1Cademy - بخش ۴۲ - حکایت آن جوان رعنا که جامه های عید پوشید و به نظر عجب در خود نگریست و به آن تیر زهرآلود از پای در افتاد / Section 42 - The Tale of That Handsome Youth Who Donned His Festival Garments and Gazed at Himself in Wonder, and Fell from His Feet by That Poison-Tipped Arrow

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۴۲ - حکایت آن جوان رعنا که جامه های عید پوشید و به نظر عجب در خود نگریست و به آن تیر زهرآلود از پای در افتاد / Section 42 - The Tale of That Handsome Youth Who Donned His Festival Garments and Gazed at Himself in Wonder, and Fell from His Feet by That Poison-Tipped Arrow

Original content

جوانی به بر جامه خسروی
رخش نسخه خامه مانوی

همی شد ز خواب سحر خاسته
پی عیدگه رفتن آراسته

ز آغاز چون صبح دولت نوید
بپوشید دراعه ای بس سفید

به بالای دراعه صبح رنگ
زمرد قبایی به بر کرد تنگ

چو ماه از شفق کرد بر خود تمام
فراز قبا حله لعل فام

ز آیینه دار آنگه آیینه جست
کز آیینه شد کار خودبین درست

بدانسان خوش آمد جمال خودش
که پر شد ضمیر از خیال خودش

به خود گفت من شاه و شهزاده ام
ز شهزادگان نادر افتاده ام

ز مه تا به ماهی که باشد چو من
سزاوار شاهی که باشد چو من

بگفت این و بر بارگی شد سوار
سپاه از قفایش هزاران هزار

قدم نانهاده به میدان عید
شد از لغزش رخش قربان عید

به جانش خدنگ هلاک اوفتاد
ز تیری که خود زد به خاک اوفتاد

خوش آن کس که بینایی از سر گرفت
نظر همچو دیده ز خود برگرفت

همه نیک را دید و بد را ندید
بد و نیک بگذار خود را ندید

بیا ساقیا آن بلورینه جام
که از روشنی باشد آیینه فام

بده تا علی رغم هر خودنما
نماید خرد عیب ما را به ما

بیا مطربا در نوا مو شکاف
وز آن مو که بشکافتی پرده باف

که تا پرده بر چشم خود گستریم
چو خودبین حریفان به خود ننگریم

English translation

A youth with a royal robe upon his body, his face a copy fresh from Mani's brush; he had risen from sleep at the break of dawn, adorned to set out for the festival ground. From the outset, like the morn of fortune's promise, he put on a robe exceedingly white; over that dawn-hued robe he wrapped an emerald tunic tight about him. Like the moon completing itself out of the twilight, over the tunic a garment of ruby hue. Then he sought a mirror from the mirror-keeper, for by the mirror the self-admirer's work is set right. His own beauty so delighted him that his mind was filled with the fancy of himself. He said to himself: 'I am a king and a prince, of princes I have turned out a rare one. From the moon above to the fish below, who is like me? Worthy of kingship, who is there like me?' He said this and mounted upon his steed, behind him thousands upon thousands of troops. Before he had set foot in the festival field, he became the festival's sacrifice through his steed's stumble. The arrow of destruction fell upon his soul; by a shaft he himself had loosed, he fell to the dust. Happy is the one who took up his sight anew, and withdrew his gaze, like the eye, from himself; he saw all that is good and did not see the bad, nay, leaving good and bad aside, he did not see himself. Come, cupbearer, bring that crystal cup that from its brightness is mirror-hued; give it, so that, despite every self-displayer, wisdom may show our own flaws back to us. Come, minstrel, split hairs upon the melody, and from that hair you have split, weave a veil, that we may spread a curtain over our own eyes and, unlike self-gazing companions, not stare at ourselves.

Updated 2026-07-20

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