خاقانی: "ایوان مدائن"


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خاقانی: "ایوان مدائن"
by R2-D2
19-Jul-2010
 

 

 

 


هان ای دل عبرت بین از دیده نظر کن هان
ایوان مدائن را آیینه‌ی عبرت دان

یک ره ز ره دجله منزل به مدائن کن
وز دیده دوم دجله بر خاک مدائن ران

خود دجله چنان گرید صد دجله‌ی خون گویی
کز گرمی خونابش آتش چکد از مژگان

بینی که لب دجله کف چون به دهان آرد
گوئی ز تف آهش لب آبله زد چندان

از آتش حسرت بین بریان جگر دجله
خود آب شنیدستی کاتش کندش بریان

بر دجله‌گری نونو وز دیده زکاتش ده
گرچه لب دریا هست از دجله زکات استان

گر دجله درآموزد باد لب و سوز دل
نیمی شود افسرده، نیمی شود آتش‌دان

تا سلسله‌ی ایوان بگسست مدائن را
در سلسله شد دجله، چون سلسله شد پیچان

گه‌گه به زبان اشک آواز ده ایوان را
تا بو که به گوش دل پاسخ شنوی ز ایوان

دندانه‌ی هر قصری پندی دهدت نو نو
پند سر دندانه بشنو ز بن دندان

گوید که تو از خاکی، ما خاک توایم اکنون
گامی دو سه بر مانه و اشکی دو سه هم بفشان

از نوحه‌ی جغد الحق مائیم به درد سر
از دیده گلابی کن، درد سر ما بنشان

آری چه عجب داری کاندر چمن گیتی
جغد است پی بلبل، نوحه است پی الحان

ما بارگه دادیم، این رفت ستم بر ما
بر قصر ستم‌کاران تا خود چه رسد خذلان

گوئی که نگون کرده است ایوان فلک‌وش را
حکم فلک گردان یا حکم فلک گردان

بر دیده‌ی من خندی کاینجا ز چه می‌گرید
گریند بر آن دیده کاینجا نشود گریان

نی زال مدائن کم از پیرزن کوفه
نه حجره‌ی تنگ این کمتر ز تنور آن

دانی چه مدائن را با کوفه برابر نه
از سینه تنوری کن وز دیده طلب طوفان

این است همان ایوان کز نقش رخ مردم
خاک در او بودی دیوار نگارستان

این است همان درگه کورا ز شهان بودی
دیلم ملک بابل، هندو شه ترکستان

این است همان صفه کز هیبت ار بردی
بر شیر فلک حمله، شیر تن شاد روان

پندار همان عهد است از دیده‌ی فکرت بین
در سلسله‌ی درگه، در کوکبه‌ی میدان

از اسب پیاده شو، بر نطع زمین رخ نه
زیر پی پیلش بین شه مات شده نعمان

نی نی که چو نعمان بین پیل افکن شاهان را
پیلان شب و روزش گشته به پی دوران

ای بس پشه پیل افکن کافکند به شه پیلی
شطرنجی تقدیرش در ماتگه حرمان

مست است زمین زیرا خورده است بجای می
در کاس سر هرمز خون دل نوشروان

بس پند که بود آنگه بر تاج سرش پیدا
صد پنو نوست اکنون در مغز سرش پنهان

کسری و ترنج زر، پرویز و به زرین
بر باد شده یکسر، با خاک شده یکسان

پرویز به هر بزمی زرین تره گستردی
کردی ز بساط زر زرین تره را بستان

پرویز کنون گم شد، زان گمشده کمتر گو
زرین تره کو برخوان؟ روکم ترکوا برخوان

گفتی که کجار رفتند آن تاجوران اینک
ز ایشان شکم خاک است آبستن جاویدان

بس دیر همی زاید آبستن خاک آری
دشوار بود زادن، نطفه ستدن آسان

خون دل شیرین است آن می که دهد رزبن
ز آب و گل پرویز است آن خم که نهد دهقان

چندین تن جباران کاین خاک فرو خورده است
این گرسنه چشم آخر هم سیر نشد ز ایشان

از خون دل طفلان سرخاب رخ آمیزد
این زال سپید ابرو وین مام سیه پستان

خاقانی ازین درگه دریوزه‌ی عبرت کن
تا از در تو زین پس دریوزه کند خاقان

امروز گر از سلطان رندی طلبد توشه
فردا ز در رندی توشه طلبد سلطان

گر زاده ره مکه تحقه است به هر شهری
تو زاد مدائن بر سبحه ز گل سلمان

این بحر بصیرت بین بی‌شربت ازو مگذر
کز شط چنین بحری لب تشنه شدن نتوان

اخوان که ز راه آیند آرند ره‌آوردی
این قطعه ره‌آورد است از بهر دل اخوان

بنگر که در این قطعه چه سحر همی راند
مهتوک مسیحا دل، دیوانه‌ی عاقل جان


 

خاقانی » دیوان اشعار » قصاید

 

شماره ۱۵۲ - هنگام عبور از مداین و دیدن طاق کسری

 

 

 


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Yolanda

