1Cademy - بخش ۳۴ - شنیدن خلیفه آوازه مجنون را در عشقبازی و شعرپردازی و طلب داشتن وی / Section 34 - The Caliph Hearing the Fame of Majnun in Love-Play and Poetry-Making, and Summoning Him

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بخش ۳۴ - شنیدن خلیفه آوازه مجنون را در عشقبازی و شعرپردازی و طلب داشتن وی / Section 34 - The Caliph Hearing the Fame of Majnun in Love-Play and Poetry-Making, and Summoning Him

Original content

دهقان شکوفه بند این شاخ
استاد رقم نگار این کاخ

این حرف نوشت بر کتابه
کان خانه خراب این خرابه

چون شد به حدیث عشق مشهور
وز مشهوران به عقل مهجور

ز آوازه نکته های چون در
کرد انجمن زمانه را پر

نگذاشت ز عقد آن ل آلی
یک گوش به هیچ حلقه خالی

زان گوش خلیفه شد گهر بند
چشمی به لقایش آرزومند

دادند خبر به والی نجد
آن با خبر از حوالی نجد

کان عاشق عامری نسب را
مجنون لقب لبیب ادب را

نشنیده ز هیچ کس بهانه
سازد به دیار او روانه

والی به سران آن ولایت
شد نکته گزار ازین حکایت

گفتند که او ز عقل دور است
وز صحبت عاقلان نفور است

منزل نکند به هیچ جایی
طعمه نخورد به جز گیایی

گاهی که بود نشیمنش کوه
صد کوه به سینه اش ز اندوه

همپنجه زور او پلنگ است
ماء/وای شبش شکاف سنگ است

گاهی که به گرد دشت و وادی
گردد به هزار نامرادی

با دام و دد است روز همگام
با آهو و گور گشته شب رام

درمانده به کار او خلایق
دیدار خلیفه را چه لایق

فرمود که چون خلیفه فرمان
داده ست بدین غرض چه درمان

کردند طلب به هر زمینش
جستند نشان ز آن و اینش

بر قله کوه یافتندش
با فر و شکوه یافتندش

از موی به فرق چتر شاهی
وز تن چو خلیفه در سیاهی

گردش دد و دام حلقه بسته
او خوش به میانشان نشسته

گفتند که خیز و رخت بربند
فرمان خلیفه را کمر بند

گفتا که ز رخت داشتم دست
تا رخت به جز نبایدم بست

در کوه و کمر کمر فکندم
تا بهر کسی کمر نبندم

از دود درون سیاه بختم
بی رختی من بس است رختم

پشتم ز سپاه غم شکسته ست
بر پشت چنین کمر که بسته ست

گفتند بترس ازین دلیری
مپسند در آنچه گفت دیری

گفتا که طمع نکرده زیرم
بر نارفتن ازان دلیرم

ناگشته طمع مهاربینی
نتوان به خلیفه همنشینی

بر خلق که کارها دراز است
از شومی های حرص و آز است

عاشق که به ترک این دو خاص است
از کشمکش جهان خلاص است

گفتند مباد اگر ستیزد
خونت نه به حجتی بریزد

گفتا چو بریخت عشق خونم
کی تیغ کسان کند زبونم

از خنجر تیز کی کشم سر
بر کشته چه برگ گل چه خنجر

بر زنده جفای زیر دستی
باشد همه از برای هستی

هستی ز میان چو رخت بربست
خنجر به تهی فتاد و بشکست

از وی به سخن چو باز ماندند
ناقه به ره دگر براندند

اوبود پی بلاکشی کوه
جا کرده به زیر تیغ اندوه

کردند دراز دست تدبیر
بستند به پاش بند و زنجیر

زانسان که زند به کوهساری
بر شاخ گیاه حلقه ماری

می خورد ز مار حلقه کرده
صد زخم نهان به زیر پرده

در پیچش مار مهره می سفت
از گوهر اشک خویش و می گفت

من بسته دام زلف یارم
زنجیری جعد مشکبارم

زنجیر دگر به پای من چیست
زنجیر بر بلای من کیست

زنجیر من ار برآرد آواز
در مجلس عاشقان شود ساز

زنجیرکشان قید تدبیر
زان زمزمه بگسلند زنجیر

پایی که به یک دو گام کمتر
بگذشت ز بند هفت کشور

نی نی که ز چار میخ ارکان
وز ششدر تنگ این نه ایوان

هیهات که یک دو حلقه آهن
لنگر شودش درین نشیمن

سیری که نه سوی یار پویند
وز وی نه وصال یار جویند

گیرم که دهد به خلد راهی
زان نیست عظیم تر گناهی

در مذهب آن که نکته دان است
این بند گران جزای آنست

چون یک دو سه هفته ناقه راندند
نزدیک خلیفه اش رساندند

گرمیش به آب گرم بردند
چرک از تن و مو ز سر ستردند

شد جود خلیفه مهر پرتو
آراست تنش به خلعت نو

بر خوان کرامتش نشاندند
عطر کرمش به سر فشاندند

مسکین چو به حال خود فرو دید
خود را نه به شیوه نکو دید

دانست که شد درین دبستان
سیلی خور دست خودپرستان

شد تنگ بر او فضای هستی
دیوانگیش گرفت و مستی

بر خویش فرو درید جامه
افکند به خاک ره عمامه

از گفت و شنید لب فرو بست
در زاویه ای خموش بنشست

فرمود خلیفه تا کثیر
آن در ره اهل عقل خیر

در مجلس خاص حاضر آمد
دهشت بر آن مسافر آمد

گفتا که نخست در برابر
آماده کنید کلک و دفتر

زان کلک که شعر او نویسید
سازید انگشت و شهد لیسید

