1Cademy - بخش ۵ - در معنی عشق صادقان و صدق عاشقان / Section 5 - On the Meaning of the Love of the Truthful and the Truthfulness of Lovers

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۵ - در معنی عشق صادقان و صدق عاشقان / Section 5 - On the Meaning of the Love of the Truthful and the Truthfulness of Lovers

Original content

چون صبح ازل ز عشق دم زد
عشق آتش شوق در قلم زد

از لوح عدم قلم سرافراشت
صد نقش بدیع پیکر انگاشت

هستند افلاک زاده عشق
ارکان به زمین فتاده عشق

بی عشق نشان ز نیک و بد نیست
چیزی که ز عشق نیست خود نیست

این سقف بلند لاجوردی
روزان و شبان به گرد گردی

نیلوفر بوستان عشق است
گوی خم صولجان عشق است

مغناطیسی که طبع سنگ است
در آهن سخت کرده چنگ است

عشقیست فتاده آهن آهنگ
سر بر زده از درونه سنگ

زان گیر قیاس دردمندان
در جذبه عشق دلپسندان

بین سنگ که چون درین نشیمن
بی سنگ شود ز شوق آهن

هر چند که عشق دردناک است
آسایش سینه های پاک است

از محنت چرخ باژگون گرد
بی دولت عشق کی رهد مرد

کس ز آدمیان چه دون چه عالی
از معنی عشق نیست خالی

لیکن از دوست فرق تا دوست
افزون باشد ز مغز تا پوست

معشوق یکی زر است و سیم است
بی سیم دلش چو زر دو نیم است

معشوق یکی رز است و باغ است
زینهاش به سینه مانده باغ است

خوش آن که به مهر شاهدی جست
زین دغدغه ها ضمیر خود شست

دل بست به طرفه نازنینی
در مجلس انس خرده بینی

دامن پاکی ز دست اغیار
نی دامن چاک چون گل از خار

خوشتر ز وی آنکه چون اسیری
شد بسته پیر دیده پیری

خجلت ده گل به تازه رویی
رشک سمن از سفید مویی

آیینه روح ها جمالش
مفتاح فتوح ها مقالش

عشقت چو ازین دو جا بخواند
محمل به حقیقتت رساند

صحرای وجود را گل است این
دریای مجاز را پل است این

زین عشق کسی که بی نصیب است
در انجمن جهان غریب است

غافل ز حریم محرمیت
نشنیده نسیم آدمیت

آرند که واعظی سخنور
بر مجلس وعظ سایه گستر

از دفتر عشق نکته می راند
و افسانه عاشقان همی خواند

خر گم شده ای بر او گذر کرد
وز گمشده خودش خبر کرد

زد بانگ که کیست حاضر امروز
کز عشق نبوده خاطر افروز

نی محنت عشق دیده هرگز
نه داغ بتان کشیده هرگز

برخاست ز جای ساده مردی
هرگز ز دلش نزاده دردی

کان کس منم ای ستوده دهر
کز عشق نبوده هرگزم بهر

خر گم شده را بخواند کای یار
اینک خر تو بیار افسار

این را ز خری کزان دژم نیست
جز گوش دراز هیچ کم نیست

سرمایه محرمی ز عشق است
بل ک آدمی آدمی ز عشق است

هر کس که نه عاشق آدمی نیست
شایسته بزم محرمی نیست

جامی به کمند عشق شو بند
بگسل ز همه به عشق پیوند

جز عشق مگوی هیچ و مشنو
حرفی که نه عشق ازان خمش شو

English translation

When the dawn of eternity breathed of love, Love set the fire of longing to the pen. From the tablet of non-existence the pen rose up, And conceived a hundred wondrous forms. The heavens are born of love, The elements have fallen to earth through love. Without love there is no trace of good or bad; A thing that is not of love is itself nothing. This lofty azure roof, turning round through days and nights, Is the lotus of love's garden, Is the ball in the curve of love's polo-stick. The magnetism that is the nature of the stone, which has clawed hard into iron — It is a love, iron-tuned and fallen, risen up from within the stone. From that draw your measure of the afflicted ones, in the pleasing attraction of the lovers. See the stone, how in this abode iron becomes weightless from longing. Though love is full of pain, it is the ease of pure breasts. From the affliction of the inverted, turning sphere, how can a man be freed without the fortune of love? No one among humankind, whether low or high, is empty of the meaning of love. Yet the difference between one beloved and another is greater than that between kernel and skin. One man's beloved is gold and silver; without silver his heart is split in two like gold. One man's beloved is vine and garden; from these a mark still remains upon his breast. Happy is he who sought a fair witness through love, and washed his conscience clean of these anxieties. He bound his heart to a wondrous beloved, a discerning one in the assembly of intimacy — A skirt kept pure from the hands of strangers, not a skirt torn like a rose by the thorn. Better than that is he who, like a captive, became bound to an aged, seasoned elder, Shaming the rose with freshness of face, the envy of the jasmine for his white hair. His beauty is the mirror of souls, his speech the key of all openings. When love summons you from these two stations, it carries your litter to the Truth. This is the flower of the desert of existence, this is the bridge over the sea of metaphor. Whoever is without a share of this love is a stranger in the assembly of the world, Heedless of the sanctuary of intimacy, having never smelled the breeze of humanity. They relate that an eloquent preacher, casting his shadow over the assembly of preaching, Was expounding subtle points from the book of love, and reciting the tale of lovers. A man who had lost his donkey passed by him, and asked him about his lost beast. The preacher cried out: Who is present today whose heart has never been kindled by love, Who has never seen the affliction of love, nor ever borne the brand of the beloveds? A simple man rose up from his place, from whose heart no pain had ever been born, Saying: That person am I, O honored one of the age, for I have never had any share of love. The man who lost his donkey called to him: O friend, here is your donkey — bring the halter! This one lacks nothing of being a donkey except long ears — nothing else is wanting. The capital of intimacy is from love; nay, the human is human through love. Whoever is not a lover is not human, nor worthy of the feast of intimacy. Jami, be bound in the noose of love; sever from all, and join yourself to love. Say nothing but love, and hear nothing else; of any word that is not love, be silent.

Updated 2026-07-20

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