Saadi's Ghazals
مهر سرودهای روحنواز یا غزلهای شورافکن سعدی رازگشای نهانیترین لحظات انسان است که با زبان عشق، رازهای دل شیدایی را به گونهای شگفتآور، بازگو میکند. در پارهای از غزلهای او، زبانش تفسیرکننده جان شیفتگان اهل معناست. این نابغۀ دهر در کوتاهترین واژهها با کلامی عفافآمیز، عشق و شوریدگی را در الفاظ الماسگونش، جلوهگر میسازد. جلوهای به زلالی آب و آسانیاب و غیر قابل تقلید. به همین جهت است که سبک و شیوه سعدی را «سهل و مُمتَنِع» نامیدهاند
شهرخ پیرنیا –
Saadi’s soulful غزلیات ghazaliyāt [‘sonnets’] reveal to us the hidden secrets and moments of the human experience of love. Through this language of love, Saadi finds special ways to narrate the lamentations of an enamored heart. He manages to find ways to express complex ideas of love and passion between two people in the most succinct way possible. His poetic style is like a crystal clear pool of water, which upon closer inspection has an unexpected depth to it. It is for this reason that his poetic style can be referred to as سهل و ممتنع sahl-o momtane’ [‘refined simplicity’].
– By Shahrokh Pirnia
Ghazal 1
Poem recited by Navid Sarmast
‘Like showers in the spring, let my tears flow,
Even rocks bitterly cry when lovers depart and go.
He who has tasted the wine of separation,
Knows the difficulty of cutting off hope.
Tell the caravaneer the tale of the deluge in my eyes,
So that he won’t take the camels out under such rainy skies.
My eyes burn with the searing tears of regret,
Like a sinner crying on the day of judgement.
O morning, my soul cannot bear these night revelries any more,
I feel like a believer weary from waiting to break the fast.
I have spoken at length about the tale of your love,
Yet it’s nothing compared to my unspoken heartbreaking sorrow.
Saadi, the gift of love was given to your heart for eternity,
To stop a love like this would take a lifetime.
What more shall I say? I have already said enough,
The rest may not be told, except to those who grieve their heartbreak like me.’
Bogzār tā begeryim chun abr dar bahārān
K-az sang gerye khizad ruz-e vedā’-e yārān
Har k-u sharāb-e forqat ruzi cheshide bāshad
Dānad ke sakht bāshad qat’-e omidvārān
Bā sārbān beguyid ahvāl-e āb-e cheshm-am
Tā bar shotor nabandad mahmel be ruz-e bārān
Bogzāshtand mā rā dar dide āb-e hasrat
Geryān chu dar qiyāmat cheshm-e gonāh-kārān
Ey sobh-e shab-neshinān jān-am be tāqat āmad
Az bas ke dir māndi chun shām-e ruze-dārān
Chandin ke bar-shemordam az mājerā-ye eshq-at
Anduh-e del nagoftam ellā yek az hezārān
Sa’adi be ruzgārān mehri neshaste bar del
Birun nemi-tavān kard ellā be ruzgārān
Chand-at konam hekāyat sharh in qadar kefāyat
Bāqi nemi-tavān goft ellā be gham-gosārān
بگذار تا بگرییم چون ابر در بهاران
کز سنگ گریه خیزد روز وداع یاران
هر کو شراب فرقت روزی چشیده باشد
داند که سخت باشد قطع امیدواران
با ساربان بگویید احوال آب چشمم
تا بر شتر نبندد محمل به روز باران
بگذاشتند ما را در دیده آب حسرت
گریان چو در قیامت چشم گناهکاران
ای صبح شبنشینان جانم به طاقت آمد
از بس که دیر ماندی چون شام روزهداران
چندین که برشمردم از ماجرای عشقت
اندوه دل نگفتم الّا یک از هزاران
سعدی به روزگاران مهری نشسته بر دل
بیرون نمیتوان کرد الّا به روزگاران
چندت کنم حکایت شرح این قدر کفایت
باقی نمیتوان گفت الّا به غمگساران
