1Cademy - دفتر سوم - بخش ۱۷۸ - قصه وکیل صدر جهان کی متهم شد و از بخارا گریخت از بیم جان باز عشقش کشید رو کشان کی کار جان سهل باشد عاشقان را / Book Three - Section 178 - The Tale of the Deputy of Sadr-i Jahan Who Was Accused and Fled from Bukhara in Fear for His Life, Yet His Love Dragged Him Back, For the Matter of Life is Easy to Lovers

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مثنوی معنوی: دفتر سوم / Masnavi: Book Three
دفتر سوم - بخش ۱۷۷ - مسلهٔ فنا و بقای درویش / Book Three - Section 177 - The Issue of the Annihilation and Subsistence of the Dervish

Poem

دفتر سوم - بخش ۱۷۸ - قصه وکیل صدر جهان کی متهم شد و از بخارا گریخت از بیم جان باز عشقش کشید رو کشان کی کار جان سهل باشد عاشقان را / Book Three - Section 178 - The Tale of the Deputy of Sadr-i Jahan Who Was Accused and Fled from Bukhara in Fear for His Life, Yet His Love Dragged Him Back, For the Matter of Life is Easy to Lovers

Original content

در بخارا بندهٔ صدر جهان
متهم شد گشت از صدرش نهان

مدت ده سال سرگردان بگشت
گه خراسان گه کهستان گاه دشت

از پس ده سال او از اشتیاق
گشت بی طاقت ز ایام فراق

گفت تاب فرقتم زین پس نماند
صبر کی داند خلاعت را نشاند

از فراق این خاکها شوره بود
آب زرد و گنده و تیره شود

باد جان افزا وخم گردد وبا
آتشی خاکستری گردد هبا

باغ چون جنت شود دار المرض
زرد و ریزان برگ او اندر حرض

عقل دراک از فراق دوستان
همچو تیرانداز اشکسته کمان

دوزخ از فرقت چنان سوزان شدست
پیر از فرقت چنان لرزان شدست

گر بگویم از فراق چون شرار
تا قیامت یک بود از صد هزار

پس ز شرح سوز او کم زن نفس
رب سلم رب سلم گوی و بس

هرچه از وی شاد گردی در جهان
از فراق او بیندیش آن زمان

زانچه گشتی شاد بس کس شاد شد
آخر از وی جست و همچون باد شد

از تو هم بجهد تو دل بر وی منه
پیش از آن کو بجهد از وی تو بجه

English translation

In Bukhara, the servant of the Sadr-i Jahan Was accused and concealed himself from his master. For ten years he wandered in bewilderment, Now in Khurasan, now in the mountains, now in the plains. After ten years, from longing, He became unable to bear the days of separation. He said: "The endurance of parting remains in me no more; How can patience ever settle this burning restlessness?" From separation, these earths become saline, Water turns yellow, putrid, and dark. The life-giving breeze turns foul and pestilent, A fire becomes nothing but ash and scattered dust. A garden like paradise becomes a house of disease, Its leaves yellowing and falling in anguish. The perceptive intellect, through separation from friends, Is like an archer with a broken bow. Hell has been made so burning from separation; The elder has been made so trembling from separation. If I were to speak of separation like sparks, Until Resurrection Day, one would be one in a hundred thousand. So breathe fewer words in describing its burning; Say "Lord, grant peace; Lord, grant peace" and nothing more. Whatever in this world makes you glad, Think at that moment of separation from it. From what made you glad, many others too were glad, And in the end they fled from it and became like wind. It will flee from you too — do not set your heart upon it; Before it leaps away from you, leap away from it yourself.

Updated 2026-06-30

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