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

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Asrar Nameh

Poem

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

Original content

درآمد آن فقیر از خانقاهی
نهاده بر سر از ژنده کلاهی

یکی گفتش بطیبت ای خردمند
کلاه ار می فروشی قیمتش چند

جواب این بود آن درویش دین را
بکل کون نفروشم من این را

بسی خلقم خریدار کلاه اند
بکل کون از من می بخواهند

بنفروشم که دانم بهتر ارزد
که یک نخ زو دو گیتی گوهر ارزد

چه دانی تو که من در سر چه دارم
چو من خود بی سرم افسر چه دارم

دلا بیدار شو گر هست دردیت
که ناوردند بهر خواب و خوردیت

گرفتم جملهٔ عالم بخوردی
ندانی جستن از مردن بمردی

ترا تا کی ز تو ای آفت خویش
تویی آفت تو هم برخیز از پیش

بگو تا کی ز بی شرمی و شوخی
چه سنگین دل کسی، گویی کلوخی

بکن هرچت همی باید کژ و راست
اگر این را نخواهد بود واخواست

اگر چون خاک ره زر خواهدت بود
ز خاک راه بستر خواهدت بود

ترا چرخ فلک در چرخه انداخت
که بر یک جو زرت صد نرخه انداخت

English translation

That poor dervish emerged from a khanqah, Having placed a patched cap upon his head. Someone said to him in jest, 'O wise one, If you were to sell this cap, what is its price?' The reply of that dervish of faith was this: 'I would not sell it for the entire universe. Many people are buyers of my cap, Demanding it from me for the price of the whole universe. I will not sell, for I know it is worth more, Since a single thread of it is worth the jewels of both worlds. What do you know of what I have in my head? Since I am headless myself, what crown do I possess? O heart, awaken, if you possess any spiritual pain, For you were not brought here merely to sleep and eat. Suppose you have consumed the entire world, You do not know how to escape death by bravery. How long will you suffer from yourself, O you who are your own affliction? You are your own affliction; arise and step out of your own way. Say, how long with this shamelessness and insolence? What a hard-hearted person you are, it is as if you are a clod of dirt. Do whatever you please, whether crooked or straight, If you think there will be no accounting for it! Even if you come to possess gold like the dust of the road, From the dust of the road shall your bed be made. The wheel of the cosmos has thrown you into its spin, Casting a hundred prices upon a single barleycorn of your gold.'

Updated 2026-07-03

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