1Cademy - بخش ۱ - المقاله الخامس عشر / Section 1

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Asrar Nameh

Poem

بخش ۱ - المقاله الخامس عشر / Section 1 - The Fifteenth Discourse

Original content

نکو باریست در دنیا و برگی
که درخوردست سر باریش مرگی

نکو جاییست گور تنگ و تاریک
که در باید صراطی نیز باریک

پلی نیکوست چون موی صراطی
که دوزخ باید آن پل را رباطی

تو گویی نیست چندین غم تمامت
که در باید غم روز قیامت

درین معنی مجال دم زدن نیست
همه رفتند و کس را آمدن نیست

نه کس از رفتگان دارد نشانی
نه کس دیدست زین وادی کرانی

جهانی جان درین محنت دو نیم است
که داند کین چه گردابی عظیم است

جهانی سر درین ره گوی راهست
که داند کین چه وادی سیاه است

جهانی خلق درغرقاب خونند
که می داند که زیر خاک چونند

جهان را کرده ناکرده ست جمله
که بازییی پس پرده ست جمله

چه مقصودست چندین رنج بردن
که چون شمعی فرو خواهیم مردن

جهان بی هیچ باقی خوش سراییست
ولی چون نیست باقی این بلاییست

جهان بگذار و بگذر زین سخن زود
چو باقی نیست در باقیش کن زود

تو تا بودی ز دنیا خسته بودی
بهر ره جان کنی پیوسته بودی

نه هرگز لقمه ای بی قهر خوردی
نه هرگز شربتی بی زهر خوردی

هزاران سیل خونین بر دلت بست
که تا بادی ز عالم بر دلت جست

تو خود اندیشه کن گر کاردانی
که تا خود مرگ به یا زندگانی

هزاران غم فرو آمد برویت
که تا یک آب آمد در گلویت

همه دنیا بیک جو غم نیرزد
چه یک جو نیم ارزن هم نیرزد

غم دنیا مخور ای دوست بسیار
که در دنیا نخواهد ماند دیار

چه می نازی بدین دنیای غدار
که تو کرکس نئی گر اوست مردار

همه تخم جهان برداشته گیر
بدست آورده و بگذاشته گیر

English translation

A fine baggage and provision in the world it is, That deserves a topping-load of death. The narrow and dark grave is a fine place, For which a narrow bridge of Sirat is also needed. A fine bridge is Sirat, like a single hair, For which Hell must serve as a stopping place. You might say all this sorrow is not enough for you, That the sorrow of the Day of Resurrection is also needed! In this matter, there is no room to breathe a word; Everyone has departed, and no one returns. No one has any sign from the departed; No one has seen a shore to this valley. A world of souls is cleft in twain in this affliction; Who knows what a colossal whirlpool this is? A world of heads serves as the ball on this path; Who knows what a pitch-black valley this is? A world of people is drowning in an abyss of blood; Who knows how they fare beneath the dirt? All the deeds of the world are as if undone, For it is entirely a play behind a curtain. What is the purpose of bearing so much hardship, When we are bound to die out like a candle? The world, with nothing eternal in it, is a pleasant estate; But since it is not eternal, it is a sheer calamity. Abandon the world and move past this talk quickly; Since it is not eternal, spend it quickly for the Eternal. As long as you existed, you were wounded by the world; In every path, you were constantly suffering. Never did you eat a single morsel without wrath; Never did you drink a single sip without poison. Thousands of bloody floods congealed upon your heart, Just so a breath of the world could reach your heart. Think for yourself, if you are capable of the task: Which is truly better, death or life? Thousands of sorrows fell upon your face, Just so a drop of water could go down your throat. The whole world is not worth a single barleycorn of sorrow; Not even a barleycorn—it is not worth half a millet grain! Do not suffer much for the sorrow of the world, O friend; For no one will remain in the world. Why do you pride yourself in this treacherous world? You are not a vulture, even if the world is a carcass. Assume you have gathered all the world's harvest; Assume you have gained it all, and then left it behind.

Updated 2026-07-03

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