1Cademy - بخش ۵۵ - صفت خزان و فرو ریختن برگ جمال لیلی از شاخسار حیات و وصیت کردن که وی را در زیر پای مجنون به خاک کنند / Section 55 - The Description of Autumn and the Falling of the Leaf of Leylis Beauty from the Branch of Life, and Her Bequest that She Be Buried Beneath Majnuns Feet

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Haft Awrang

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بخش ۵۵ - صفت خزان و فرو ریختن برگ جمال لیلی از شاخسار حیات و وصیت کردن که وی را در زیر پای مجنون به خاک کنند / Section 55 - The Description of Autumn and the Falling of the Leaf of Leyli's Beauty from the Branch of Life, and Her Bequest that She Be Buried Beneath Majnun's Feet

Original content

چون از نفس خزان درختان
گشتند به باد داده رختان

از خلعت سبز عور ماندند
وز برگ و بهار دور ماندند

گلزار ز هر گل و گیاهی
شد رنگرزانه کارگاهی

بنمود هزار رنگ بی قیل
صباغ فلک ز یک خم نیل

طاووس درخت پر بینداخت
سلطان چمن سپر بینداخت

از پنجره های لاجوردی
کم شد سیهی فزود زردی

بستان ز هوای سرد بفسرد
تب لرزه ز رخ طراوتش برد

گرداب شمر در آن علیلی
قاروره نمایی و دلیلی

شد هر شاخی ز برگ و بر پاک
بر دوش درخت مار ضحاک

از خون خوردن انار خندان
آلوده به خون نمود دندان

به گشت چو عاشقی رخش زرد
از درد نشسته بر رخش گرد

نارنج به شاخ پیش بینا
گوی زر و صولجان مینا

عناب ز برگ زرد پیدا
اشک و رخ عاشقان شیدا

رز کرده گهی ز شاخ انگور
عقد در ناب و ساعد حور

گاه از سر دار طارم تاک
آویخته زنگیان بی باک

گه داده به دست دستبوسان
رنگین انگشت نوعروسان

امرود به شاخ خود نشسته
بر دسته عود گوشه بسته

بادام به عبرت ایستاده
صد چشم به هر طرف نهاده

باغی تهی از گل و شکوفه
بغداد بدل شده به کوفه

بغداد به کوفگی نشانمند
با کرگس و کوف گشته خرسند

در زاویه زوال یابی
عالم ز خزان بدین خرابی

وان غیرت گلرخان بغداد
یعنی لیلی گلی چمن زاد

افتاد به خار خار مردن
تن بنهاده به جان سپردن

گریان شد کای ستوده مادر
پاکیزه فراش پاک چادر

ای مریم مهد مهرجویی
بلقیس سبای نیکخویی

یک لحظه به مهر باش مایل
کن دست به گردنم حمایل

روی شفقت بنه به رویم
بگشا نظر کرم به سویم

زین پیش ز گفت و گوی مردم
بر من نامد تو را ترحم

نگذاشتیم به دوست پیوند
تا فرقت وی به مرگم افکند

مرد او ز غم فراق و من نیز
دل بنهادم به مرگ و تن نیز

روزم بی او به شب رسیده
جانم محمل به لب کشیده

محمل چو ببندد از لبم هم
بهرم فکنی بساط ماتم

بین غرقه به خون نشیمنم را
وز سیل مژه بشو تنم را

از خلعت عصمتم کفن کن
رنگش ز سرشک لعل من کن

زان رنگ ببخش رو سفیدیم
کانست علامت شهیدیم

از آتش سینه مجمرم ساز
وز دود جگر معطرم ساز

بر بند عصابه نیازم
زان ساز به عشق سرفرازم

بر رخ داغم ز دود غم کش
زان نیل سعادتم رقم کش

یاد آر حریف مقبلم را
وآراسته ساز محملم را

روی سفرم به خاک او کن
جایم به مزار پاک او کن

بشکاف زمین به زیر پایش
زن حفره به قبر دلگشایش

نه بر کف پای او سر من
ساز از کف پایش افسر من

تا حشر که در وفاش خیزم
آسوده ز خاک پاش خیزم

مادر چو شنید آرزویش
از درد نهاد رو به رویش

بگریست که ای خجسته فرزند
وز صحبت من گسسته پیوند

زین پیش اگر نه بر مرادت
رفتم دل ازان حزین مبادت

آن روز نبود بی غباری
در کار تو هیچم اختیاری

وامروز که باشد اختیارم
مقصود تو را به جان برآرم

لیلی چو مراد خود روا دید
از ذوق چو تازه گل بخندید

رو سوی دیار یار دیرین
افشاند به خنده جان شیرین

مادر می دید جانفشانیش
می سوخت ز حسرت جوانیش

می کند ز سر به پنجه های موی
می کوفت به کف طپانچه بر روی

روی از ناخن خراش می کرد
ناخن ناخن تراش می کرد

از آه به سینه چاک می زد
بر خویش در هلاک می زد

دستی ننهاد بر دل خویش
جز وقت طپانجه بر دل ریش

بر دل کف راحتش همین بود
تسکین جراحتش همین بود

دل چون ز طپانچه گشتیش تنگ
بر سینه به درد کوفتی سنگ

در سنگ زدن چو گرم گشتی
سنگ از گرمیش نرم گشتی

چون برد به سر به گریه و سوز
روزی که مباد کس بدان روز

آهنگ به ساز رفتنش کرد
ترتیب جهاز رفتنش کرد

زان بیش که خواستی دل او
آراسته ساخت محمل او

بر محمل او چو نخل بستند
از شاخ خزان ورق شکستند

یعنی که گلی بدین لطیفی
شد رهزنش آفت خریفی

نگذشته هنوز نوبهارش
در جان ز خزان خلید خارش

او خفته به هودج عروسی
مادر به رهش به خاکبوسی

او رفته به دوش مهربانان
مادر ز عقب سرشک رانان

او رانده به وصل دوست محمل
مادر ز فراق سنگ بر دل

بردندش ازان قبیله بیرون
یکسر به حظیره گاه مجنون

خاکش به جوار دوست کندند
در خاک چو گوهرش فکندند

پهلوی هم آن دو گوهر پاک
خفتند فراز بستر خاک

شد روضه آن دو کشته غم
سر منزل عاشقان عالم

باران کرم نثارشان باد
سرسبز کن مزارشان باد

ایشان بستند رخت ازین حی
ما نیز روانه ایم در پی

هر دم هوسی نشاید اینجا
جاوید کسی نپاید اینجا

گردون که به عشوه جان ستانیست
زه کرده به قصد ما کمانیست

زان پیش کزین کمان کین توز
بر سینه خوریم تیر دلدوز

آن به که به گوشه ای نشینیم
زین مزرعه خوشه ای بچپینیم

