1Cademy - بخش ۵۲ - حکایت خصومت غلام و خاتون مرزبان مرو با یکدیگر و بهتان آموختن غلام مر طوطیان را و ظاهر شدن آن بهتان / Section 52 - The Tale of the Enmity between the Slave and the Wife of the Marzban of Merv with One Another, and the Slave Teaching the Parrots Slander, and That Slander Being Revealed

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۵۲ - حکایت خصومت غلام و خاتون مرزبان مرو با یکدیگر و بهتان آموختن غلام مر طوطیان را و ظاهر شدن آن بهتان / Section 52 - The Tale of the Enmity between the Slave and the Wife of the Marzban of Merv with One Another, and the Slave Teaching the Parrots Slander, and That Slander Being Revealed

Original content

یکی مرزبان بود در مرز مرو
زنی داشت عارض چو گل قد چو سرو

ز خیل غلامان سیاهیش بود
که پنهان به آن زن نگاهیش بود

بسی در میان شور و غوغا گذشت
که با وی یکی گردد اما نگشت

به کین شد بدل مهر مدبر غلام
کمر بست در معرض انتقام

دو طوطی ز بازار مرغان خرید
کزان گونه مرغان سلیمان ندید

به تعلیم هر یک زبان برگشاد
به رازی زبان نکته ای یاد داد

یکی را نرفتی جز این بر زبان
که شد یار حاجب زن مرزبان

دگر گفتی این حال بس روشن است
ولی گفتن آن نه کار من است

چو مرغان بدین نغمه دانا شدند
بر این نکته گفتن توانا شدند

به خلوتگه مرزبان بردشان
به محجوبه خاص بسپردشان

جز این نکته شان هیچ دستان نبود
ولی مرد مسکین زیان دان نبود

به عشرت همی خورد می صبح و شام
بدان نغمه خوش خاطر و شاد کام

ز ناگه ظریفی ز اعیان ری
در اثنای آن گشت مهمان وی

به مهمان نوازی طرب ساز کرد
می آورد و می خوردن آغاز کرد

چو شد گرمش از آتش می دماغ
برافروخت طبعش چو روشن چراغ

بگفت آن دو مرغ سخن ساز را
دو خنیاگر نغمه پرداز را

ز خلوتسرا سوی جمع آورند
که از صوتشان جمع جان پرورند

چو رازی مقالات ایشان شنید
سر خجلت اندر گریبان کشید

بدو مرزبان گفت حال تو چیست
وز این خوش نوایان ملال تو چیست

تعلل بسی کرد و زان تاب و پیچ
ندادش خلاصی به جز راست هیچ

چو شد مرزبان آگه از سر کار
برآورد غیرت ز جانش دمار

غلام سیه را سوی خویش خواند
وز آن قصه با وی سخن باز راند

بر آن جمله وی هم گواهی بداد
به کف تیغ رو جانب زن نهاد

که ای خیره سر این چه دل تیرگیست
که بر تیره گیت این همه چیرگیست

من اینجا تمنای هر کس که چه
به بستان گل آویزش خس که چه

به دامن زدش دست کای کامیاب
عنان ترحم ز حالم متاب

منه پا برون از ره عقل و هش
بپرس آنگه آزاد کن یا بکش

غلام تو را آرزوی محال
فتاد از من بی گنه در خیال

میسر ندید از لبم کام خویش
بگسترد در راه من دام خویش

کنون بسته پر مرغ دام ویم
گرفتار خشمت به کام ویم

مرا این دو طوطی که جان سوختند
ز وی حرف جانسوزی آموختند

درین حرفشان جز وی استاد نیست
جز این حرف خود هیچشان یاد نیست

بداند ازین خاطر هوشمند
که در کار من از وی افتاد بند

دل مرزبان ازین سخن نرم شد
دگرباره در مهر او گرم شد

به لب غیر شکرش نوایی نرفت
که بر وی ز تیغش خطایی نرفت

پی نکته دانان فرخ سرشت
به آب زر این طرفه پاسخ نوشت

که مجرم چو گردد سزای عقاب
خردمند را به درنگ از شتاب

بیا ساقیا رطل سنگین بیار
که سازد سبکسار را بردبار

به رخسار امید رنگ آورد
به عمر شتابان درنگ آورد

بیا مطربا بر نی انگشت نه
ز کارش به انگشت بگشا گره

ز تو هر گشادش که خواهد افتاد
نباشد جز آن کار ما را گشاد

English translation

There was a marzban (march-warden) in the region of Merv; He had a wife with cheeks like a rose and stature like a cypress. Among his troop of slaves there was a black one Who secretly cast glances toward that woman. Much turmoil and clamor passed between them So that he might unite with her, but it never came to pass. The ill-starred slave's love turned to spite; He girded his loins in pursuit of revenge. He bought two parrots from the bird market, Such birds as Solomon had never seen. By instruction he loosed the tongue of each, Teaching each a subtle phrase as a secret. One would say nothing upon its tongue but this: That the chamberlain had become the lover of the marzban's wife. The other would say, 'This matter is quite plain, But the telling of it is not my task.' When the birds grew skilled in this tune And became able to utter this point, He carried them to the marzban's private chamber And entrusted them to the veiled special lady. They had no tale but this single point, Yet the poor man did not perceive the harm. In pleasure he drank wine morning and evening, Glad of heart and content with that tune. Suddenly an elegant man among the nobles of Ray Became his guest in the meantime. He made merriment in hospitality, Brought wine and began to drink. When his brain grew warm from the fire of wine, His nature blazed up like a bright lamp. He ordered those two eloquent birds, Those two melody-making minstrels, To be brought from the private chamber to the gathering, So the company might refresh their souls with their song. When the man of Ray heard their utterances, He drew his head of shame into his collar. The marzban said to him, 'What is your condition, And what is your distress at these sweet singers?' He made many excuses, and out of that anguish and writhing Nothing gave him release but the truth. When the marzban became aware of the matter, Jealousy raised ruin from his soul. He called the black slave to himself And spoke with him about that story; And he too bore witness to all of it. With sword in hand he set out toward the woman, Saying, 'O reckless one, what darkness of heart is this, That your murk holds such dominion? What desire of anyone do I permit here? What business has trash to cling to the rose in the garden?' She seized his skirt, saying, 'O fortunate one, Do not turn the rein of mercy from my plight. Do not set your foot outside the path of reason and sense; Ask first, then set me free or slay me. Your slave conceived, in fancy, an impossible desire for me, though I am innocent. He could not attain his wish from my lips, So he spread his snare across my path. Now I am a bird with bound wings in his snare, Caught by your wrath, just to his liking. These two parrots, which have burned my soul, Learned this soul-scorching speech from him. In this speech they have no teacher but him; They know nothing at all but this one speech. Let your discerning mind understand from this That the trap in my affair came from him.' The marzban's heart softened at these words, And once more grew warm in love for her. No sound but thanks passed her lips, That no stroke of his sword had befallen her. For the subtle-minded of blessed nature He wrote this marvelous answer in liquid gold: That when a wrongdoer becomes deserving of punishment, The wise prefer deliberation to haste. Come, cupbearer, bring the heavy goblet That makes the frivolous man forbearing; It brings color to the cheek of hope And brings a pause to hurrying life. Come, minstrel, lay your finger upon the reed; Untie the knot of his affair with your finger. Whatever release comes to him from you, There is no release for our affair but that.

Updated 2026-07-20

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