برداشت بلند آنگه آواز
کرد از دل خود نشیدی آغاز

در وی صفت جمال لیلی
بی بهرگی از وصال لیلی

بیماری قیس در فراقش
خونخواری وی ز اشتیاقش

زین گونه چو خواند چند بیتی
زان یافت چراغ قیس زیتی

کرد از رگ جان فتیله آن را
بگشاد زبانه وش زبان را

برخواند ز سوز یک قصیده
عقد عددش به صد رسیده

هر بیت ازان چو خانه پر
زاشک چو گهر سرشک چون در

مصرع مصرع ازان چو درها
آمد شد درد را گذرها

بودش به میان بیت ها چاک
چاک افکن سینه های غمناک

بحرش که ز موج برکند کوه
گرد آمده سیل های اندوه

از قافیه هاش صد دل تنگ
از تنگی خود به سینه زن سنگ

هر حرف ز عشق داستانی
هر نقطه ز خون دل نشانی

خوناب جگر تراوش دل
از چشمه حرفهاش سایل

بر مطلعش اوفتاده تابی
از روی چو لیلی آفتابی

در مقطع او بریدن امید
از طلعت آن خجسته خورشید

زو صاعقه ها به خرمن دل
از یاد حبیب و ذکر منزل

بگشاده زبان به شرح احوال
زآثار خیام و رسم اطلال

از هر مژه سیل خون گشاده
صد داغ به هر دلی نهاده

قاصد کرده ز مرغ یا باد
بنوشته غم درون ناشاد

خاک قدمش به خون سرشته
بنهاده به دستش آن نوشته

بردن سوی دوست گر نیارد
باری به سگان او سپارد

زایام وصال در حکایت
زآلام فراق در شکایت

گه جامه دری ز دست غماز
گه نوحه گری ز بخت ناساز

هر کس که به آن نوا نهد گوش
خون دلش از درون زند جوش

هر کس که بر آن رقم نهد چشم
از گریه به سیل غم دهد چشم

چون قصه جان غصه پرورد
زان ماتم غم به آخر آورد

از شعله آه آتش افروخت
هر دل که نه سنگ ز آتشش سوخت

وز نوحه درد گریه برداشت
یک چشم تهی ز گریه نگذاشت

رخساره چو سایه بر زمین سای
افتاد ز پای بند بر پای

چون دید خلیفه دردمندش
فرمود که برکنند بندش

وانگه ز خزینه بند بگشاد
صد بدره سیم و زر عطا داد

پس گفت که در دیار ما باش
ساکن شده در جوار ما باش

در طی صحیفه عنایت
خواهیم ز میر آن ولایت

کو همت خود به آن گمارد
تا لیلی را پدر بیارد

همسلک کنیم در و گوهر
مقصود دلت شود میسر

مجنون به وی التفات ننمود
بر وعده وی ثبات ننمود

دامن ز عطای او بیفشاند
در وادی عشق بارگی راند

چون آهوی دام جسته می رفت
وز جور زمانه رسته می رفت

می رفت و همی نشست و می خفت
هر لحظه هزار شکر می گفت

کز درد سر خلیفه رستم
و احرام دیار یار بستم

English translation

The farmer who bound the blossoms upon this branch, the master who painted the inscriptions of this palace, wrote this line upon its frontispiece: that this ruin is the ruined house of the wrecker. When he became famous through the tale of love, and among the famous grew estranged from reason, from the fame of his pearl-like subtleties he filled the assembly of the age. Of that necklace of pearls he left not a single ear of any circle empty. By that ear the Caliph became pearl-strung, an eye longing for the sight of him. They gave word to the governor of Najd, that man informed about the region of Najd, that that lover of the Amiri lineage, Majnun by title, refined in manners, from whom no one had heard an excuse, should be dispatched to his own land. The governor, to the chiefs of that province, spoke pointedly of this affair. They said: he is far from reason, and shrinks from the company of the wise. He dwells in no single place, he eats no food but grass. At times his abode is the mountain, a hundred mountains of grief in his breast. His grip in strength is a leopard's, his nightly refuge is the cleft of rocks. At times through plain and valley he wanders in a thousand miseries. By day he keeps pace with beast and prey, by night grown tame with deer and wild ass. All creatures are helpless before his case; how is he fit to meet the Caliph? He commanded: since the Caliph has ordered this purpose, what remedy is there? They sought him in every land, they searched for his trace here and there. On a mountain peak they found him, with splendor and majesty they found him: from his hair a royal canopy on his head, and in body, like the Caliph, robed in black. Around