Masnavi

222. Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni and His ServantMasnavi

English
I have heard of Mahmud, the fortunate one, who held both crown and throne in this world. Not only Ghazni lay beneath his ring; he was sultan of the whole face of the earth. He had a servant among his favorites, named Ayaz, and all the favorites were Ayaz's servants. A servant in his youth and full of charm, a stranger's longing, a love made familiar. Not only was the sultan his slave; many a sultan he had cast down into the dust. The sultan's heart leaned toward loving him, for it is the heart, and the heart cannot be controlled. He had a hundred excuses for everything, none of which arose unless Ayaz was in the picture. He spoke of nothing but that sweet fountainhead, and would listen to no one else. Sometimes he praised his cheek, sometimes his face: how blessed, like a shining star. Sometimes his ruby lips, that wine-cup lip, sometimes his ear and the pearl beside it. Sometimes his locks like purest musk, sometimes his eyes, those half-sleeping eyes. In short, that secret spread through the city; it set fire to the heart he had kept hidden. All the favorites learned of it, and out of envy poured tears from their eyes. From this jealousy they tore their collars; from this grief they made the dust their home. Saying: We too are servants of the king's court, all of us long-loyal well-wishers of the king. What has happened, that the king now wrongs us and casts aside the rights of our old service? How long will the sultan treat us like this, now in anger with us, now in spite? It would be best that one of us, alert, speak so the king takes his words to heart; so that, little by little, he might question the sultan about this love for that fourteen-day moon. One of the favorites, his heart broken, girded himself to perform this task. First he offered the sultan a prayer, a prayer mingled with complaint. May fortune favor your path and heaven aid you; may your hand hold now the sword, now the wine-cup. May your soul be safe from the cruelty of time, and your heart be kind to those beneath you. Having prayed for the king with these words, he kissed the ground and stated his case. O king, you have a great name in the world; what do you want with love for a mere servant? Where does a servant have such worth and standing to be fit for a king like you? Often I see you heedless of yourself; why does your heart not grieve for your fortune? A wise man cast an omen last night; it seems your star carries some misfortune. Nothing but Ayaz's name is on your tongue; talk of what truly matters is nowhere to be found. Alas, the king's fortune has fallen asleep, as if the whole world had been swept away by a flood. Alas, how long will the sultan's fortune lie sleeping? How long will his mind be troubled by this sorrow? When the sultan heard this message from him, and heard such a message every evening, he wept a great deal and kept saying, smiling through his tears, and kept saying: Alas, our affair has fallen to the heart; the matter rests with the heart, and so it is hard. Mahmud's heart is in Ayaz's hand, for the heart's work is all helplessness and pleading. Do not ask how my heart fares, for if you probe it, it is a sea of blood. I do not know what this state of my heart is: it grieves even in the very moment of union. My heart, alas, has burned at my hard plight; no fire is visible, yet my heart has burned. Tell me, how long will you keep me ruined, O heart? How long will you keep me bound to anguish? My nights are dark and I have no sleep; my lips are thirsty and I have no water. My heart has turned to blood, have mercy, it is time; on my hard plight have mercy, it is time. But my love for that idol is not mere desire, for I know what the end of desire is. Nothing but pure love is my aim; may my eyes never be turned away from his face. It seems my very clay is made from his dust; may my heart never be empty of his memory. Be careful not to count me lustful, for my hand is as pure as his hem. But since his love sheds its light, this secret will become clear even to the slanderers: that it was not the wind of his beauty that made me drunk; my heart was lost by the way he walks. You have no luster in your own nature, so you imagine I am telling a lie. When the king's soul had melted with this sorrow, one day he pitched his tent, bound for the plain. Hunting for pleasure and for a roam, they went from plain to plain. They all took to the edge of the wilderness, growing drunk and exhilarated with wine. One of the close companions said: A caravan is coming into my view. The king told his servants to hurry and inquire about the caravan's affairs: what is their purpose in this coming and going? What gain do they seek in crossing this land? After they went and returned one by one, they conferred with the other favorites. They told the king: These are merchants, busy thinking of profit and loss. They told us what was needful; we do not think they hid any secret. We took in what we needed to hear, but, alas, it has slipped from our memory. Then the sultan said: O clever ones, you who are old companions of the king, you all drew the sword of your tongues against me; what shall I say of what you said and heard? Find out whether Ayaz is here or not, whether he has gone hunting toward the desert or not. They told him: He is present here, attentive and ready to serve. He said: Then let Ayaz, the keen and subtle one, Ayaz, the keen one of fine speech, go and ask the caravan about their state, ask about the affairs of these fortunate travelers. Speak of what needs to be spoken, and inquire into what needs to be inquired. Wise Ayaz, overjoyed, kissed the ground and set off toward the caravan. When he arrived they showed him honor and led him to the leader of the caravan. He gave good tidings to the caravan-master and showed kindness to the other travelers. He asked about their beginning and their end, first: Are you from Egypt or from Syria? What do you pursue, and with whom do you deal? What do you seek, and what court do you serve? When you load your camels from this land, which city will you make your destination? They told him: We are from the land of China, from the city of China and that territory. Our wares are not goods worthy enough to suit the taste of kings. We have no knowledge of Egypt or Syria; our wares are nothing but empty hands. If we should come to rest from this journey, none but God knows what the outcome will be. When we depart from this land, God knows where we will set down our packs. In short, he asked all that needed asking, inquired about beginning and end. When the caravan moved on and he returned glad, what had been ruined came back restored. He said all that was to be said; he pierced every pearl that was to be pierced. Then the king took him in his arms and gave him a thousand kisses on his sweet lips. He told him: May your ill-wisher be put to shame; if you shed my blood, it is lawful and forgiven. Ayaz, the king whose servant I am: how I wish my name might rise through his love, so that from now on, when they tell tales of me, they count me among the lovers.
Explanation: A 'fourteen-day moon' means a full moon, an image for a flawless, radiant beauty. The pearl-piercing line is a classic Persian metaphor for performing a delicate task with perfect skill.

