1Cademy - بخش ۱۳ - حکایت پیر زالی که راه بر سنجر گرفت و از بیراهی یک دو ظالم دادخواهی کرد و ظلم ایشان را از راه برداشت / Section 13 - The Tale of an Old Woman Who Stopped Sanjar on His Way, Sought Justice for the Transgression of One or Two Oppressors, and Removed Their Oppression from the Way

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۱۳ - حکایت پیر زالی که راه بر سنجر گرفت و از بیراهی یک دو ظالم دادخواهی کرد و ظلم ایشان را از راه برداشت / Section 13 - The Tale of an Old Woman Who Stopped Sanjar on His Way, Sought Justice for the Transgression of One or Two Oppressors, and Removed Their Oppression from the Way

Original content

بود در مرو شاهجان زالی
همچو زال جهان کهنسالی

روزی آمد ز خنجر ستمی
بر وی از یک دو لشکری المی

از تظلم زبان چو خنجر کرد
روی در رهگذار سنجر کرد

دید کز راه می رسد سنجر
برده از سرکشی به کیوان سر

بانگ برداشت کای پریشان کار
گوش خود سوی سینه ریشان دار

گوش سنجر چو آن نفیر شنید
بارگی سوی گنده پیر کشید

گفت کای پیرزن چه افتادت
که ز گردون گذشت فریادت

گفت من ز رنجکش یکی زالم
کمتر از صد به اندکی سالم

خفته در خانه ام سه چار یتیم
دلشان بهر نیم نان به دو نیم

غیر نان جوین نخورده طعام
کرده شیرین دهان ز میوه به نام

با من امسال گفت و گو کردند
وز من انگور آرزو کردند

سوی ده جستم از وطن دوری
تن نهادم به رنج مزدوری

دستم اینک چو پنجه مزدور
ز آبله پر چو خوشه انگور

چون ز ده دستمزد خود ستدم
شد پر از آرزویشان سبدم

بادل خرم و لب خندان
رو نهادم به سوی فرزندان

یک دو بیدادگر ز لشکر تو
در ره عدل و ظلم یاور تو

بر من خسته غارت آوردند
سبدم ز آرزو تهی کردند

هیچ کس را چو من ز طالع بد
بر نیامد تهی ز آب سبد

تو چنین فارغ و جگر خواران
از جفای تو خون دل باران

این چه شاهی و مملکتداریست
در دل خلق تخم غم کاریست

دست از عدل و داد داشته ای
ظالمان بر جهان گماشته ای

گرچه امروز نیست حد کسی
که برآرد ز ظلم تو نفسی

چون هویدا شود سرای نهفت
چه جواب خدای خواهی گفت

دی نبودت به تارک سر تاج
وز تو فردا کند اجل تاراج

به یک امروزت این سرور که چه
در سر این نخوت و غرور که چه

کنگر تاج تو چو اره کشید
از جهان بیخ عافیت ببرید

قبه چتر تو چو گشت بلند
سایه ظلم بر جهان افکند

خلقی از تاب مهر بی مایه
با صد افسردگی در آن سایه

تو چنین گرم در جهالت خویش
گام زن در ره ضلالت خویش

تو نهاده به تخت پشت فراغ
میوه عیش می خوری زین باغ

مانده در باغ ظلم بیوه زنان
مضطر از دست ظلم میوه کنان

بیوگان در فغان ز میوه بری
تو گشاده دهان به میوه خوری

پیش ازان کت اجل دهان بندد
خصمت از اشک دوستان خندد

چشم بگشا چو عاقبت بینان
بنگر حال زار مسکینان

شاه سنجر چو حال او دانست
صبر بر حال خویش نتوانست

دست بر رو نهاد و زار گریست
گفت با خود که این چه کارگریست

تف بر این خسروی و شاهی ما
تف بر این زشتی و تباهی ما

شرم ما باد ازین جهانداری
شرم ما باد ازین جهانخواری

ما قوی شاد و دیگران ناشاد
ما خوش آباد و ملک ناآباد

بعد ازان گفت کان دو ظالم را
وان دو سر دفتر مظالم را

دفتر عمر پاره پاره کنند
تا همه ظالمان نظاره کنند

بیوه زن را عطا مقرر کرد
از زر و قلب زر توانگر کرد

داد با زر یکی رزش معمور
تا ازان کودکان خورند انگور

کردش از عدل و جود خود خوشنود
در جهان تا که بود ازان خوش بود

English translation

There was in Merv-e Shahijan an old woman, As aged as the world's own ancient hero Zal. One day, from the dagger of oppression, there came Upon her a pain inflicted by one or two soldiers. From her distress, she made her tongue sharp as a dagger, And turned her face toward the pathway of Sanjar. She saw Sanjar approaching on the road, His head raised in rebellious pride to the highest heavens. She raised her voice, crying: 'O you who work confusion, Keep your ear inclined toward the wounded hearts!' When Sanjar's ear heard that cry of distress, He drew his steed toward the old woman. He said: 'O old woman, what has befallen you, That your cry has risen