زان خوشه کنم توشه خویش
گیریم ره نجات در پیش

از هستی خود نجات یابیم
وز عمر ابد حیات یابیم

عمری که درین حیات فانیست
برقی ز سحاب زندگانیست

در برق ورق گشاد نتوان
بر نور وی اعتماد نتوان

نور ازل و ابد طلب کن
آن را چو بیافتی طرب کن

آن نور نهفته در گل توست
تابنده ز مشرق دل توست

دل را به خیال گل میارای
وین روزنه را به گل میندای

چون روزنه را به گل ببستی
در ظلمت آب و گل نشستی

شد نور تو زین حجاب مستور
خود گو که چه بهره یابی از نور

ای نور ازل در آرزویت
از ظلمتیان بتاب رویت

ظلمت که حجاب نور باشد
آن به که ز دیده دور باشد

خوش آنکه شوی ز پای تا فرق
چون ذره در آفتاب خود غرق

هر چند نشان خویش جویی
کم یابی اگر چه بیش جویی

دلگرم شوی به آفتابی
خود را همه آفتاب یابی

بی برگی تو شود همه برگ
ایمن گردی ز آفت مرگ

جایی دل تو مقام گیرد
کانجا جز مرگ کس نمیرد

اینست حیات جاودانی
رمزی گفتیم اگر بدانی

English translation

When by the breath of autumn the trees had their garments given up to the wind, They were left bare of their green robe, and remained far from leaf and spring. The rose-garden, from every flower and herb, became a dyer's workshop. The dyer of the heavens displayed a thousand colors, without dispute, from a single vat of indigo. The peacock of the tree cast off its plumage; the sultan of the meadow threw down his shield. From the azure windows, blackness lessened and yellowness increased. The garden froze from the cold air; a shivering fever took the freshness from its face. Consider the whirlpool in that sickness— a urine-flask display and a diagnosis. Every branch became bare of leaf and fruit, like the serpent of Zahhak upon the tree's shoulder. From drinking blood, the laughing pomegranate showed its teeth stained with blood. It became like a lover, its face turned yellow; from pain, dust settled upon its face. The orange on the branch, before the seeing eye, was a ball of gold and a mallet of enamel. The jujube, visible amid the yellow leaf, was the tears and face of frenzied lovers. The vine sometimes made, from its grape-branch, a necklace of pure pearls and the forearm of a houri; Sometimes, from the gallows-top of the vine's trellis, hung fearless dark-skinned figures; Sometimes gave into the hands of the hand-kissers the colored fingers of new brides. The pear, sitting upon its branch, was like a melody bound to the neck of the lute. The almond stood in admonition, with a hundred eyes set in every direction. A garden empty of flower and blossom— Baghdad turned into Kufa. Baghdad, marked by Kufa's ruin, grew content with the vulture and the owl. In the corner you shall find decline, the world in such ruin from autumn. And that envy of the rose-faced ones of Baghdad, that is, Leyli, a flower born of the meadow, Fell to the anguish of dying, her body given over to yielding up her soul. Weeping, she said: "O praised mother, pure of bed, pure of veil, O Mary of the cradle of love-seeking, O Bilqis of Sheba of good nature, For one moment be inclined to affection; cast your arm about my neck. Lay the face of compassion upon my face; open the glance of kindness toward me. Before this, from the talk of people, no mercy for me came to you. You did not let me join my beloved, until separation from him cast me down to death. He died from the grief of parting, and I too have set my heart upon death, and my body too. My day without him has reached its night; my soul has drawn its litter to my lips. When the litter departs from my lips as well, spread out for me the carpet of mourning. See my dwelling drowned in blood, and with the flood of your lashes wash my body. Make a shroud of the robe of my chastity; make its color from my ruby tears. From that color grant the whiteness of my honor, for that is the mark of my martyrdom. From the fire of my breast make my censer, and from the smoke of my liver make me fragrant. Bind on the headband of my need; by that make me exalted in love. Draw upon my face a brand from grief's smoke; with that indigo inscribe the sign of my felicity. Remember my fortunate companion, and adorn my litter. Turn my journey's face toward his dust; make my place at his pure grave. Split the earth beneath his feet; dig a hollow at his heart-opening tomb. Lay my head upon the sole of his foot; make the sole of his foot my crown, So that until the Resurrection, when I rise in faithfulness to him, I may rise