Original

قصه سلطان محمود غزنوی با غلامش

شنیدم من که محمود جوانبخت که بودش در جهان هم تاج و هم تخت نه غزنینش همی زیر نگین بود که سلطان همه روی زمین بود غلامی داشت از خاصان و نامش ایاز و جمله خاصان غلامش غلامی بر جوانی دلربائی هوس بیگانه ای عشق آشنائی نه تنها بود سلطان بنده او بسا سلطان بخاک افکنده او دل سلطان بعشقش گشت مایل دلست این و نیفتد کار با دل بهر کاریش بودی صد بهانه نبودی تا ایازش در میانه سخن جزو صف آن سرچشمه نوش نگفتی و نکردی از کسی گوش گهی از عارضش گفتی گه از رخ زهی چون اختر تابنده فرخ گهی از لعل و آن لعل قدح نوش گهی از گوش و آن در بناگوش گهی از طره چون مشگ نابش گهی از چشم و چشم نیمخوابش غرض در شهر شد آن راز گفته علم زد آتش در دل نهفته همه خاصان شدند آگاه واز رشگ فرو می ریختند از دیده ها اشگ ازین غیرت گریبان چاک کردند وزین حسرت نشیمن خاک کردند که ما هم بنده درگاه شاهیم همه دیرینه دولتخواه شاهیم چه شد آخر که شه با ما جفا کرد حقوق خدمت دیرین رها کرد بما تا چند سلطان اینچنین است که گه با ما بخشم و گه بکین است همان بهتر که از ما هوشیاری که گیرد شاه از حرفش شماری ز کار عشق آن ماه دو هفته ز سلطان باز پرسد رفته رفته ز خاصانش یکی دلداده از دست پی تقدیم این خدمت کمر بست نخستین کرد سلطان را دعائی دعای با تظلم آشنائی براهت بخت یار و چرخ یاور بدستت گاه تیغ و گاه ساغر ز جور دهر جانت در امان باد دلت بازیردستان مهربان باد باین گفتار چون شر را دعا کرد زمین بوسید و عرض مدعا کرد که شاها در جهانت هست نامی چه می خواهی تو از عشق غلامی غلامی را کجا آن قدر و مقدار که باشد چون تو شاهی را سزاوار بسا می بینمت از خویش غافل نمی سوزد چرا بر دولتت دل خردمندی زدی دوشینه فالی همانا اخترت دارد وبالی بجز حرف ایازت بر زبان نیست سخن از آنچه باید در میان نیست دریغا بخت شه را خواب برده ست که پنداری جهان را آب برده ست دریغا بخت سلطان خفته تا چند ازین غم خاطرش آشفته تا چند ازو سلطان چو این پیغام بشنید چو این پیغام را هر شام بشنید بسی گردید گریان و همی گفت میان گریه خندان و همی گفت دریغا کار ما را با دل افتاد بدل افتاد کار و مشکل افتاد دل محمود در دست ایازست که کار دل همه عجز و نیازست مبادا از دلم پرسی که چونست که چون کاوش کنی دریای خونست نمی دانم دلم را این چه حالست که غمناکست و در عین وصالست دلم دردا بحال مشکلم سوخت که آتش نیست پیدا و دلم سوخت بگو تا کی خرابم داری ای دل قرین اضطرابم داری ای دل شبانم تیره و خواب مرا نه لبانم تشنه وآبی مرا نه بخون گشته دلم رحمی که وقتست بکار مشکلم رحمی، که وقتست ولی با