| وِداع | Vedā’ | ‘Farewell’ (A Persian synonym for this word is خداحافظی khodā-hāfezi) |
| فُرقَت | Forqat | ‘Seperation, distance, جدایی jodāyi’ |
| اَحوال | Ahvāl | ‘Condition, state’ (the Arabic broken plural of حال hāl) |
| مَحمِل | Mahmel | ‘The load’ (placed on the back of camels) |
| حَسرَت | Hasrat | ‘Regret’ |
| قیامَت | Qiyāmat | ‘Ressurection’ (translated in this ghazal as ‘day of judgement’) |
| گُناهکار | Gonāhkār | ‘Sinner’ |
| شبنشینان | Shab-neshinān | ‘Night revellers’ (literally ‘night-sitters’; those who sing and drink and party through the night) |
| ماجِرای عِشقَت | Mājerā-ye eshq-at | ‘The tale/adventure of your love’ |
| بَرشِمُردَن | Bar-shemordan | ‘To recount’ |
| الّا یک از هزاران | Ellā yek az hezārān | ‘Not even one out of a thousand’ |
| این قدر کفایت | In qadar kefāyat | ‘This much (is) enough’ |
| غمگساران | Gham-gosārān | ‘Sorrowful people, those living with sadness’ |
Ghazal 2
Poem recited by Hāleh Sattāri Pour
‘O caravaneer, go slowly as the pace of my heart is travelling with you,
And the heart that I once owned is returning to its lover.
It leaves me abandoned, it leaves me poor and suffering and helpless,
So distant that the pain stings me to the bone.
I said let me hide my inner wounds with deception,
The wound won’t stay hidden while blood stains my sleeve.
Go gently o caravaneer, lest you disturb the caravan train,
From what I feel for that travelling love, it seems I’m losing my soul.
I am left here tasting the poision of loneliness as she leaves without looking back,
No longer ask me about any signs, all the signs are fading from my heart.
My rebellious friend returned leaving me in a troubled state,
As I am burning like a brazier brimming with coal, the smoke billowing over my head.
With all the unfairness of her passion and promises left unfulfilled,
In my heart I still carry her memories, and in my speech her name.
Come back and rest on my eyes, o the beloved owner of my heart,
Listen to my sighs and agony travelling toward the skies.
From dusk until dawn I’m restless, taking no heed of others’ advice,
I’m not moving down this path of my own will; I’m losing my grip,
They say many different things about the moment the soul leaves the body,
And I witnessed with my own eyes that my soul is leaving me.’
Ey sārebān āheste row k-ārām-e jān-am mi-ravad
V-ān del ke bā khod dāshtam bā del-setān-am mi-ravad
Man mānde-am mahjur az u bi-chāre-vo ranjur az u
Guii ke nishi dur az u dar ostokhān-am mi-ravad
Goftam be neyrang-o fosun penhān konam rish-e darun
Penhān nemi-mānad ke khun bar āstān-am mi-ravad
Mahmel bedār ey sārevān tondi makon bā kārevān
K-az eshq-e ān sarv-e ravān guii ravān-am mi-ravad
U mi-ravad dāman-keshān man zahr-e tanhāyi cheshān
Digar mapors az man neshān k-az del neshān-am mi-ravad
Bargasht yār-e sarkash-am bogzāsht eysh-e nākhush-am
Chun majmari por-ātash-am k-az sar dokhān-am mi-ravad
Bā ān hame bi-dād-e u v-in ahd-e bi-bonyād-e u
Dar sine dāram yād-e u yā bar zabān-am mi-ravad
Bāz āy-o bar cheshm-am neshin ey del-setān-e nāzanin
K-āshub-o faryād az zamin bar āsmān-am mi-ravad
Shab tā sahar mi-naghnavam v-andar ze kas mi-nashnavam
V-in rah na qāsed mi-ravam k-az kaf ‘enān-am mi-ravad
