake of spiritual provision, And death itself has withdrawn from them.

Updated 2026-07-03

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