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This is a well-loved Poem by Khaghani (Khaqani) - Take your time in both enjoying, and understanding it :)

 

 


yolanda

.....

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Thank you, RD, for posting the translation......I searched for the English translation last night....I found nothing.....

The poem is very pretty and meaningful.......but it will take a while to digest.....I need to look up some words to help me understand better......like Dr. Noury said...it is not easy to translate his poetry....Thank you for sharing....I am glad that I am introduced to a great Persian poet.


R2-D2

The Ruins of Madain

by R2-D2 on

 

 

My soul, come, draw lessons from life, look around…
A mirror to help you in old Madain can be found.


Beside the Dajla lie the ruins of great Madain.
The river's long banks with bitterest groaning resound.

More blood flows than water from Dajla's suffering eyes.
No tears touch its cheek, dried by flames that from
Smouldering ruins arise

See - the Tigris is foaming - foal curls on the lips of each wave…
How mournful those ruins burying hearts and their sighs!

The heart of the Tigris is burnt by sorrow and fear.
Can flames be so intense that the water itself they sear?

The river great tribute must pay every year to the sea,
So add your small part with a drop of your blood, not a tear.

Heave a sigh and the flame from your heart will divide the
Tigris's great stream -
Then one river of ice and another of lava will gleam.

The river enchained had to witness the end of this place,
It twisted and turned like a chain when it heard the last scream.

May their hearts draw men here! May the voice of the ruins prevail!
Let every heart hear at least one whispered word without fail!

It seems that those jagged-toothed ramparts hold precepts for men,
That they soon must be granted a tongue and will tell their own tale.

The owl's endless hoot makes my head ring as if with mad cries.
To sooth my discomfort the tears will soon start from my eyes.

All songs here are elegies. Nightingales here are all owls.
The cry Madain raised to heaven throughout the world flies.

This place speaks of chambers of justice once ruined by hate.
The throne fell to tyrants who rose unaware of their fate.

Was fortune or God's retribution the force that could shatter
The towers and bring down in ruins a palace so great?

Don't laugh at my tears in this dead place enveloped in palls -
A man would look foolish if he did not weep in such halls.

As mighty as Kufa was great Madain in its prime.
As lofty its towering fortress, as strong were its walls.

Though pity burns hot in your heart, of your judgement is cold,
You will see Madain in its beauty like Kufa of old.

Yes, once long ago Madain in its beauty was a work of great art.
The palace had gateways that blazed with mosaics and gold.

Here Babylon's king fulfilled orders that other men gave.
At Madain's court Turkestan's mighty khan was a slave.

From this spot was launched an attack on the lion of fate,
By that lion whose statue is standing here noble and brave.

