1Cademy - بخش ۴۰ - عقد یازدهم در مقام زهد که انقطاع رغبت است از نعم فانی و اقتصار همت بر نعیم جاودانی / Section 40 - The Eleventh Knot on the Station of Asceticism (Zuhd), Which Is the Severance of Desire from Transitory Bounties and the Restriction of Aspiration to Eternal Bliss

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Haft Awrang

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بخش ۴۰ - عقد یازدهم در مقام زهد که انقطاع رغبت است از نعم فانی و اقتصار همت بر نعیم جاودانی / Section 40 - The Eleventh Knot on the Station of Asceticism (Zuhd), Which Is the Severance of Desire from Transitory Bounties and the Restriction of Aspiration to Eternal Bliss

Original content

ای گل تازه که از باغ الست
به جهان آمده ای دست به دست

پرده سبز فلک غنچه توست
باشد این جامه به قدش ز تو چست

باغبان گرچه کند غنچه هوس
قصد او جلوه گل باشد و بس

گل تویی زن چمن و غیر تو خار
شیوه خار پرستی بگذار

گلبن اندر رهت از خار درشت
گه به کف زر کشد و گاه به مشت

غنچه مشتیست ز زر گل چو کفی
پی ایثار تو از هر طرفی

چشم نرگس به تماشای تو باز
نای بلبل ز نوای تو به ساز

یاسمن بزم تو را لخلخه سای
نارون فرق تو را چتر گشای

سبزه در آرزوی مفرشیت
باد خرسند به محمل کشیت

محملت راست به هر پیش و پسی
لاله از بانگ فتاده جرسی

گر بنفشه نه ز دستت سیلی
خورده اعضاش چرا شد نیلی

آینه روی تو را آب زلال
شانه کش موی تو را باد شمال

طرفه حالی که ز خیل تو همه
واندرین بزم طفیل تو همه

تو ز حال همه پوشیده نظر
گشته مشعوف دو سه خرده زر

گاه بندیش نهانی به میان
گه نهی بر طبق عرض عیان

کی سزد دلق مرقع به برت
در ته دلق گره کرده زرت

یا مرقع ز سرت بیرون باد
یا ز دل مهر زرت بیرون باد

صوفی و مال پرستی نه خوش است
عالی و میل به پستی نه خوش است

نقد دین گوهر و دنیا صدف است
وین صدف درصدد صد تلف است

چه دهی گوهر جاویدانی
به صدف خاصه که باشد فانی

لذت خوردن و آشامیدن
با بت حوروش آرامیدن

خلعت فاخر از اطلس کردن
خانه در قصر مقرنس کردن

زیر ران ابلق تازی راندن
بر مه و مهر غبار افشاندن

همه هیچند و به هیچی سمرند
بلکه از هیچ بسی هیچترند

همه زنگند بر آیینه دل
تار پیوند از اینها بگسل

گنده پیریست جهان عشوه نمای
دل صد تازه جوان کنده ز جای

دل خورشید دلان خون کرده
تابه آن چهره شفق گون کرده

طره اش حلقه تزویر و فریب
غمزه اش صف شکن صبر و شکیب

ابرویش کهنه کمانیست دو تاه
کرده از وسمه تلبیس سیاه

چشم او را مژه از تیر بلا
مژه اش میل کش چشم حیا

لبش از ماتم شوهر خندان
تیز در زخم کسانش دندان

دانه دام ضلالت خالش
کنده پای خرد خلخالش

قامتش خاربنی زین بستان
گل او حیله و برگش دستان

بازویش تاب ده پنجه دین
ساعدش پنجه بر صدق و یقین

ساق او دولت ناپاینده
پایه پایه به زوال آینده

نیست از شیوه بالغ نظری
که به دنباله چشمش نگری

صد ضرر بیند ازو ضره او
وای آن کس که شود غره او

ضره اش کیست جهان جاوید
که خرد راست نظرگاه امید

چند ازو روی نهی در پستی
بجه از وی که چو جستی رستی

هست ازو بند امل بگسستن
به خدا عزوجل پیوستن

English translation

O fresh rose that from the Garden of Alast (the Primordial Covenant) Has come to this world, passed hand to hand, The green curtain of the heavens is your bud; This robe fits its stature tightly from you. Though the gardener desires the bud, His sole purpose is the manifestation of the rose, and nothing more. You are the rose, the life of the meadow, and others than you are thorns; Abandon the practice of thorn-worship! On your path, the coarse thorn-bush Sometimes draws gold to its palm, and sometimes to its fist. The bud is a fistful of gold, and the rose is like an open palm, Pouring out for your sake from every direction. The eye of the narcissus is open to gaze upon you, The reed of the nightingale is tuned to your melody. The jasmine rubs perfume for your assembly, The elm-tree spreads an umbrella over your head. The greenery yearns to be your carpet, The wind is content to draw your litter. Your litter has, in every front and back, The tulip sounding like a bell. If the violet did not receive a slap from your hand, Why did its limbs turn blue/violet? The clear water is the mirror of your face, The north wind is the comb-drawer of your hair. Wondrous is the state that all are of your retinue, And in this assembly, all are dependent on you. Yet you have turned your eyes away from everyone's state, And have become delighted with two or three scraps of gold. Sometimes you bind it secretly around your waist, Sometimes you place it on the tray of public display. How does a patched cloak suit your body, While beneath the cloak, you have knotted your gold? Either let the patched cloak be removed from your head, Or let the love of gold be removed from your heart. Being a Sufi and worshipping wealth is not good; Being exalted and leaning toward lowliness is not good. The cash of religion is a jewel, and the world is a shell, And this shell is on the verge of a hundred destructions. Why do you give away the eternal jewel For a shell, especially one that is fleeting? The pleasure of eating and drinking, Resting with a houri-like beauty, Wearing a luxurious robe of satin, Making a home in a vaulted palace, Riding a swift piebald Arabian steed, Scattering dust upon the moon and the sun— All are nothing, and famous for being nothing; Rather, they are much more nothing than nothing itself. They are all rust upon the mirror of the heart; Sever the thread of connection from these things! The world is a foul old hag showing coquetry, Who has ripped the hearts of a hundred fresh youths from their places. She has turned the hearts of those with sun-like hearts into blood, So that she could make her face sunset-colored with it. Her tress is a ring of deceit and trickery, Her glance is a line-breaker of patience and endurance. Her eyebrow is a bent, ancient bow, Made black with the woad of deception. Her eye has eyelashes made of the arrows of calamity, Her eyelashes are kohl-needles drawing away the eye of modesty. Her lips are laughing from the mourning of her husband, Her teeth are sharp for wounding people. Her mole is the seed of the snare of misguidance, Her anklet has bound the feet of wisdom. Her stature is a thorn-bush in this garden; Her rose is trickery and her leaf is deceit. Her arm twists the hand of religion, Her forearm claws at truthfulness and certainty. Her leg is an unstable fortune, Step by step descending toward decline. It is not of the manner of a mature-sighted person To look at the corner of her eye. Her co-wife suffers a hundred harms from her; Woe to the one who is deceived by her! Who is her co-wife? The eternal world, Which is the focal point of hope for the intellect. How long will you turn your face toward lowliness because of her? Leap away from her, for if you leap, you are saved! To sever the bond of hope from her Is to join with God, the Mighty and Majestic.

Updated 2026-07-07

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Ganjoor

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