آن صنم عشقم هوس نیست که می دانم هوس را عاقبت چیست بغیر از عشق پاکم نیست منظور که چشم من مباد از روی او دور ز خاک اوست پنداری گل من مبادا خالی از یادش دل من مرا زنهار نشماری هوسناک که دست ماست چون دامان او پاک بود اما چو مهرش پرتوافکن بغمازان شود این راز روشن که نه از بادحسنش شدم مست دلم رفت از خرامیدنش از دست شما را نیست در گوهر فروغی که پندارید می گویم دروغی چو شه را جان ازین اندوه بگداخت بعزم دشت روزی خیمه افراخت شکار افکن پی سیری و گشتی همی رفتند از دشتی بدشتی همه چون دامن صحرا گرفتند بمستی نشئه از صهبا گرفتند ز نزدیکان شد گفتا جوانی که می آید به چشمم کاروانی بگفتا شه غلامان را که پویند ز حال کاروانی باز جویند کزین آمد شدن، مقصودشان چیست ازین منزل بریدن سودشان چیست پس از رفتن چو یک یک بازگشتند بخاصان دگر دمساز گشتند بشه گفتند ایشان کاروانند که در اندیشه سود وزیانند بما از آنچه باید باز گفتند نپنداریم رازی را نهفتند گرفتیم آنچه می بایست در گوش دریغا گشت از خاطر فراموش پس آنگه گفت سلطان کای ظریفان که با شاهید دیرینه حریفان همه تیغ زبان بر من کشیدید چگویم زانچه گفتید و شنیدید خبر گیرید ایاز اینجاست یا نه شکار افکن سوی صحراست یا نه بگفتندش که اینجا حاضرست او پی خدمتگزاری ناظرست او بگفتا پس ایاز نکته دان را ایاز نکته دان خوش بیان را که رو تا کاروان و حالشان پرس زکار و بار نیکوفالشان پرس بگو از آنچه باید گفت و گو کرد بجو از آنچه باید جستجو کرد ایاز کاردان بس شادمان شد زمین بوسید و سوی کاروان شد چو شد آنجا با کرامش فزودند به میر کاروانش ره نمودند بشارت داد میرکاروان را نوازش کرد دیگر رهروان را خبر پرسید از آغاز و انجام نخستین آنکه از مصرید یا شام چه می پوئید و با که کار دارید چه می جوئید و چه دربار دارید چو از این سرزمین بندید محمل کدامین شهر را سازید منزل بگفتندش که ما از شهر چینیم زشهر چین و از آن سرزمینیم متاع ما متاعی نیست لایق که باشد طبع شاهان را موافق زمصر و شام ما را آگهی نیست متاع ما بجز دست تهی نیست ازین جنبش اگر گیریم آرام بجز ایزد که می داند سرانجام چو از این سرزمین رحلت نمائیم خدا داند کجا محمل گشائیم غرض از آنچه باید باز پرسید خبر زآغاز و از انجام پرسید چو شد کاروان و شاد برگشت خرابی رفته بود آباد برگشت بگفتی آنچه باشد گفتنی بود بسفتی هر گهر کو سفتنی بود پس آنگه شه در آوردش در آغوش هزارش بوسه دادی بر لب نوش بگفت او را که بدخواهت خجل باد تو گر خون مرا ریزی بحل باد ایاز، آن خسروی کش من غلامم به عشق او برآید کاش نامم کزین پس چون زمن دستان نگارند یکی از عشقبازانم شمارند