Imagine this place that once held a whole land in its sway,
The fort as it was, not the ruins that lie here today.

The walls would say, 'Weep! For you, too, have good reason for sorrow.
To dust all must crumble and you, man, are just living clay!'

Dismount from your horse, for your lips to this earth you should press.
Here an elephant's foot crushed Ne'eman, the great master of chess.

Now elephants' castles by monarchs are no longer won,
For the elephant time marches on and brings kings to distress.

Time was hwen the shahs could bring elephants under their sway.
Now time checkmates shahs, they're like elephants gone far astray.

Here Nushiravan's blood was drunk by Ormuz from his skull.
The drink was so strong that it made Ormuz stagger and sway.

A moral was carved on the rim of the crown on his head.
In mine are now surging a thousand as yet still unsaid.

For mandarins Kesra was famed, for his splendour was Parvis.
They have long been forgotten and lie with the most humble dead.

For banquets great Parvis had greenery beaten from gold -
A golden-green garden! A wonderous sight to behold!

That ruler has gone and his plants made of gold are no more
Proclaim "Kemtaraku". His fate shall no longer be told!

You ask where such rulers have gone, since today there are none -
The earth has embraced all these kings, every shah and khagan.

Now pregnant with life, she conceived with greatest of ease,
But bearing new life she now finds is not easily done.

The wine pressed from grapes here is blood of Shirin
dripping red.
The peasants make pots from the body of Parvis long dead.

How many a despot and tyrant this earth has embraced!
Yet still she is yearning for more to recline in her bed.

That black-hearted earth with a snowy and mountainous head -
She rouges her cheeks with the blood that her children have shed!

Teach men, Khagani, how fickle is fortune and life
And let the khagans come to you and by wisdom be led.

Though dervishes wait at the gates of the shah for a gift
That shah one fine day like a dervish may have to make shift.

From Mecca come presents, but I sent my gift to Shirvan
From old Madain, may its moral men's spirit uplift.

The beads many count come from Jamra near Kabaa today
But yours should be made from the flesh of Salman turned to clay.

These vast flowing waters hold lessons - so drink while you may
Where two rivers unite as the Shatt - then set off on your way.

From journeys on far one should bring back a fine souvenir -
My friends, let my gift be the verses I offer you here.

Though seeming disordered my words have made mysteries clear,
Thus Isa also taught, half deranged by a single idea.

 

Translated by Tom Botting

 

 


Ahang Rabbani

A learned essay

by Ahang Rabbani on

This essay might be of interest to those wishing to further explore historical and literary dimensions of this remarkable poem:  //userwww.sfsu.edu/~clsa/portals/2010/holmes.html

Ahang Rabbani, PhD


Ahang Rabbani

English translation

by Ahang Rabbani on

I don't have a translation handy, but the late Prof. Jerome Clinton prepared a masterful translation of this qasideh in late 1970s.  As I recall, he published 2 articles on it.  Sorry, don't have the citation handy.

Ahang Rabbani, PhD


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You're Welcome Red Wine :)

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I have always enjoyed this poem since I first came across it many years ago, in the Adabiyat-e Farsi text book of Panjom-e Motevasateh

 


Red Wine

...

by Red Wine on

ما ارادت خاصی‌ نسبت به اعضای محترم جنگ ستاره گان داریم.(Fan since first part,member since 1983)

تا به حال عکسی‌ از شیخ الخاقانی ندیده بودیم،متشکریم که اینجا آن را گذاشتید.

لذت بردیم،سپاسگزاریم.

 


R2-D2

Porch of Madain (in Persian: Aivan-e-Madaaen)

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I posted this beautiful poem by Khaqani in the comment section of an interesting blog by Dr. Noury, titled: First Iranian Master in Purposeful Poetry - I decided to re-post the poem in this blog in case others were looking for it :)

P.S. If you can find a good English Translation of it, please post it here .....