1Cademy - بخش ۲۹ - حکایت کشیدن پیکان از تیر راست رو کیش ولایت کرم الله تعالی وجهه در وقتی که از کشاکش کمان مجاهده بر نشان مشاهده افتاده بود / Section 29 - The Tale of Extracting the Arrowhead from the Straight-going Arrow of the Realm of Guardianship (Ali), May Allah the Exalted Honor His Face, at the Time When from the Pulling of the Bow of Spiritual Struggle, He Had Fallen upon the Target of Contemplation

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۲۹ - حکایت کشیدن پیکان از تیر راست رو کیش ولایت کرم الله تعالی وجهه در وقتی که از کشاکش کمان مجاهده بر نشان مشاهده افتاده بود / Section 29 - The Tale of Extracting the Arrowhead from the Straight-going Arrow of the Realm of Guardianship (Ali), May Allah the Exalted Honor His Face, at the Time When from the Pulling of the Bow of Spiritual Struggle, He Had Fallen upon the Target of Contemplation

Original content

شیر خدا شاه ولایت علی
صیقلی شرک خفی و جلی

روز احد چون صف هیجا گرفت
تیر مخالف به تنش جا گرفت

غنچه پیکان به گل او نهفت
صد گل محنت ز گل او شکفت

روی عبادت سوی محراب کرد
پشت به درد سر اصحاب کرد

خنجر الماس چو بید آختند
چاک به تن چون گلش انداختند

غرقه به خون غنچه زنگارگون
آمد ازان گلبن احسان برون

گل گل خونش به مصلا چکید
گفت چو فارغ ز نماز آن بدید

این همه گل چیست ته پای من
ساخته گلزار مصلای من

صورت حالش چو نمودند باز
گفت که سوگند به دانای راز

کز الم تیغ ندارم خبر
گرچه ز من نیست خبردارتر

طایر من سدره نشین شد چه باک
گر شودم تن چو قفس چاک چاک

جامی از آلایش تن پاک شو
در قدم پاکروان خاک شو

باشد ازان خاک به گردی رسی
گرد شکافی و به مردی رسی

English translation

The Lion of God, the King of Guardianship, Ali, The polisher of hidden and manifest polytheism. On the day of Uhud, when the ranks of battle formed, An enemy arrow found its place in his body. The bud of the arrowhead hid within his flesh, A hundred flowers of suffering blossomed from his clay. He turned his face of worship toward the prayer niche, And turned his back to the troubles of his companions. They drew diamond-sharp blades like willow leaves, And cut into his rose-like body. Drenched in blood, that rust-colored bud (the arrowhead) Emerged from that rosebush of benevolence. Rose by rose, his blood dripped onto the prayer rug; When he finished his prayer and saw it, he said: 'What are all these roses beneath my feet, That have turned my prayer place into a rose garden?' When they explained the situation to him, He said: 'By the Knower of Secrets (God), I have no awareness of the pain of the blade, Even though there is none more conscious than me. My bird (of soul) has become a dweller of the Lote Tree; what fear is there If my body, like a cage, is torn to pieces?' Jami, purify yourself from the pollution of the body, And become dust at the feet of the pure-spirited ones. Perchance from that dust you may reach a speck, Part the dust, and attain true spiritual chivalry.

Updated 2026-07-19

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