1Cademy - بخش ۶ - الحكایة و التمثیل / Section 6

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Mosibat Nameh

Poem

بخش ۶ - الحكایة و التمثیل / Section 6 - The Tale and the Parable

Original content

یک شبی محمود شاه حق شناس
اشک می افشاند بر روی ایاس

جامه چون از اشک خود درخون کشید
موزهٔ او عاقبت بیرون کشید

طشت آورد و گلاب آن نیک نام
شست اندر طشت زر پای غلام

گرچه بسیاری گلابش پیش بود
صد ره اشکش از گلابش بیش بود

چون بدامن خشک کردی پای او
تر شدی از چشم خون پالای او

روی آخر بر کف پایش نهاد
پس ز دست عشق در پایش فتاد

تا به روز از پای او سر بر نداشت
پای او از دیدهٔ تر برنداشت

میگریست از آتش سودای او
بوسه میزد هر نفس بر پای او

شمع باشه نیز خوش خوش میگریست
همچو شه جانی پر آتش میگریست

شاهد و شب بود و شاه و شمع بود
هرچه باید جمله آن شب جمع بود

وی عجب شه در چنان عیشی تمام
روی میمالید در پای غلام

عشق چون جائی چنین زوری کند
شیر را دندان کنان موری کند

گر نبودی این چنین شب هرگزت
من نخوانم جز گدائی عاجزت

قدر این شب عاشقان دانند و بس
ذوق سیمرغی کجا داند مگس

عاقبت چون گشت هشیار آن غلام
گشته بد بیهش شاه نیک نام

چون نگه کرد آن غلام از سوی او
دید پای خویشتن بر روی او

پای از روی شهنشه برنداشت
زآنکه او در خویش موئی سر نداشت

همچنان میبود تا شاه بلند
گشت از بیهوشی خود هوشمند

چون به هوش آمد شه عالی مقام
گفت چه بی حرمتیست این ای غلام

گفت این بی حرمتی در کل حال
هست شاه هفت کشور را کمال

زآنکه شاهی بندگی میبایدت
سرکشی افکندگی میبایدت

داشتی از پادشاهی زندگی
آمدی اندر لباس بندگی

از خداوندی دلت بگرفته بود
لاجرم بر بندگی آشتفه بود

چون همه بودی همه میخواستی
شاه بودی بندگی را خاستی

بنده را کردی به می بیخود تمام
تا شبی در بندگی کردی قیام

خیز کز تو بندگی زیبنده نیست
من بسم بنده که سلطان بنده نیست

بندگی چون نیست بر بالای تو
خیز با سر شو که نیست این جای تو

سرنشینی بس بود شه را مدام
پای بوسیدن رها کن با غلام

این بگفت و گفت شاها هر نفس
بر دل خود میدهی تو بوس و بس

چون دلت این خواست تو دانی و دل
من کیم تا در میان گردم خجل

بند بندم جمله در فرمان تست
بوسه بر هر جا که دادی زان تست

English translation

One night, Mahmud, the truth-knowing king, Was shedding tears upon the face of Ayaz. When his garments were stained with blood from his tears, He finally pulled off his boots. That good-named king brought a basin and rosewater, And washed the slave's feet in the golden basin. Although he had plenty of rosewater before him, His tears were a hundred times more than the rosewater. When he dried the slave's feet with his skirt, They became wet again from his blood-shedding eyes. At last, he laid his face on the sole of his feet, And then, fell at his feet out of love's hand. Until morning, he did not raise his head from his feet, Nor did he lift the feet from his wet eyes. He wept from the fire of his passionate desire, And kissed his feet with every breath. The candle, too, was weeping softly and sweetly, Weeping with a burning soul just like the king. The beloved, the night, the king, and the candle were there; Everything that was needed was gathered that night. Oh how strange, the king in such complete pleasure, Was rubbing his face against the feet of the slave! When love exerts such strength in a place, It turns a tooth-gnashing lion into an ant. If you have never had such a night, I call you nothing but a helpless beggar. Only lovers know the value of this night, How can a fly know the taste of the Simurgh? Finally, when that slave became conscious, The good-named king had fallen unconscious. When the slave looked in his direction, He saw his own foot on his face. He did not lift his foot from the king's face, For he possessed not a single hair of self-will. He remained so until the lofty king Became conscious and returned to his senses. When the high-ranking king came to his senses, He said, 'What disrespect is this, O slave?' He replied, 'This disrespect in every state, Is the perfection of the king of seven climes. For kingship requires servitude of you, And rebelliousness requires submission. You had life from kingship, Yet you came in the garments of servitude. Your heart was tired of sovereignty, Inevitably, it was restless for servitude. Since you were all, you wanted all; You were a king, yet you sought servitude. You made the servant completely senseless with wine, So that you might stand in servitude for a night. Arise, for servitude is not becoming of you; I am servant enough, the sultan is not a servant. Since servitude does not fit your stature, Arise, return to your place, for this is not your station. Being high-seated is always enough for the king, Leave kissing the feet of the slave.' He said this, and added, 'O king, with every breath, You kiss your own heart and nothing else. Since your heart desired this, you know your heart; Who am I to be embarrassed in the middle? Every joint of mine is entirely under your command, Wherever you kissed, it belongs to you.'

Updated 2026-07-03

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