Dar raftan-e jān az badan guyand har nu’i sokhan
Man khod be chashm-e khishtan didam ke jān-am mi-ravad
ای ساربان آهسته رو کآرام جانم میرود
وآن دل که با خود داشتم با دلستانم میرود
من ماندهام مهجور از او بیچاره و رنجور از او
گویی که نیشی دور از او در استخوانم میرود
گفتم به نیرنگ و فسون پنهان کنم ریش درون
پنهان نمیماند که خون بر آستانم میرود
محمل بدار ای ساروان تندی مکن با کاروان
کز عشق آن سرو روان گویی روانم میرود
او میرود دامنکشان من زهر تنهایی چشان
دیگر مپرس از من نشان کز دل نشانم میرود
برگشت یار سرکشم بگذاشت عیش ناخوشم
چون مجمری پرآتشم کز سر دخانم میرود
با آن همه بیداد او وین عهد بیبنیاد او
در سینه دارم یاد او یا بر زبانم میرود
باز آی و بر چشمم نشین ای دلستان نازنین
کآشوب و فریاد از زمین بر آسمانم میرود
شب تا سحر مینغنوم و اندر ز کس مینشنوم
وین ره نه قاصد میروم کز کف عنانم میرود
در رفتن جان از بدن گویند هر نوعی سخن
من خود به چشم خویشتن دیدم که جانم میرود
In some versions of this ghazal you will see ران rān in the first line, but we believe رو row to be the correct version. At first glance you would think that the verb راندن rāndan ‘to drive’ is more appropriate here. However, we know that from time to time the cameleer would walk alongside the camels, especially to slow them down. It is for this reason that we think رو row pairs better with آهسته āheste ‘slowly’, as in this poem Saadi is addressing the cameleer who would likely have been walking alongside the camels.
Vocabulary:
| ساربان | Sārebān | ‘Caravaneer; the one who leads the caravan train’ |
| آهسته رو | Āheste row | ‘Go slowly’ |
| خفتن | Khoftan | ‘To sleep’ (a synonym of خوابیدن khābidan). |
| جرس | Jaras | ‘Bell, gong, chime’ |
| لامکان | Lāmakān | ‘Noplace, having no abode’ |
| نیلگون | Nilgun | ‘Indigo’ |
| عیان | Ayān | ‘Visible, evident, made explicit’ (a synonym of آشکار āshkār) |
| چرخ دولابی | Charkh-e Dulābi | ‘The spinning wheel’ (a metaphor for the heavens and the skies). |
| خواب گران | Khāb-e gerān | ‘A deep slumber’ |
| مشعله | Mash’ale | ‘Torch’ |
| مشغله | Mashghale | ‘Occupation, preoccupation, activity, passion’ (translated in the poem above as ‘excitement’). |
Ghazal 3
Poem recited by Navid Sarmast
‘I’m not able to spend even one second without you,
I don’t wish to see anybody’s face but yours,
On the very first day I realised that from my involvement with Shirin,
Like Farhād I will have to sacrifice myself for her,
All the opponents in the world cannot stop my love for you,
If they mock me for being crazy, it’s only because I’ve lost my fate,
If you were to draw your sword I would drop my shield at your feet,
Even though without a sword I have already been slain by your silver wrists,
Rise o nighttime lovers the morning of the new day is near,
The moon and the stars from this long night took away my sadness,
From the beginning of my existence death has followed me,
I hope you can forgive me that I am so unfortunate,
I want my heart burning like a candle that lays my soul bare,
And except for her I see nobody that can comfort me,
Laughter on your lips is like a blossoming flower
How can you expect me [a nightingale] to wait patiently in the reeds [like a heron],
The rival teases Saadi to close his eyes and sleep,
O gardener don’t fret, I see the flowers but I won’t pick them.’