him beasts and prey had formed a ring, and he sat happily among them. They said: rise and pack your baggage, gird your waist to the Caliph's command. He said: I have washed my hands of baggage, so that I need bind no baggage but this. In mountain and pass I have cast off my belt, so that I bind my belt for no one. From the smoke within, my fortune is black; my baggagelessness is baggage enough for me. My back is broken by the army of grief; upon such a back, who would bind a belt? They said: fear this audacity, do not persist in what you have long said. He said: since I have set no greed beneath me, I am bold in not going up. Without the greed that becomes a nose-halter, one cannot sit as companion to the Caliph. Upon mankind, whose affairs run long, it is from the ill-omens of greed and avarice. The lover who has renounced these two, is freed from the struggle of the world. They said: beware, lest if he resist, he shed your blood without any pretext. He said: since love has shed my blood, how can the sword of others make me abject? How should I draw back my head from the sharp dagger? To the slain, what matters—rose petal or dagger? Upon the living, the tyranny of an underling is all for the sake of existence. When existence packed up and departed, the dagger fell upon emptiness and shattered. When they despaired of words with him, they drove the she-camel along another road. He followed the trail of the affliction-bearing mountain, having taken his place beneath the sword of grief. They stretched out the hand of contrivance, they bound fetters and chains upon his feet, in the manner that upon a mountainside a snake coils its ring upon a blade of grass. He suffered from the coiled snake a hundred hidden wounds beneath the veil. In the writhing of the snake he pierced the pearl, from the jewel of his own tears, and said: I am bound in the snare of my beloved's tresses, chained in the curls that rain musk. What is this other chain upon my foot? Who is the chain upon my affliction? If my chain should raise its voice, it would become music in the lovers' gathering. The chain-draggers of the bond of contrivance would snap their chains at that murmur. The foot that with one or two steps less passes beyond the bond of seven climes— nay, nay, beyond the four nails of the elements and the tight six-doored maze of these nine halls— alas, that one or two iron rings should become its anchor in this abode. Steps that do not move toward the beloved, and seek from them no union with the beloved— suppose they give passage to paradise: there is no sin greater than that. In the creed of one who is a knower of subtleties, this heavy bond is the penalty of that. When one, two, three weeks they drove the camel, they brought him near the Caliph. His warmth they carried to warm water, they scoured the filth from body and hair from head. The Caliph's bounty became a radiant sun, adorning his body with a new robe. At the table of his generosity they seated him, they scattered the perfume of his kindness on his head. The wretched one, when he looked upon his own state, saw himself not in a proper fashion. He knew that in this schoolhouse he had become one struck by the hands of the self-worshippers. The expanse of existence grew narrow upon him, madness and intoxication seized him. He tore his garment upon himself, he cast his turban to the dust of the road. From speaking and hearing he closed his lips, he sat silent in a corner. The Caliph commanded that Kuthayyir— that charity upon the path of the people of reason— come into the special