223. Song for the CupbearerMasnavi

English
Come, cupbearer, my heart is unsettled because of you; in this tavern, every word spoken is yours. Give me a cup, for I am in a wretched state; my grieving heart is in torment. Healer, now that your youth has slipped away, the days of pleasure and delight are gone. Now think, the time has come, the time has come; take up silence, the time has come, the time has come. Go to the corner of solitude with a glad heart, for the corner of solitude is a charming place. So many gatherings, so many feasts you have seen; so often you drank from the cup of revelry. Step aside, for your arrow has flown from the bow; don't sit ashamed because your quarry escaped your hands. Flee from the fist of a few ignorant fools; and give your hand to a few who are idle and unhurried. For perhaps in the end your wish will be fulfilled, and your name will rise among the accomplished. How long will your heart be troubled by loneliness? Your friends have gone, and you still sleep, how long? Don't sleep in this valley; rise up; draw a drink of water from this spring and rise. If you circle the horizons like a star, you will reach the top of this blue dome of sky. Behind the veil there is no path for searching; not all secrets are granted leave to be spoken. Your hidden secrets may be unraveled if you rise up from this heap of ash. O Lord, grant this ashamed 'Tabib,' this captive of the clay-and-water world, freedom from this prison of grief; on this ruined road, grant him a flourishing. I am like a tulip set down in the open plain, fallen in the dust and sitting in blood. Like Majnun, locked in struggle with my own fate, sunk to the waist like a mountain in stone. In this wilderness of sorrow I see no companion who has risen with me but the mountain. Yet even it, what does it know of companionship? What does mere stone know of the way of friendship?
Explanation: 'Tabib' (the Healer) appears to be the poet's pen name, used here as the self addressed in the poem. The tulip in the plain is a classic Persian image of solitary grief, its red petals suggesting a heart soaked in blood.

Original

ساقی نامه

بیا ساقی دلم آشفته تست درین میخانه گفته گفته تست بده جامی که بس حالم خرابست دل اندوهناکم در عذابست طبیبا چون ترا طی شد جوانی گذشت ایام عیش وکامرانی کنون اندیشه کن وقتست وقتست خموشی پیشه کن وقتست وقتست بکنج بی کسی رو با دل خوش که کنج بی کسی جائیست دلکش بسا محفل بسا مجلس که دیدی بسا کز جام عشرت می کشیدی کناری رو چو تیرت از کمان جست خجل منشین شکارت چون شد از دست گریزان شو زمشت جاهلی چند بده دستی بدست کاهلی چند که شاید عاقبت کامت برآید میان کاملان نامت برآید زتنهائی دلت آشفته تا کی رفیقان رفته و تو خفته تا کی درین وادی مکن خوابی و برخیز ازین چشمه بکش آبی و برخیز اگر گردی چو اختر گرد آفاق شوی تا بر سر این نیلوفری طاق درون پرده راه جستجو نیست همه اسرار و اذن گفتگو نیست بود اسرار پنهانت شود حل برآئی چون برین خاکستری تل خداوندا «طبیب » منفعل را اسیر خاکدان آب و گل را از این زندان غم آزادیش بخش درین ویران ره آبادیش بخش منم چون لاله در هامون نشسته بخاک افتاده و در خون نشسته به بخت خود چو مجنون مانده در جنگ نشسته تا کمر چون کوه در سنگ نمی بینم درین صحرای اندوه هم آوازی که با ما خاست جز کوه ولی او هم هم آوازی چه داند جمادی رسم دمسازی چه داند