1Cademy - بخش ۶۲ - ختم خطاب و خاتمه کتاب / Section 62 - The Conclusion of the Discourse and Epilogue of the Book

Learn Before

Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۶۲ - ختم خطاب و خاتمه کتاب / Section 62 - The Conclusion of the Discourse and Epilogue of the Book

Original content

خامه چو بر موجب جف القلم
خشک بیستاد از این خوش رقم

بهر دعا از لب ام الکتاب
حرف سقاک اللهش آمد خطاب

روح امین دست به آمین گشاد
چرخ برین سبحه پروین گشاد

گوهر آن سبحه به پایش فشاند
در قدم غالیه سایش فشاند

گفت جزاک الله ازین فیض پاک
از تو به سجاده نشینان خاک

نقش شفانامه عیسی ست این
یا رقم خامه مانی ست این

غنچه ای از گلبن ناز آمده
یا گلی از گلشن راز آمده

حرف کش دفتر فرزانگیست
تازه کن مایه دیوانگیست

قفل گشای در کاخ صفاست
عطر فزای گل شاخ وفاست

صبح طرب مطلع انوار اوست
جیب ادب مخزن اسرار اوست

نظم کلامش نه بغایت بلند
تا نشود هر کس ازان بهره مند

سر معانیش نه زانسان دقیق
کش نتوان یافت به فکر عمیق

لفظ خوش و معنی ظاهر در او
آب زلال است و جواهر در او

از خس و خاشاک چو صافیست آب
می نشود بر در و گوهر حجاب

شاهد اسرار وی از صوت و حرف
کرده لباسی به بر خود شگرف

بسته حروفش تتق مشکفام
«حور مقصورات فی الخیام »

ماشطه خامه چو آراستش
از قبل من لقبی خواستش

تحفت الاحرار لقب دادمش
تحفه به احرار فرستادمش

هر که به دل از خردش روزنی ست
در نظرش هر ورقی گلشنی ست

راست چمن هاست در آنجا سطور
پر گل شادی و نهال سرور

جوی زر جدولشان آبخورد
سبزه تر گرد وی از لاژورد

گرد مجلد سوی جلدش چو میل
داد ادیم از سر مهرش سهیل

زهره شد از چنگ پرآوازه اش
تار بریشم ده شیرازه اش

هیکل آیات گرامیست این
حرز حمایتگر جامیست این

باش خدایا به کمال کرم
حافظ او ز آفت هر کج قلم

ظلمت کلک وی ازین حرف نور
دار چو انگشت بداندیش دور

چون بتراشد ز سر خامه نیش
سازد ازان نیش دل نامه ریش

خط وی از خطه دانش برون
گشته به سر حد خطا رهنمون

چون خط تقطیع نه بر اصطلاح
وز حک و اصلاح نگیرد صلاح

تیغ کند خامه سر تیز را
رشته برد نظم دلاویز را

کلک وی از چوب عوان بدتر است
وزن کش قافیه ویرانگر است

دیده حرفی که بود دیده باز
گردد ازو وقت کتابت فراز

حرف نگارد چو به کلک هوس
نقطه نه بر جای نهد چون مگس

گاه زند بر رخ عم خال غم
گاه شود سیم ز دستش ستم

بس که مرید از قلمش مرتد است
ضد وی آنجا که نویسد صد است

چند به لب باج حکایت دهیم
شکر به تاراج شکایت دهیم

شکر که این رشته به پایان رسید
بخیه این خرقه به دامان رسید

مهر نه خاتمه این خطاب
شد رقم خاتم تم الکتاب

English translation

When the pen, in accordance with 'the pen has dried,' Dryly came to a halt from writing this sweet script, For the sake of prayer, from the lip of the Mother of the Book, The word 'May God water thee' came as an address. The Trustworthy Spirit (Gabriel) opened his hands for 'Amen,' The high heaven scattered the rosary of the Pleiades. It scattered the pearls of that rosary at its feet, Pouring it in its ambergris-rubbing footsteps. Saying: 'May God reward you for this pure grace, From you to the prayer-carpet-dwellers of the earth.' Is this the design of Jesus's scroll of healing, Or is it the writing of Mani's pen? Is it a bud come from the rosebush of elegance, Or a flower come from the rose-garden of mystery? It is the drawer of letters for the ledger of wisdom, And the refresher of the source of madness. It is the opener of the lock of the palace of purity, The fragrance-increaser of the flower on the branch of loyalty. The morning of joy is the rising-point of its lights, The collar of refinement is the treasury of its secrets. The order of its speech is not so exceedingly high, Lest everyone should not benefit from it. The secret of its meanings is not so subtle, That it cannot be grasped by deep thought. Its sweet words and apparent meanings, Are like clear water containing jewels. Since the water is pure of chaff and debris, It does not become a veil over the pearl and gem. The beloved of its secrets, out of sound and letter, Has put a magnificent garment upon herself. Its letters have bound a musk-colored veil, Like 'houris cloistered in pavilions.' When the tirewoman of the pen adorned it, She requested a title for it on my behalf. I named it 'Tuhfat al-Ahrar' (The Gift of the Free), And sent it as a gift to the free-spirited. For anyone who has a window of wisdom in their heart, In their view, every leaf of it is a rose-garden. Truly, the lines in it are like meadows, Full of the flowers of joy and saplings of delight. The golden stream of their margins is their watering-source, The fresh greenery around it is made of lapis lazuli. When the dust of binding inclined toward its cover, Canopus gave Moroccan leather out of its love. Venus, because of its highly-reputed harp, Provided the silk thread for its headband. This is the structure of noble verses, This is the protective amulet of Jami. O God, in Your perfect generosity, Be its protector from the calamity of any crooked pen. Keep the darkness of his pen, through this letter of light, As far away as the finger of an ill-wisher. When he carves a nib from the head of his pen, He wounds the heart of the letter with that nib. His handwriting is outside the realm of knowledge, Leading to the frontier of error. Like a line of scansion not according to terminology, And which accepts no improvement from scraping or correction. He blunts the sharp head of the pen like a blade, And breaks the thread of the charming poetry. His pen is worse than the staff of an oppressor, And is a destroyer of the meter of the rhyme. The eye of a letter that is wide open, Becomes closed in writing by him. When he writes a letter with the pen of caprice, He misplaces the dots like a fly landing. Sometimes he places a mole of grief on the face of 'am' (paternal uncle) [turning 'ayn into ghayn, making it 'gham' (grief)], Sometimes 'sim' (silver) becomes 'sitam' (oppression) through his hand. So many a disciple is apostatized by his pen, That his opponent, where he writes, is a hundred. How long shall we pay the tribute of storytelling with our lips, And plunder the sugar of gratitude with complaints? Thanks be to God that this thread has reached its end, The stitching of this dervish-cloak has reached its hem. Put the seal on the conclusion of this discourse, The final stamp became the script of 'The book is completed.'

Updated 2026-07-19

Contributors are:

Who are from:

References