beyond the heavens?' She said: 'I am an old woman bearing many hardships, My years are just a little less than a hundred. In my home sleep three or four orphans, Their hearts split in half for the sake of half a loaf of bread. They have eaten no food other than barley bread, And have sweetened their mouths only by the names of fruits. This year, they pleaded with me, And begged me for grapes. I went far from my homeland to a village, And resigned myself to the toil of hard labor. My hand is now like that of a hired laborer, Covered with blisters like a cluster of grapes. When I received my wages from the village, My basket became filled with their desires. With a joyful heart and smiling lips, I set off toward my children. One or two oppressors from your army, Who are your helpers on the path of justice and oppression, Brought plunder upon my weary self, And emptied my basket of desires. No one, by ill fortune like mine, Has ever had their basket returned so completely empty. You are so carefree, while the cruel devourers Shed the blood of hearts because of your cruelty. What kind of kingship and governance is this? It is planting the seeds of sorrow in the hearts of the people. You have withheld your hand from justice and equity, And have appointed oppressors over the world. Though today it is beyond anyone's power To utter a sigh against your oppression, When the secret chamber of the afterlife is revealed, What answer will you give to God? Yesterday, you had no crown upon your head, And tomorrow, death will plunder you of everything. With this single day of yours, why this joy? With this arrogance and pride in your head, for what? When the battlements of your crown sawed through the air, They cut down the roots of well-being from the world. When the dome of your royal parasol rose high, It cast the shadow of oppression upon the world. A multitude of people, deprived of the sun's warmth, Linger in that shadow with a hundred griefs. You are so ardent in your ignorance, Treading on the path of your own misguidance. You sit upon the throne in absolute ease, Eating the fruits of pleasure from this garden, While in the garden of oppression remain widows, Helpless at the hands of those who strip them of their fruits. The widows are in lamentation over the plundered fruit, While your mouth is wide open to devour it. Before death shuts your mouth, And your enemy laughs at the tears of your friends, Open your eyes like those who foresee the end, And behold the wretched state of the poor.' When King Sanjar learned of her condition, He could no longer bear his own state. He put his hands over his face and wept bitterly, And said to himself: 'What a powerful effect this has had! Fie upon this sovereignty and kingship of ours! Fie upon this ugliness and ruin of ours! Shame on us for this ruling of the world! Shame on us for this devouring of the world! We are mighty and joyful, while others are unhappy; We are prosperous and comfortable, while the kingdom is ruined.' Thereafter, he commanded that those two oppressors, Those two leaders of injustice, Have the book of their lives torn to pieces, So that all oppressors might watch and take warning. He decreed a stipend for the widow, Enriching her with gold and silver coins. Along with the gold, he gave her a thriving vineyard, So that her children might eat grapes from it. He made her content through his justice and generosity, And as long as she lived in the world, she was happy therewith.

Updated 2026-07-07

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