1Cademy - بخش ۱۰ - حکایت آن از قافله حاجیان دور افتاده با آن پیر زال در بادیه قناعت بر قدم توکل ایستاده / Section 10 - The Tale of the One Who Fell Far from the Caravan of Pilgrims, Standing with That Aged Woman in the Desert of Contentment upon the Foot of Trust in God

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۱۰ - حکایت آن از قافله حاجیان دور افتاده با آن پیر زال در بادیه قناعت بر قدم توکل ایستاده / Section 10 - The Tale of the One Who Fell Far from the Caravan of Pilgrims, Standing with That Aged Woman in the Desert of Contentment upon the Foot of Trust in God

Original content

یکی کعبه رو گم شد از قافله
نه همراه او زاد نی راحله

پی طعمه هر چند همت گماشت
نیامد به چشمش گه شام و چاشت

ز زنگار گون گرد خوان سپهر
به جز گرده ماه یا قرص مهر

ندید از نم چشمه سار سراب
به جز کاسه چشم حسرت پر آب

همی گشت چون باد در گرد و خاک
به هر دشت و وادی به صد ترس و باک

سیه خانه ای دید ناگه ز دور
خوش آینده چون خال بر روی حور

منور شدش چشم ها زان سواد
خضروار رو در سیاهی نهاد

زنی یافت چون نافه اش پوست خشک
بر او گشته کافور موی چو مشک

به فرقش ز عز قناعت قناع
ز فرمان حرصش سر امتناع

بدو گفت کای مادر مهربان
که باشد ز وصف تو قاصر زبان

ز بی قوتیم تنگ گشته نفس
به یک خشک نانم به فریاد رس

بگفتا که دارم من از نان فراغ
نخورده درین دشت نان جز کلاغ

بود فارغ از فکر نان خاطرم
اگر دارمش آرزو کافرم

دمی باش کز مار یا سوسمار
کنم ماهیی ریگ پرور شکار

نه تابه ست بر آتش اینجا نه دیگ
کنم پخته از تف تفسیده ریگ

نشست از سر پای آن رهنورد
به حکم ضرورت ازان طعمه خورد

چو شد سیر ازان شوره خورده کباب
بجنبید در طبع او میل آب

نشان داد یک چشمه آبش ز دور
چو اشک ستمدیدگان تلخ و شور

بدو گفت ازان چشمه چون بازگشت
که ای بانوی بر و خاتون دشت

چرا رو نیاری به ده یا به شهر
که گیری ز هر نعمت و ناز بهر

بگفتا که هر جای شهر و ده است
یکی سفله بر خلق فرمانده است

قناعت نمودن به ناکام و کام
بدین ناگوار آب و ناخوش طعام

ازان به که بهر شکم بخردی
بود زیر فرمان همچون خودی

بیا ساقی و زان می دلپسند
که گردد ازو سفله همت بلند

فرو ریز یک جرعه در جام من
که دولت زند قرعه بر نام من

بیا مطرب و زان نو آیین سرود
که بر روی کار آرد آبم ز رود

درین کاخ زنگاری افکن خروش
فرو بند از کوس شاهیم گوش

English translation

A pilgrim bound for the Kaaba was lost from the caravan, with him neither provisions nor a riding-mount. However much he set his effort to seek food, nothing came to his eye at the hour of supper or of morning meal. From the verdigris-hued round table of the sky he saw nothing but the loaf of the moon or the disk of the sun; of moisture from the springs he saw nothing but mirage, nothing but the bowl of his eye brimming with tears of longing. He wandered like the wind amid dust and dirt, through every plain and valley with a hundred fears and dreads. Suddenly he saw a black tent from afar, pleasingly appearing like a beauty-mark on a houri's face. His eyes were lit up by that blackness, and like Khizr he set his face into the darkness. He found a woman, her skin dry like a musk-pod, her musk-dark hair turned to camphor. Upon her head, from the honor of contentment, a veil; her head refusing the command of greed. He said to her: O kind mother, whose worth the tongue falls short to describe, from weakness my breath has grown constricted— come to my aid with a single piece of dry bread. She said: I am free of any bread; none has eaten bread in this desert but the crow. My mind is at ease from the thought of bread; if I were to crave it, I would be an infidel. Wait a moment, for from a snake or a lizard I will hunt a sand-reared fish. Here there is neither pan upon the fire nor pot; I will cook it from the heat of the burning sand. That wayfarer sat down from his standing, and out of necessity ate of that food. When he was sated from that salt-fed roast, the desire for water stirred in his nature. She pointed him to a spring of water afar, bitter and salty like the tears of the oppressed. When he returned from that spring he said to her: O lady of the land, mistress of the desert, why do you not turn toward a village or a city, to take your share of every bounty and comfort? She said: wherever there is a city or a village, some base wretch is set in command over the people. To practice contentment in failure and in success, with this unpalatable water and unpleasant food, is better than that, for the belly's sake, one should be under the command of one like oneself. Come, cupbearer, and of that heart-pleasing wine by which the base-spirited becomes lofty in aspiration, pour a single draught into my cup, that fortune may cast its lot upon my name. Come, minstrel, and with that newly-fashioned song that brings my honor to the surface from the lute, cast a clamor into this verdigris palace, and close my ears to the drum of kingship.

Updated 2026-07-20

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