Ze dast-am bar nemi-khizad ke yek dam bi-to benshinam
Be joz ruy-at nemi-khāham ke ruy-e hich-kas binam
Man avval ruz dānestam ke bā shirin dar-oftādam
Ke chun farhād bāyad shost dast az jān-e shirin-am
To rā man dust mi-dāram khalāf-e har ke dar ālam
Agar ta’na-st dar aql-am agar rekhna-st dar din-am
V-agar shamshir bargiri separ pish-at biyandāzam
Ke bi-shamshir-e khod koshti be sā’ed-hā-ye simin-am
Bar-ā ey sobh-e moshtāqān agar nazdik-e ruz āmad
Ke begreft in shab-e yaldā malāl az māh-o parvin-am
Ze avval hasti āvardam qafā-ye nisti khurdam
Konun ommid bakhshāyesh hami-dāram ke meskin-am
Deli chun sham’ mi-bāyad ke bar jān-am bebakhshāyad
Ke joz vey kas nemi-binam ke mi-suzad be bālin-am
Tu hamchun gol ze khandidan lab-at bā ham nemi-āyad
Ravā dāri ke man bolbol chu butimār benshinam
Raqib angosht mi-khāyad ke Sa’di chashm bar ham ne
Matars ey bāghbān az gol ke mi-binam nemi-chinam
ز دستم بر نمیخیزد که یک دم بیتو بنشینم
به جز رویت نمیخواهم که روی هیچکس بینم
من اول روز دانستم که با شیرین درافتادم
که چون فرهاد باید شست دست از جان شیرینم
تو را من دوست میدارم خلاف هر که در عالم
اگر طعنه است در عقلم اگر رخنه است در دینم
وگر شمشیر برگیری سپر پیشت بیندازم
که بیشمشیر خود کشتی به ساعدهای سیمینم
برآ ای صبح مشتاقان اگر نزدیک روز آمد
که بگرفت این شب یلدا ملال از ماه و پروینم
ز اوّل هستی آوردم قفای نیستی خوردم
کنون امّید بخشایش همیدارم که مسکینم
دلی چون شمع میباید که بر جانم ببخشاید
که جز وی کس نمیبینم که میسوزد به بالینم
تو همچون گل ز خندیدن لبت با هم نمیآید
روا داری که من بلبل چو بوتیمار بنشینم
رقیب انگشت میخاید که سعدی چشم بر هم نِه
مترس ای باغبان از گل که میبینم نمیچینم
| بر نخاستن | Bar nakhāstan | ‘To not be capable of’ |
| با شیرین درافتادم | Bā shirin dar-oftādam | ‘I got involved with Shirin [my sweet beloved]’ Note: this line has a double meaning, as here شیرین Shirin is used to mean both ‘sweet/sweetness’ and ‘Shirin’, the lover from Nizami’s famous story. This is evidenced by the next line, which explicitly mentions فرهاد Farhād, the story’s love-rival. |
| دست از جان شستن | Dast az jān shostan | ‘To give one’s life, to sacrifice one’s life, to accept death’ |
| سپر انداختن | Separ andākhtan | ‘To concede, to surrender’ (literally: ‘to throw in one’s shield’) |
| طعنه زدن | Ta’ne zadan | ‘To tease, to taunt’, a synonym of کنایه زدن kenāye zadan |
| رخنه | Rekhne | As a noun, رخنه rekhne means ‘chink, breach’ (such as a gap in a wall), and as a verb رخنه کردن rekhne kardan means ‘to permeate, to infiltrate, to break through a gap’. |
| ساعد | Sā’ed | ‘Forearm’ |
| مشتاقان | Moshtāqān | ‘The eager ones’ |
| ملال | Malāl | ‘Pain, suffering’ |
| مسکین | Meskin | ‘Unfortunate, wretched, poor’ |
| به بالینِ کسی سوختن | Be bālin-e kasi sukhtan | A Persian idiom meaning ‘to look after someone’ |
| بوتیمار | Butimār | A type of water bird, called ‘bitterns’, known for their patience. |
| انگشت خاییدن | Angosht khāyidan | ‘To bite one’s finger’ (translated in this ghazal as ‘teases’) |
Ghazal 4
Poem recited by Navid Sarmast
‘When my enamored heart was visiting the beautiful gardens,
The lovely scent of the flowers intoxicated me,
The nightingales were passionately singing, and flowers were blooming everywhere,
However, all these beauties will be forgotten the moment I think of you,
You are the one whose love has filled every single heart, yet has sealed lips,
You are a dream everyone desires secretly, a secret which cannot be uttered openly,
The moment I pledged my loyalty to you, I renounced all my other commitments,
For the one who vows to be loyal to you is allowed to break all other promises,
As long as the thorn of your love constantly pokes at my heart,
Why should I go to the garden to be poked at by the roses’ thorns?
