1Cademy - بخش ۱۶ - عقد سیم در کلام منظوم که ان من الشعر لحکمة عبارتیست از حکمت آمیزی او و ان من البیان لسحرا اشارتیست به سحرانگیزی او / Section 16 - The Third Knot, on Poetic Speech, Wherein Indeed, Some Poetry is Wisdom Expresses Its Wisdom-Infused Nature, and Indeed, Some Eloquence is Magic Alludes to Its Enchanting Character

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Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۱۶ - عقد سیم در کلام منظوم که ان من الشعر لحکمة عبارتیست از حکمت آمیزی او و ان من البیان لسحرا اشارتیست به سحرانگیزی او / Section 16 - The Third Knot, on Poetic Speech, Wherein 'Indeed, Some Poetry is Wisdom' Expresses Its Wisdom-Infused Nature, and 'Indeed, Some Eloquence is Magic' Alludes to Its Enchanting Character

Original content

ای به هر شاهد موزون مفتون
حالت از مشک خطان دیگرگون

هیچ شاهد چو سخن موزون نیست
سر خوبی ز خطش بیرون نیست

صبر ازو صعب و تسلی مشکل
خاصه وقتی که پی بردن دل

کشد از وزن به بر خلعت ناز
کند از قافیه دامانش طراز

پا به خلخال ردیف آراید
بر جبین خال خیال افزاید

رخ ز تشبیه دهد جلوه ما
ببرد عقل صد افتاده ز راه

مو به تجنیس ز هم بشکافد
خالی از فرق دو گیسو بافد

لب ز ترصیع گهر ریز کند
جعد مشکین گهرآویز کند

چشم از ابهام کند چشمک زن
فتنه در انجمن وهم فکن

بر سر چهره نهد زلف مجاز
شود از پرده حقیقت پرداز

چو بدین شکل به صد غنج و دلال
رو نماید ز شبستان مقال

گوش را حامله در سازد
صدف آسا ز گهر پر سازد

چشم را خرمن عنبر بخشد
به طبق غالیه تر بخشد

گه به تحمید شود نغمه سرای
گه ز توحید شود عقده گشای

گاه در صومعه خوشحالان
نکته گوید به لب قوالان

صوفی جان و جهان کرده وداع
گیرد از نکته او راه سماع

گاه دمساز شود با نی و چنگ
در خرابات برآرد آهنگ

مطرب مجلس مستان گردد
رهزن باده پرستان گردد

گاه غمنامه عاشق خواند
پیش معشوق موافق خواند

بر دلش تازه کند عهد قدیم
سازدش در حرم لطف مقیم

گه کند پرده معشوقی ساز
دهد از پرده معشوق آواز

پرده عاشق بیدل بدرد
پرده سان بر در معشوق برد

ما که از سحر سحر سازی او
وز شب شعبده پردازی او

غرق دریای تفکر شده ایم
تک نشین چون صدف در شده ایم

قوت جان قوت دل زو یابیم
گل درین مرکز گل زو یابیم

کحل دولت ز در او جوییم
نیست عیب از هنر او گوییم

گرچه بر بی هنران پرده در است
چشم بد دور که یکسر هنر است

ورچه جوینده هر نایابی
نکشد لب ز چنین جلابی

آن پر از جوهر قرآن مشتش
زان نیالوده به آن انگشتش

تا نه خلقی به گمان درمانند
کین دو گوهر مگر از یک کانند

بسمله تاج سر قرآن است
زانکه سنجیده بدین میزان است

وزن اگر موجب نقصان بودی
حرف موزون نه ز قرآن بودی

گر شکستی نشد از شعر درست
آن نه از وزن ز بی وزنی توست

چند باشی به زبان بیهده سنج
کشی از دست زبان بیهده رنج

شعر آبیست ز سرچشمه دل
سر چشمه شده آلوده به گل

گر نه سرچشمه ز گل پاک شود
چه عجب ز آب که گلناک شود

بایدت در سخن آسودگیی
پاک کن دل ز هر آلودگیی

تا درین مرحله مشغله ناک
پاک خیزد گهرت از دل پاک

پاکبازان همه خاک تو شوند
خازن گوهر پاک تو شوند

قدسیان طوف دیار تو کنند
تحفه نور نثار تو کنند

English translation

O you who are infatuated by every measured beauty, Whose state is made distraught by those with musk-black lines of down on their cheeks, No beauty is as harmonious as speech; The secret of beauty is not outside of its lines. Patience from it is difficult and solace is hard, Especially when, in order to steal the heart, It draws the robe of coquetry over its breast through meter, And adorns its hem with rhyme. It adorns its feet with the anklet of refrain (radif), And adds the mole of imagination on its brow. It illuminates its face with simile, And robs the intellect of a hundred who have strayed from the path. It splits hairs with punning/homonymy (tajnis), And weaves two locks of hair without a parting. It scatters pearls from its lips with symmetry/jeweled-setting (tarsi'), And hangs gems from its musk-black curls. It winks with the eye of ambiguity (ibham), Casting discord into the assembly of imagination. It places the tress of metaphor (majaz) over its face, And from behind the veil, it portrays ultimate truth. When in this guise, with a hundred coquettish charms and graces, It reveals its face from the bedchamber of utterance, It makes the ear pregnant, And like an oyster, fills it with pearls. It grants a harvest of ambergris to the eye, And offers fresh perfume upon a tray. Sometimes it sings melodies in praise of God, Sometimes it unties knots through the declaration of Divine Unity. Sometimes, in the monastery of the light-hearted, It utters subtle points through the lips of the singers (qawwals). The Sufi, having bid farewell to soul and world, Finds his way to spiritual hearing (sama') through its subtle points. Sometimes it harmonizes with the reed-flute and the harp, And raises its melody in the ruins/taverns. It becomes the minstrel for the assembly of the drunk, And the highwayman of wine-worshippers. Sometimes it recites the lover's book of sorrow, And reads it before the sympathetic beloved. It renews the ancient covenant in their heart, And makes them dwell in the sanctuary of grace. Sometimes it tunes the melody of the beloved, And sings from the veil of the beloved. It tears the veil of the heartless lover, And draws them like a curtain to the door of the beloved. We, who by the dawn-magic of its wizardry, And by its night-time conjuring tricks, Have been drowned in the ocean of contemplation, And have settled at the bottom like a pearl-containing oyster, We find the nourishment of soul and heart from it, And we find the rose in this center of clay (the earth) through it. We seek the kohl of fortune from its door, It is no fault if we speak of its art. Though it tears the veil of the talentless, May the evil eye be far, for it is entirely art. And though the seeker of every rare thing Would not withdraw their lips from such a sweet syrup, He whose fist is full of the gems of the Quran Did not stain his finger with poetry for that reason, Lest people remain in doubt, Thinking that these two gems are from the same mine. The Basmala is the crown of the head of the Quran, Because it is measured by this very balance/meter. If meter/weight were a cause of deficiency, A measured word would not have been in the Quran. If a fracture was not cured by poetry, That is not due to the meter; it is due to your own lack of balance. How long will you weigh vanity with your tongue, And suffer futile pain at the hand of your tongue? Poetry is water from the spring of the heart, But the spring has become polluted with mud. If the spring is not cleansed of mud, What wonder if the water becomes muddy? If you desire tranquility in speech, Cleanse your heart from every pollution, So that in this clamorous stage, Your pearl may arise pure from a pure heart. All those who play pure will become your dust, And become the treasurers of your pure gem. The holy angels will circumambulate your land, And scatter gifts of light upon you.

Updated 2026-07-19

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