
Ghazal 265 — Āḫir olup ḳalmadan bu ḥasret ey dil yarına
Münîrî plays in this ghazal on yarın (tomorrow) and yār (beloved), likening the lip to a parrot with sugar and the green down to a court deed recording a confession.

Münîrî plays in this ghazal on yarın (tomorrow) and yār (beloved), likening the lip to a parrot with sugar and the green down to a court deed recording a confession.

A single couplet by Kara Fazlî preserved by Kâfzâde: the beloved, addressed as king, is warned not to shed lovers' blood unjustly, for that blood will not stay on the ground.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal likening the heart to a sea and tears to pearls cast on the shore: a soul lost in the curls of the locks, rust wiped from the mirror and sighs that burn the sky.

In this ghazal Münîrî shows an eye that would make a salve from the dust of the beloved's road, and silences the gossips with the proverb "the dog barks, the caravan moves on".

A single couplet by Kara Fazlî preserved by Kâfzâde: the lover asks the beloved to cleave his head in two with the sword and make it an instrument for the band of grief.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal on a heart mad for the beloved's hair and a soul that is the moth of her cheek: a love that eclipses Ferhad and Şirin, an image hidden as treasure in the heart.

Münîrî opens this ghazal with a pun on wound and split, and speaks of glances shooting at a sparrow, fate blackening black earth with black blood, and a candle on the night of union.

A single couplet by Kara Fazlî preserved by Kâfzâde: whoever would escape the arrow of grief is advised not to stand facing anyone like a target, a counsel of seclusion.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal in which every couplet ends in a question: a mouth like the jewel box of Aden, lips that may or may not exist, and news asked of the morning breeze.

Münîrî likens roses to the fire of Moses and arrowheads in the liver to rosebuds, speaks to the golden belt at the beloved's waist and laments skill without fortune.

A single couplet by Kara Fazlî preserved in Tuhfe-i Nâilî: the lover, warned that the beloved would stone him with cruelty, says plainly that all they said has befallen him.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal with the refrain "itdi": a glance whose arrow is a kindness and whose dagger is a cure, and Şâhî, shah of a free realm, made a slave by the fair.

Münîrî likens the green down to Hızır reaching the water of life, the fairy's plumes to a hümâ spreading its wings over Solomon, and a tress on the cheek to a hyacinth's shadow.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal with the refrain "has come", opening in joy: a voice heard in a dream, a desire-granting shah who says "let me bring him to his wish", and a union awaited.

In this ghazal Münîrî commends the heart caught in the tress to God, and speaks of arrows turned to cypresses shading his tomb and a kiss asked as the alms due on beauty.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal reproaching a shah who has turned to oppression: an unheard lament, a heart broken by the pickaxe of separation, Ferhad and Şirin, and an ascetic's lost litanies.

Münîrî tells of a life used up in separation and a crooked sky, likens the lover to the ney with its wounded breast, and says union comes by God's gift, not by reason.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal with the refrain "I gave my heart": a lover surrendering to a beloved with a sorcerer's glance, lasso-like locks, a candle cheek and a blood-shedding eye.

In this short ghazal Münîrî rhymes "kılca" both as "a hair's worth" and "thin as a hair", and with a pun on heart and tongue urges the lover to keep walking the road of love.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal with the refrain "I long to see you": in Kılıç's reading, a servant left in a land of exile longing to see his padishah, his father Süleyman the Magnificent.

In this ghazal Münîrî joins "derdine" and "derdi ne" in the rhyme, likens his tears to children running after a mad heart, and opens his pain to a fellow sufferer.

Prince Bayezid's nazire to a ghazal by Zihnî: images of madness and light, a text whose closing couplet with the pen name survives only in the Pervâne Bey Mecmuası, and chain-like locks.

Münîrî contrasts the cypress that shades flowing water with a beloved indifferent to his tears, recalls the morning and night cups, and likens the dawn sigh to an arrow.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal on a difficult "-îşe" rhyme: an arrow of the glance that passes without breaking, a sigh that yellows the forest and Ferhad, punished for revealing love's secret.

Münîrî's spring ghazal with the refrain "şükūfe" plays on "bār" as load, at least and occasion, and likens blossoming trees to wedding nahıls adorned for the bride of the meadow.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal in which he calls himself the Khusraw of love: the meadow of the cheek, a mouth that silences the bud, the sky's golden basin, the new beloved and old wine.

Münîrî's ghazal with the refrain "tāze tāze" rhymes "hevā" as both breeze and desire, and likens his yellowed face to fresh ambers offered to the beloved.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal opening with the garment of seclusion: the head of love's realm in the corner of non-being, a coarse blanket not traded for a robe, the garment of separation.

In this ghazal Münîrî lifts the bird of the heart beyond the falcon of the Sidre, and tells of the jealous heart, the cloister of the passing world and tears that quench separation.

Prince Bayezid's four-couplet ghazal: a blank left in the manuscript after the third couplet, a heart whose water is tears and whose food is grief, an eye on the beloved's foot.

Münîrî likens the beloved's Turk eye to a conqueror seizing the heart's realm, its gazelle eye to prey striking a lion, and sets the rival's oath against an infidel of Rumelia.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal with the refrain "the separation from": a lover parted from a cypress-like beloved, and perhaps from a lordship and a homeland, lamenting in the corner of grief.

In this ghazal Münîrî tells of a heart that would sew up the eye with lash-needles to keep its secret, a soul seeing off a guest, and a poet begging with his divan in love's bazaar.

Prince Bayezid's nine-couplet ghazal with the refrain "where is": the rose without a thorn, Shaddad's mansion, Ferhad's mountain and a promise once made to a servant and not kept.

In this ghazal Münîrî sends his eye's greeting to the door by his tears, likens his heart to a coal hidden under ash, and ascribes Zemzem's lying underground to its shame.

Prince Bayezid's ghazal of a lover burning and crying "woe is me": longing hotter than grief, the unfinished "but her mouth", and a cypress and a shroud of roses for his grave.
Karekod · QR code
Bu sayfanın karekodudur. A5 olarak yazdırıp asabilir ya da yapıştırabilirsiniz; okutan kişi doğrudan bu içeriğe ulaşır.
This QR code links to this page. Print it on A5 and post it anywhere; scanning it opens this content.