The one who suffers from the pangs of your love,
Has to relinquish every hope to be cured one day,
We deserve all the pain and suffering which your love brings upon us,
For the hardship of the desert is nothing if the holy shrine of love awaits him at the end,
If the arrows of your love are going to hit their target,
I will definitely be one among their many victims,
One who falls for a sweetheart with beautiful arch-shaped eyebrows,
Like a bow, must always be ready to receive the arrows of her love,
I am repeatedly asked to stop talking about her love so much,
I will not stop talking about it, and it will be talked about for years long after I am gone.’
Vaqti del-e sudāyi mi-raft be bostān-hā
Bi-khishtan-am kardi bu-ye gol-o reyhān-hā
Gah na’re zadi bolbol gah jāme daridi gol
Bā yād-e to oftādam az yād bereft ānhā
Ey mehr-e to dar del-hā v-ey mohr-e to bar lab-hā
V-ey shur-e to dar sar-hā v-ey serr-e to dar jān-hā
Tā ahd-e to darbastam ahd-e hame beshkastam
Ba’d az to ravā bāshad naqz-e hame peymān-hā
Tā khār-e gham-e eshq-at āvikhte dar dāman
Kutah nazari bāshad raftan be golestān-hā
Ān rā ke chonin dardi az pāy dar-andāzad
Bāyad ke forushuyad dast az hame darmān-hā
Gar dar talab-at ranji mā rā beresad shāyad
Chun eshq haram bāshad sahl ast biyābān-hā
Har tir ke dar kish ast gar bar del-e rish āyad
Mā niz yeki bāshim az jomle-ye qorbān-hā
Har k-u nazari dārad bā yār-e kamān abru
Bāyad ke separ bāshad pish-e hame peykān-hā
Guyand magu Sa’adi chandin sokhan az eshq-ash
Mi-guyam-o ba’d az man guyand be durān-hā
وقتی دل سودایی میرفت به بستانها
بیخویشتنم کردی بوی گل و ریحانها
گه نعره زدی بلبل گه جامه دریدی گل
با یاد تو افتادم از یاد برفت آنها
ای مهر تو در دلها وی مهر تو بر لبها
وی شور تو در سرها وی سرّ تو در جانها
تا عهد تو دربستم عهد همه بشکستم
بعد از تو روا باشد نقض همه پیمانها
تا خار غم عشقت آویخته در دامن
کوته نظری باشد رفتن به گلستانها
آن را که چنین دردی از پای دراندازد
باید که فروشوید دست از همه درمانها
گر در طلبت رنجی ما را برسد شاید
چون عشق حرم باشد سهل است بیابانها
هر تیر که در کیش است گر بر دل ریش آید
ما نیز یکی باشیم از جمله قربانها
هر کو نظری دارد با یار کمان ابرو
باید که سپر باشد پیش همه پیکانها
گویند مگو سعدی چندین سخن از عشقش
میگویم و بعد از من گویند به دورانها
| دل سودایی | Del-e sudāyi | ‘Enamored heart’ |
| نعره زدن | Na’re zadan | ‘To clamour, to cry’ (translated in this poem as ‘passionately singing’) |
| مُهر | Mohr | ‘Seal’ |
| نقض همه پیمانها | Naqz-e hame peymān-hā | ‘Violation of all [other] agreements/commitments’ |
| دست فروشستن | Dast forushostan | ‘To relinquish, to erase, to cleanse’ |
| شاید | Shāyad | You may have learnt that the meaning of شاید shāyad is the modal verb ‘may/might’, which is of course its primary meaning. However, here it is a variant of the verb شایستن shāyestan ‘to deserve, to be worthy’ |
| یار کمان ابرو | Yār-e kamān-abru | ‘Beloved with arched brows’ |
| باید که سپر باشد پیش همه پیکانها | Bāyad ke separ bāshad pish-e hame peykān-hā | ‘Like a bow, must always be ready to receive the arrows of her love’ Note: our English translation of this line has changed the metaphor to that of ‘bows and arrows’ so that it more closely aligns with the previous lines. |
