1Cademy - بخش ۶۵ - حکایت آن پیر خمیده پشت که در طریق محبت قالب راست بر زمین ننهاد و به سبب کجروی خود از نظر معشوق راست بین افتاد / Section 65 - The Story of That Bent-Backed Old Man Who, on the Path of Love, Did Not Lay His Body Straight Upon the Ground and, Due to His Crooked Glance, Fell from the Sight of the Straight-Seeing Beloved

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۶۵ - حکایت آن پیر خمیده پشت که در طریق محبت قالب راست بر زمین ننهاد و به سبب کجروی خود از نظر معشوق راست بین افتاد / Section 65 - The Story of That Bent-Backed Old Man Who, on the Path of Love, Did Not Lay His Body Straight Upon the Ground and, Due to His Crooked Glance, Fell from the Sight of the Straight-Seeing Beloved

Original content

چارده ساله مهی بر لب بام
چون مه چارده در حسن تمام

بر سر سرو کله گوشه شکست
بر گل از سنبل تر سلسله بست

داد هنگامه مشعوقی ساز
شیوه جلوه گری کرد آغاز

او فروزان چو مه و کرده هجوم
بر در و بامش اسیران چو نجوم

ناگهان پشت خمی همچو هلال
دامن از خون چو شفق مالامال

کرد در قبله او روی امید
ساخت فرش ره او موی سفید

گوهر اشک به مژگان می سفت
وز دو دیده گهر افشان می گفت

کای پری با همه فرزانگیم
نام رفت از تو به دیوانگیم

لاله سان سوخته باغ توام
سبزه وش پی سپر باغ توام

نظر لطف به حالم بگشای
رنگ اندوه ز جانم بزدای

نوجوان حال کهن پیر چو دید
بوی صدق از نفس او نشنید

گفت کای پیر پراکنده نظر
رو بگردان به قفا باز نگر

که در آن منظره گل رخساریست
که جهان از رخ او گلزاریست

او چو خورشید فلک من ماهم
من کمین بنده او و او شاهم

عشقبازان چو جمالش نگرند
من که باشم که مرا نام برند

پیر بیچاره چو آن سو نگریست
تا ببیند که در آن منظره کیست

زد جوان دست و فکند از بامش
داد چون سایه به خاک آرامش

کان که با ما ره سودا سپرد
نیست لایق که دگر جا نگرد

هست آیین دو بینی ز هوس
قبله عشق یکی باشد و بس

English translation

A fourteen-year-old moon on the edge of the roof, Like the full moon of the fourteenth night in perfect beauty. He tilted his cap on his cypress-like head, And bound a chain of fresh hyacinth on the rose. He prepared the gathering of being a beloved, And began his manner of self-display. He shone like the moon, and there rushed To his door and roof captives like stars. Suddenly, one with a bent back like the crescent moon, His skirt overflowing with blood like the twilight, Turned the face of hope toward his Qiblah, And paved his path with his white hair. He threaded the pearls of tears on his eyelashes, And, scattering gems from his two eyes, he said: 'O fairy, despite all my wisdom, My name has become renowned for madness because of you. Like a tulip, I am burnt in your garden, Like grass, I am trampled in your garden. Open a glance of grace to my state, Erase the color of grief from my soul.' When the youth saw the state of the ancient old man, He did not perceive the scent of sincerity from his breath. He said: 'O old man of scattered gaze, Turn your face back and look behind you. For in that window is a rose-faced one, By whose face the world is a rose-garden. He is like the sun of heaven and I am the moon; I am his lowest servant and he is my king. When lovers look upon his beauty, Who am I that they should mention my name?' When the wretched old man looked that way, To see who was in that window, The youth struck with his hand and cast him from the roof, Giving him rest upon the dust like a shadow. For he who walks the path of love with us, Is not fit to look elsewhere. The practice of seeing double arises from lust; The Qiblah of love is one, and that is all.

Updated 2026-07-19

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