at peace from the dust of his feet." When the mother heard her wish, from pain she laid her face upon her face. She wept: "O blessed child, whose bond with my company is now severed, If before this I acted not according to your desire, let not your heart be grieved by that. That day was not without its cloud of trouble; I had no choice at all in your affair. But today, when the choice is mine, I will fulfill your desire with my very life." When Leyli saw her wish made lawful, from delight she smiled like a fresh rose. Facing the abode of her old beloved, with a smile she scattered her sweet soul. The mother watched her scatter her soul, and burned with regret for her youth. She tore the hair from her head with her nails; she beat slaps upon her face with her palm. She scored her face with her nails; nail by nail she wore them away. With sighs she rent her breast; she struck at herself toward destruction. She laid no hand upon her heart except when slapping her wounded heart. This alone was the palm of comfort on her heart; this alone was the soothing of her wound. When her heart grew tight from slapping, in pain she beat a stone upon her breast. When she grew heated in striking the stone, the stone from her heat grew soft. When she passed in weeping and burning a day such as may no one ever have, She set about preparing her departure; she arranged the trousseau of her going. More than her heart could have desired, she adorned her litter. When they bound her litter like a bier of palm, they broke the leaves from autumn's branch— Meaning, a flower of such delicacy was waylaid by the blight of autumn. Her early spring had not yet passed when autumn's thorn pierced her soul. She, sleeping in the howdah of a bride; the mother, upon her path, kissing the dust. She, borne upon the shoulders of loving ones; the mother behind her, shedding tears. She, driving her litter to union with the beloved; the mother, from separation, a stone upon her heart. They carried her out from that tribe, straight to the burial-ground of Majnun. They dug her grave beside the beloved; like a jewel they cast her into the earth. Side by side, those two pure jewels slept upon the bed of dust. The garden-tomb of those two slain by grief became the destination of the lovers of the world. May the rain of grace be scattered upon them; may it make their grave forever green. They have packed their belongings from this quarter of life; we too are journeying after them. A new whim at every moment is not fitting here; no one abides forever here. The firmament, which is a soul-taker by its coquetry, is a bow drawn with the intent to strike us. Before, from this vengeful bow, we take the heart-piercing arrow in our breast, Better that we sit in a corner and glean an ear of grain from this field. From that ear let me make my provision; let us take up the road of salvation. Let us find deliverance from our own existence, and from eternal life gain true life. The life that lies within this mortal existence is but a lightning-flash from the cloud of living. By lightning one cannot open a page; upon its light one cannot rely. Seek the light of pre-eternity and eternity; when you have found it, rejoice. That light is hidden within your clay, shining from the east of your heart. Do not adorn the heart with the fancy of clay, and do not plaster this window over with clay. When you have sealed the window with clay, you have sat in the darkness of water and clay. Your light became hidden by this veil; say yourself, what benefit will you gain from light? O light of pre-eternity, in longing for you, turn your face away from the people of darkness. The darkness that is a veil to the light— better that it be kept far from the eye. Happy is he who becomes, from foot to crown, like a mote drowned within his own sun. However much you seek your own trace, the more you seek, the less you find. Grow warm-hearted toward a sun, and you will find yourself to be all sun. Your destitution will become all provision; you will grow safe from the affliction of death. Your heart will take up its station in a place where none dies but death itself. This is life everlasting— we have spoken a secret, if you but understand.

Updated 2026-07-19

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