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بخش ۱۰۹ - عقد سی و چهارم در سماع که از خود گذشتن است و آستین بر خلق افشاندن نه گرد خود گشتن و از خدای بازماندن / Section 109 - The Thirty-Fourth Knot on Sama' (Spiritual Audition), Which is Passing Beyond Oneself and Shaking One's Sleeve at Creation, Not Wandering Around Oneself and Being Held Back from God

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ای درین خوابگه بی خبران
بی خبر خفته چو کوران و کران

سر برآور که درین پرده سرای
می رسد بانگ سرود از همه جای

بلبل از منبر گل نغمه نواز
قمری از سرو سهی زمزمه ساز

فاخته چنبر دف کرده ز طوق
از نوا گشته جلاجل زن شوق

لحن قوال شده صومعه گیر
نه مرید از دم او جسته نه پیر

مطرب از مصطبه دردکشان
داده از منزل مقصود نشان

باد نی بر دل مستان صبوح
فتح کرده همه ابواب فتوح

عود خاموش ز یک مالش گوش
کودک آساست برآورده خروش

چنگ با عقل ره جنگ زده
راه صد دل به یک آهنگ زده

تایب کاسته شکسته ز شراب
به یکی کاسه شده مست رباب

پیر راهب شده ناقوس زنان
نوبتی مقرعه بر کوس زنان

بانگ برداشته مرغ سحری
کرده بر خفته دلان پرده دری

مؤذن از راحت شب دل کنده
کرده صد مرده به یا حی زنده

چرخ در گرد ازین بانگ و نوا
کوه در رقص ازین صوت و صدا

هرگز از جای نمی خیزی تو
الله الله چه گران چیزی تو

هیچ دانی چه گران باشد فیل
پشتش از پشته ارزیز ثقیل

زیر آن بار گران جان داده
پشته بر پشت ز پای افتاده

گر بسنجد خردش با تو به هم
یابدش از پشه بسیاری کم

ساعتی ترک گران جانی کن
شوق را سلسله جنبانی کن

بگسل از پای خود این لنگر گل
گام زن شو به سوی کشور دل

آستین بر سر عالم افشان
دامن از طینت آدم افشان

سنگ بر شیشه ناموس انداز
چاک در خرقه سالوس انداز

هر چه بند است بکش از وی پای
هر چه حشو است تهی کن زان جای

نغمه جان شنو از چنگ سماع
بجه از جسم به آهنگ سماع

همه ذرات جهان در رقصند
رو نهاده به کمال از نقصند

تو هم از نقص قدم نه به کمال
دامن افشان ز سر جاه و جلال

زین سرودند بهایم هایم
تو ازین گونه غنایم نایم

خواب بگذار که بی خوابی به
دیده را سرمه بیخوابی ده

حیف باشد که به آن جثه شتر
باشد از لذت این زمزمه پر

تو بدین دبدبه انسانی
زان صدا چون دبه خالی مانی

English translation

O you who in this sleeping-place of the unaware, Lie asleep, unaware, like the blind and the deaf! Raise your head, for in this curtained pavilion, The sound of song is coming from everywhere. The nightingale is singing melodies from the pulpit of the rose, The turtle-dove is whispering tunes from the upright cypress. The ring-dove has made a tambourine's frame of its collar, Playing the bells of yearning with its song. The singer's melody has gripped the monastery; Neither disciple nor elder has escaped his breath. The musician from the tavern-bench of the dreg-drinkers Has given directions to the destination of intent. May the breath of the flute upon the hearts of the morning-drunkards Open all the gates of spiritual victories! The silent lute, with a single tweaking of its ear, Has raised a cry like a child. The harp has set out to wage war against the intellect, Hijacking the path of a hundred hearts with a single melody. The penitent, worn out and broken by wine, Has become intoxicated by a single cup of the rebec. The Christian elder has begun ringing the bells, The watchman is beating the drum at his turn. The morning bird has raised its cry, Tearing the veil of the sleepy-hearted. The muezzin has torn his heart away from the night's comfort, Making a hundred dead souls alive with "O Ever-Living!" The celestial sphere is in rotation from this sound and song, The mountain is dancing from this voice and echo. Yet you never rise from your place; By God, by God, what a heavy thing you are! Do you know at all how heavy an elephant is? Its back weighted down with a load of lead, Giving up its life under that heavy burden, Falling to its knees with the load on its back. Yet if intellect weighs it against you, It finds it much lighter than a gnat compared to you! For an hour, abandon this heavy-heartedness; Set the chain of yearning in motion! Break this anchor of clay from your foot; Start walking toward the kingdom of the heart. Shake your sleeve at the head of the universe, Shake your skirt free from the clay of Adam. Throw a stone at the glass of reputation, Tear a rent in the cloak of hypocrisy! Pull your foot out from whatever is a shackle, Empty that place of whatever is superfluous. Hear the melody of the soul from the harp of Sama', Leap out of the body to the melody of Sama'. All the particles of the universe are in dance, Turning from deficiency toward perfection. You too, step out of deficiency toward perfection, Shaking your skirt free from prestige and majesty. Beasts are ecstatic from this song, While you are asleep to such spoils! Leave sleep behind, for sleeplessness is better; Anoint your eyes with the kohl of wakefulness. It is a pity that the camel, with that huge body, Should be filled with the pleasure of this melody, While you, with all this human pomp, Remain empty of that sound like an empty container!

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Updated 2026-07-19

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Humanities

Literature

Persian Literature Prerequisite Course

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