1Cademy - بخش ۵۰ - داستان ملاقات اسکندر باآن پادشاه زاده گریزان از تخت و افسر و مقالات ایشان با یکدگر / Section 50 - The Tale of Alexanders Meeting with That Prince Who Had Fled from Throne and Crown, and Their Discourses with One Another

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Haft Awrang

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بخش ۵۰ - داستان ملاقات اسکندر باآن پادشاه زاده گریزان از تخت و افسر و مقالات ایشان با یکدگر / Section 50 - The Tale of Alexander's Meeting with That Prince Who Had Fled from Throne and Crown, and Their Discourses with One Another

Original content

مغنی چو بندد در آهنگ فقر
ز پشمینه ابریشم چنگ فقر

دهد این نوای کهن را نوی
که خسر است دیباچه خسروی

خوش آن شه که این نغمه را گوش کرد
نوای غنا را فراموش کرد

برافشاند از لذت این سماع
به ملک جهان آستین وداع

چو اسکندر آن شاه کشور ستان
کشید از پی فتح شهری سنان

بر آن شهر زد حمله بار نخست
ز خار سنانش گل فتح رست

ازان گل شد آن شهر خندان چو باغ
وز آن یافت آن تیره زندان چراغ

در آن روشنی خلق جمع آمدند
چو پروانگان سوی شمع آمدند

ازیشان بپرسید شاه جهان
که ای آگهان ز آشکار و نهان

ز شاهان پیشین کسی زنده هست
که بر تخت شاهی تواند نشست

بگفتند آری کسی مانده است
که از نقد شاهی کف افشانده است

ز سر کرده بیرون تمنای تاج
فروبسته دست از قبول خراج

ز خرپشته گورها کرده جاست
ز الواحشان خوانده حرف فناست

چنان گشته آن شیر دل صید گور
کز آهوی چین است طبعش نفور

گرفته ز شاهی ره بندگان
نیاید به منزلگه زندگان

چو در موعظت گوهرافشان کند
سخنهاش تأثیر در جان کند

شود کاسه گیر از سر مردگان
دهد شربت وعظ افسردگان

ز تنهای فرسودگان سرمه وش
شود دیده خلق را سرمه کش

بفرمود شه تا به فر حضور
دهد مجلسش را چو خورشید نور

سوی شاه بعد از زمانی دو سه
درآمد به دست استخوانی دو سه

سکندر بدو گفت ازین سبز خوان
چه گیری به دست این دو سه استخوان

بگفتا که کردم درین دشتگاه
به گور گدایان و شاهان نگاه

نشد استخوان های شاهان جدا
به چشم من از استخوان گدا

چو آخر گرفتار یکرنگی اند
ز آغاز با هم چرا جنگی اند

دگرباره گفتش که ای ارجمند
اگر هوشیاری و همت بلند

بیا تا به شاهی رسانم تو را
وز این خیره گردی رهانم تو را

بگفتا نه زان گونه دون همتم
که گردد ز شاهی فزون همتم

ز همت بلندیم سرمایه ایست
کزان تخت شاهی کمین پایه ایست

نخواهد دلم فارغ از هر هوس
به جز چار چیز از دو گیتی و بس

یکی عمر پاینده سرمدی
ز طاعتوری حاصل و بخردی

حیاتی بقای ابد دامنش
فنا رخت بسته ز پیرامنش

دوم نوبهار جوانی کزان
به یکسو بود دستبرد خزان

خزان بهار شباب است شیب
جوان را ز پیری فزون نیست عیب

سوم شادیی پایه اش پست نی
غم این جهان را بر او دست نی

همه راحت و رنج ها دور ازو
دل و دیده جاوید پر نور ازو

چهارم غنایی چنان دلپسند
که از ذل فقرش نباشد گزند

نهد مایه خرمی در مزاج
بشوید ز خاطر غم احتیاج

بدو گفت شه کای به دانش عزیز
نه مقدور من باشد این چار چیز

درین کارگه هر که جز کردگار
ندارد درین چار هیچ اختیار

بگفت اذن ده تا روم بر دری
کزین نخل مقصود یابم بری

برآید ز احسان او کام من
ز بام فلک بگذرد نام من

سکندر چو آن نکته را گوش کرد
ز چیزی که می گفت خاموش کرد

رسوم تکلف ز وی دور داشت
ز تکلیف شاهیش معذور داشت

بیا ساقیا می به کشتن فکن
کزین موج زن بحر کشتی شکن

سلامت کشم رخت خود بر کنار
وز این بی قراریم زاید قرار

بیا مطربا زخمه بر چنگ زن
وزآن پرده این دلکش آهنگ زن

که خوش وقت آن بی سر و پا گدای
که زد افسر شاه را پشت پای

ز خود هر که خالی رود چون حباب
سزد گر نهد پای بر روی آب

رهد هر که باشد سبک رو چو کف
درین قلزم از بیم موج تلف

English translation

When the minstrel tunes to the melody of poverty, from the woolen frock he strings the harp of poverty. He gives this ancient tune a fresh newness, for its foundation is the frontispiece of kingship. Happy is that king who lent an ear to this song, and forgot the melody of wealth. From the delight of this audition he cast away, and waved farewell to the sleeve of the world's dominion. Like Alexander, that country-conquering king, who drew his lance to seize a city. He struck his assault upon that city at first, and from the thorn of his lance blossomed the rose of victory. From that rose the city grew smiling like a garden, and from it that dark prison found a lamp. In that brightness the people gathered together, coming like moths toward the candle. The king of