assembly. Dread came upon that traveler. He said: first, before him, prepare the pen and the ledger, with that pen write down his verse, make your fingers a comb, and lick the honey. Then he raised his voice high, he began a chant from his own heart. In it, the description of Layla's beauty, his deprivation of union with Layla, Qays's sickness in his separation, his blood-drinking from his own longing. When he had recited a few couplets of this kind, the lamp of Qays found oil from it. He made a wick of it from his life's vein, he loosed his tongue like a flame. He recited from his burning a qasida, the knot of its number reaching a hundred. Each couplet of it, like a house filled with tears like pearls, weeping like beads. Hemistich by hemistich of it, like pearls, came and went the passageways of pain. Between its couplets there were rents, rent-casters of the grieving breasts. Its meter, which uproots mountains from the wave, had gathered the floods of sorrow. From its rhymes, a hundred hearts distressed, from their own distress striking stones upon the breast. Each letter a tale of love, each dot a mark from the heart's blood. The liver's blood-water, the heart's seepage, flowing as a stream from the spring of its letters. Upon its opening had fallen a radiance from a Layla-like sun's face. In its closing, the severing of hope from the countenance of that blessed sun. From it, thunderbolts upon the harvest of the heart, from the memory of the beloved and mention of the dwelling. He opened his tongue to describe the conditions, from the traces of the tents and the marks of the ruins. From each eyelash he loosed a flood of blood, setting a hundred brands upon every heart. He made the bird or the wind a messenger, he wrote the grief of his joyless heart within. The dust of his footstep kneaded with blood, he placed that writing in its hand. If it cannot carry it to the beloved, let it at least entrust it to his dogs. Of the days of union, in narration; of the pains of parting, in complaint. Now garment-tearing from the hand of the slanderer, now lamenting from ill-natured fortune. Whoever lends an ear to that melody, his heart's blood surges up from within. Whoever casts an eye upon that script, from weeping gives his eye to the flood of grief. When the tale of his sorrow-nurturing soul brought that mourning of grief to an end, from the flame of his sigh a fire blazed up; every heart not stone was burned by its fire. And from the wailing of pain, weeping arose; it left no single eye empty of tears. His cheek, like a shadow rubbing the ground, fell from standing, fettered, upon his foot. When the Caliph saw his suffering, he commanded that his bonds be struck off. Then from the treasury he loosed the bond, he gave a hundred purses of silver and gold. Then he said: stay in our land, dwell settled in our neighborhood. In the folds of the scroll of favor we shall ask of the emir of that province, that he set his resolve upon this, that Layla's father may bring her forth. We shall string pearl and jewel together; your heart's desire shall be made attainable. Majnun paid him no heed, placed no reliance on his promise. He shook his skirt free of his gift, and drove his mount into the valley of love. Like a deer escaped from the snare he went, freed from the tyranny of the age he went. He went, and sat, and slept, every moment uttering a thousand thanks: for from the trouble of the Caliph I am delivered, and I have donned the pilgrim's robe for the beloved's land.

Updated 2026-07-19

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