1Cademy - (۳) حکایت مأمون خلیفه با غلام / (3) The Tale of Caliph Mamun and the Slave

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Elahi Nameh

Poem

(۳) حکایت مأمون خلیفه با غلام / (3) The Tale of Caliph Mamun and the Slave

Original content

غلامی داشت مأمون خلیفه
کزو مهمل نماندی یک لطیفه

چو خورشیدی به نیکوئی جمالش
خلایق جمله مایل بر وصالش

خم زلفش که دام عنبرین داشت
همه هندوستان در زیر چین داشت

بلی گر زلف او در چین نبودی
نثارش نافهٔ مشکین نبودی

چه گویم ز ابروی همچون کمانش
که زاغی بود زلف دلستانش

ز عشق ثقبهٔ لعلش ز لولو
هزاران ثقبه در دل مانده هر سو

در آن ثقبه چرا و چون نگنجد
که از تنگی نفس بیرون نگنجد

ز دیری گه مگر می خواست مأمون
که آید آن غلام از پوست بیرون

که تا مأمون بداند کان پری چهر
قدم چون می زند با شاه در مهر

دلش در مهر مامونست یا نه
ز خط عهد بیرونست یا نه

بمعشوقی وفای عشق دارد
باستحقاق جای عشق دارد

مگر قومی دلی پر درد و پر سوز
به بغداد آمدند از بصره آن روز

کامیر المؤمنین ما را دهد داد
که ماراست از امیر بصره فریاد

نه چندان ظلم کرد و ما کشیدیم
که دیدیم از کسی یا ما شنیدیم

اگر نستانی از وی داد ما تو
مشوش گردی از فریاد ما تو

نهان آن قوم را فرمود مأمون
که خواهید این غلامم را هم اکنون

مگر او در پذیرد این امیری
کند زین پس شما را دستگیری

ز شه درخواستند آن قوم آنگاه
که ما را این غلامت گر بود شاه

همه از حکم او دلشاد گردیم
ز ظلم آن امیر آزاد گردیم

نگه کرد آن زمان سوی غلام او
که تا در عهد عشق آید تمام او

غلام سیمبر را گفت مأمون
درین منصب چه می گوئی تو اکنون

اگر مرکب سوی آن خطه رانی
خطی بنویسمت در پهلوانی

غلم آنجایگه می بود خاموش
دلش آمد ز شوق بصره در جوش

بدانست آن زمان مأمون که آن ماه
بغایت فارغست از عشق آن شاه

دل مأمون ازان دلبر بگردید
ز کار آن نگارش سر بگردید

ز عشق او پشیمانی برآورد
وز آن حاصل پریشانی برآورد

بدل می گفت عشق من غلط بود
چه دانستم که معشوقی سقط بود؟

به دست خویشتن در جای خالی
بعامل نامه ای بنوشت حالی

که چون آید غلام من بآنجا
خطی آرد بنام خود بر آنجا

چنان باید که کوی شهر و بازار
همه بصره بیارائی بیکبار

جلاب آرید و در وی زهر آنگاه
برو ریزید و برگیریدش از راه

منادی گر زهر سو برنشانید
که می گویند واسپش می دوانید

که هرکش بر ملک ملک اختیارست
سزای او بتر زین صد هزارست

چو حق از بهر خویشت آفریدست
برای قرب خویشت آوریدست

بنگذارد تو مرد بی خبر را
که باشی یک نفس چیزی دگر را

وگر بگذاردت کارت فتادست
که صاعی خفیه در بارت نهادست

چرا می آید این رفتن گرانت
که می گوید خداوند جهانت

که گر آئی به پیش من رونده
باستقبالت آیم من دونده

خدا می خواندت تو خفته آخر
چرا می پائی ای آشفته آخر

کم از اشتر نهٔ ای مرد درگاه
که بر بانگ درائی می رود راه

English translation

Caliph Mamun had a slave, Who missed not a single subtle nuance. His beauty was excellent like the sun, All creatures inclined to unite with him. The curl of his lock, which held an ambergris snare, Had all of India beneath its fold (Chin). Indeed, if his lock were not in Chin (fold/China), Its offering would not be the musky pod. What can I say of his bow-like eyebrow, His heart-ravishing tress was like a raven. From love of the piercing of his ruby lip by a pearl, Thousands of piercings remained in hearts everywhere. In that piercing, 'why' and 'how' do not fit, For from its narrowness, breath cannot emerge. For a long time, Mamun had been wishing, That the slave would come out of his skin (show his true self), So that Mamun might know how that fairy-faced one Paces with the king in love. Is his heart in love with Mamun or not? Is he outside the bounds of the covenant or not? Does he have the loyalty of love as a beloved? Does he rightfully deserve the place of love? It happened that a group with pained and burning hearts Came to Baghdad from Basra that day, Saying, 'O Commander of the Faithful, give us justice, For we cry out against the Emir of Basra. He has committed so much oppression that we have endured, Such as we have never seen or heard from anyone. If you do not exact our justice from him, You will be troubled by our cries.' Secretly, Mamun commanded that group: 'Ask for this slave of mine right now; Perhaps he will accept this emirate, And act as your protector from now on.' Then the group requested from the king, 'If this slave of yours becomes our king, We shall all be gladdened by his rule, And freed from the tyranny of that Emir.' At that moment, he looked toward his slave, To see if he would fully enter the covenant of love. Mamun said to the silver-bosomed slave, 'What do you say now regarding this position? If you ride your steed toward that territory, I will write you a decree of high command.' The slave remained silent there, But his heart boiled with longing for Basra. Mamun knew then that that moon-faced one Was entirely free from the king's love. Mamun's heart turned away from that beloved, He turned his head away from the affair of that beauty. He brought forth regret from his love for him, And reaped distress from that outcome. He said in his heart, 'My love was a mistake, How was I to know that the beloved was worthless?' With his own hand, in a secluded place, He immediately wrote a letter to his agent: 'When my slave arrives there, Bringing a decree in his own name there, It must be that you decorate the streets of the city and the bazaar, All of Basra at once. Bring a sweet drink, and in it put poison then; Pour it for him and remove him from the path. Place heralds on every side, Who will proclaim while galloping their horses: 'Whoever chooses a kingdom over the King, His punishment is a hundred thousand times worse than this!'' Since the Truth (God) has created you for Himself, And brought you for His own proximity, He will not let you, O unaware man, Belong to something else for even a breath. And if He does let you, your affair is ruined, For He has secretly placed a measuring cup in your baggage. Why does this departure seem heavy to you? When the Lord of your world says: 'If you come walking toward Me, I will come running to welcome you.' God is calling you, yet you are asleep in the end, Why do you linger, O confused one, in the end? You are not less than a camel, O man of the court, Who steps upon the path at the sound of the bell.

Updated 2026-07-03

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