the world asked of them, "O you who are aware of the manifest and the hidden, of the former kings is anyone still alive who could sit upon the throne of sovereignty?" They said, "Yes, one remains who has cast off his hand from the coin of kingship, who has put out of his head the longing for the crown, and shut his hand against accepting tribute. He has made his dwelling among the mounds of graves, and from their tablets has read the letters of annihilation. That lion-hearted one has so become a hunter of graves that his nature shuns the musk-deer of China. He has taken from kingship the way of servants, and does not come to the abode of the living. When he preaches, scattering pearls, his words leave their effect upon the soul. He becomes a beggar's bowl at the head of the dead, and gives the sherbet of counsel to the withered ones. From the worn-out bodies, like collyrium, he becomes the kohl-applier to the people's eyes." The king commanded that with the splendor of presence he give light to his gathering like the sun. After a while, toward the king he came, with two or three bones in his hand. Alexander said to him, "From this green table why do you take in hand these two or three bones?" He said, "I have looked in this plain upon the graves of beggars and of kings. The bones of the kings were not distinguished from the bones of the beggar to my eye. Since in the end they are captives of one hue, why from the beginning are they at war with one another?" Once more he said to him, "O honored one, if you have sound mind and lofty aspiration, come, that I may raise you to kingship, and deliver you from this bewildered wandering." He said, "I am not of so base an aspiration that my aspiration should be increased by kingship. My loftiness of aspiration is a capital for which the throne of kingship is the lowest step. My heart, free from every desire, wants nothing but four things out of the two worlds, and no more: first, an everlasting eternal life, attained through obedience and wisdom— a life whose skirt is trailed by eternal permanence, from whose surroundings annihilation has packed its baggage; second, the springtime of youth from which the ravaging of autumn stays far away— the autumn of the spring of youth is old age; for the young there is no fault greater than aging; third, a joy whose foundation is not low, over which the sorrow of this world has no power— all comfort, with pains far from it, heart and eye forever full of light from it; fourth, a riches so pleasing to the heart that from the abasement of poverty it takes no harm— it lays the ground of gladness in the temperament, and washes from the mind the sorrow of need." The king said to him, "O precious in knowledge, these four things are not within my power. In this workshop, everyone save the Creator has no choice at all in these four." He said, "Grant leave that I may go to a door from which I may find fruit from this palm-tree of my purpose. My desire may be fulfilled through His beneficence, and my name may pass beyond the roof of heaven." When Alexander heard that subtle point, he fell silent about what he had been saying. He kept the customs of formality far from him, and excused him from the obligation of his kingship. Come, O cupbearer, cast the wine to the slaying, for from this surging, ship-wrecking sea I may carry my baggage safely to the shore, and from this restlessness of mine may be born repose. Come, O musician, strike the plectrum upon the harp, and from that mode strike this heart-ravishing tune, for happy is the time of that penniless, footloose beggar who kicked his heel against the crown of the king. Whoever goes empty of self, like a bubble, it befits that he set foot upon the face of the water. Whoever is light-footed, like foam, escapes in this vast sea from the fear of destroying waves.

Updated 2026-07-19

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Ganjoor

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