1Cademy - بخش ۲ - الحكایة و التمثیل / Section 2

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Mosibat Nameh

Poem

بخش ۲ - الحكایة و التمثیل / Section 2 - The Tale and the Parable

Original content

آن شنودی تو که مردی از رجال
کرد از ابلیس سرگردان سؤال

گفت فرمودت خداوند ودود
از چه آدم را نکردی آن سجود

گفت میشد صوفئی در منزلی
بود در مهد بزر سنگین دلی

ماه روئی دختر سلطان عهد
برفتاد از باد ناگه پیش مهد

چشم صوفی بر جمال او فتاد
آتشی در پر و بال او فتاد

دید روئی کآفتابش بنده بود
صبح صادق را از آن لب خنده بود

در دل آن صوفی شوریده حال
آتشی بس سخت افکند آن جمال

عشق آن سلطان سر جادو پرست
در دل صوفی به سلطانی نشست

هر زمانش درد دیگر تازه کرد
دست کاریهای بی اندازه کرد

دل نبود از عشق در فرمان او
دل شد و برخاست آمد جان او

دختر القصه ازو آگاه شد
پیش مهدش خواند تا همراه شد

گفت ای صوفی چرا حیران شدی
این چه افتادت که سرگردان شدی

گفت صوفی را نباشد جز دلی
دل تو بردی اینت مشکل مشکلی

عشق تو دل برد و جان میخواهدم
جان ره عشقت نشان میخواهدم

شور ما از ماه تا ماهی رسید
هین اگر فریاد می خواهی رسید

گر توام درمان کنی من جان برم
نی بجان تو که گر درمان برم

دخترش گفتا که چندینی مگوی
وصل من در پرده چندینی مجوی

گرچه شیرینی و نیکوئیم هست
در فشانی در سخن گوئیم هست

گر به بینی خواهرم را یک زمان
تیر مژگانش کند پشتت کمان

آنچه آن را صوفیان گویند آن
از جمال خواهرم جویند آن

گر تو هستی صوفی اکنون آن طلب
ورنه مردی هرزه گوئی نان طلب

بنگر اکنون گر نداری باورم
کز پسم میآید اینک خواهرم

گر ببینی روی آن زیبا نگار
ننگری در روی چون من صد هزار

بنگرست آخر ز پس آن سست عهد
تا فرو افکند دختر پیش مهد

گفت اگر عاشق بدی یک ذره او
کی شدی هرگز به غیری غره او

صوفی پخته نبود او خام بود
مرد دم بود او و مرغ دام بود

خوش بود در عشق من گشتن تباه
پس به روی دیگری کردن نگاه

این چنین کس را ادب کردن نکوست
سر فرو افکندن از گردن نکوست

ظن چنان بردم که بس چست آمد او
امتحانش کردم و سست آمد او

خادمی را خواند و گفتا تن بزن
زود صوفی را ببر گردن بزن

تا کسی در عشق چون من دلنواز
ننگرد هرگز بسوی هیچ باز

قصهٔ ابلیس و این قصه یکیست
می ندانم تا کرا اینجا شکیست

گرچه مردودست هم نومید نیست
لعنت او را گوئیا جاوید نیست

گرچه این دم هست نومیدیش کار
در امیدی میگذارد روزگار

English translation

Have you heard that a man among the great men Asked a question of the wandering Iblis? He said, 'The Loving Lord commanded you; Why did you not perform that prostration to Adam?' He said, 'A Sufi was passing by a place, There was a hard-hearted one in a golden litter. A moon-faced beauty, the daughter of the sultan of the time, The wind suddenly blew the veil off before her litter. The Sufi's eyes fell upon her beauty, And a fire fell upon his wings and feathers. He saw a face to which the sun was a slave, The true dawn drew its smile from those lips. In the heart of that bewildered Sufi, That beauty cast a very fierce fire. The love of that sultan of magic-worshipping heads, Sat in the Sufi's heart with sovereign power. Every moment it renewed a different pain in him, It performed immeasurable deeds. His heart was no longer under his command out of love, The heart departed, and his soul rose up and came forth. In short, the girl became aware of him, She called him before her litter so he became her companion. She said, 'O Sufi, why have you become bewildered? What has happened to you that you are wandering?' He said, 'A Sufi has nothing but a heart, You have taken my heart; this is a difficult problem indeed. Your love took my heart and now demands my soul, My soul demands the path of your love as a sign. My tumult has reached from the moon to the fish, Behold, if you wish to come to my rescue! If you cure me, I will carry away my soul, No, by your life, for if I receive a cure...' Her daughter said to him, 'Do not speak so much, Do not seek my union behind the veil so much. Although I have sweetness and goodness, And there is pearl-scattering in my speech, If you see my sister for a moment, The arrow of her eyelashes will bend your back like a bow. Whatever the Sufis call that, They seek that from my sister's beauty. If you are a Sufi, now seek that, Otherwise, you are a babbling man seeking bread. Look now, if you do not believe me, For my sister is coming right behind me. If you see the face of that beautiful idol, You would not look at a hundred thousand faces like mine.' That weak-covenanted man finally looked behind him, So the girl cast him down before the litter. She said, 'If he were a lover even a single atom, When would he ever be beguiled by another?' He was not a mature Sufi; he was raw. He was a man of mere breath, and a bird of the snare. Is it pleasant to be destroyed in my love, And then cast a glance upon the face of another? It is good to discipline such a person, It is good to strike his head from his neck. I thought he had come very eagerly, I tested him, and he turned out to be weak. She called a servant and said, 'Strike his body, Take the Sufi away quickly and strike his neck. So that anyone in love with a heart-soother like me, Will never again look towards anyone else.' The story of Iblis and this story are one; I do not know who could have any doubt here. Although he is rejected, he is still not devoid of hope, It is as though the curse upon him is not eternal. Although his work at this moment is hopelessness, He passes his days in hope.'

Updated 2026-07-03

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