13/07/2025
(Rumi, Diwan, ghazal 1828)
Once again, the Beloved pulls my reins like camels,
His job is killing the lovers; mine is to bear the load.
باز نِگار میکَشَد چون شُتُرانْ مِهارِ من
یارکُشیست کارِ او بارکَشیست کارِ من
He placed me ahead of the caravan and now draws forth,
those intoxicated camels all within my caravan.
پیش روِ قِطارها کرد مرا و میکَشَد
آن شُترانِ مَست را جُمله دَرین قِطارِ من
I am His intoxicated camel, I am her thorn-lover.
At times He pulls my reins; at times He rides upon me.
اُشتُرِ مَستِ او مَنَم خارپَرَستِ او مَنَم
گاه کَشَد مِهارِ من گاه شود سَوارِ من
The love-mad camel becomes intoxicated and ruins all in its path,
Yet no camel knows the delight of my chewing.
اُشُترِ مَستْ کَف کُند هر چه بُوَد تَلَف کُند
لیک نداند اُشتُری لَذَّتِ نوشْخوارِ من
Truly, when my foam of love rises and meets His,
The moment they touch, the steam of my soul begins to boil.
راست چو کَف بَرآوَرَم بر کَفِ او کَف اَفْکَنم
کَف چو به کَفِّ او رَسَد جوش کُند بُخارِ من
I work like the lowliest, I carry loads like camels,
Yet look whose load I carry; see the honor of my burden.
کار کُنم چو کِهْتران بار کَشَم چو اُشْتُران
بارِ کِه میکَشَم بِبین عِزَّتِ کار و بارِ من
When His narcissus eyes break their drunken stupor with my blood,
His patience and rest steal away my patience and rest.
نرگسِ او زِ خونِ من چون شِکَنَد خُمارِ خود
صبر و قَرارِ او بَرَد صبرِ من و قَرارِ من
The vision of His Face has become the qibla of my eyes’ light,
And His golden-like words, the loops of my earrings.
گشته خیالِ رویِ او قبلۀ نورِ چَشمِ من
وان سُخنانِ چون زَرَش حَلْقۀ گوشوارِ من
Tell the garden and the spring: why do you boast of joy?
I will show you joy when my own spring arrives.
باغ و بهار را بگو لافِ خوشی چه میزنی؟
من بِنِمایَمَت خوشی چون بِرَسَد بهارِ من
When you drink wine, tell the wine: why do you strike my head?
Have you not seen within your head my wine, which brings no hangover?
میْ چو خوری بگو به میْ بر سَرِ من چه میزَنی؟
در سَرِ خود ندیدهیی بادۀ بیخُمارِ من؟
The rest in comments ...
ادامه در کامنت ...
