A ghazal saying "what stature, what doomsday, what form": the pun on stature and doomsday, an eye-sign only drinkers understand, a misplaced wink at the zealot, and a curse as honour.
A ghazal built on the exclamations "what a doomsday, what a miracle": a lover made a worshipper of the cup, a mocking miracle, an endless tale of love, unquenchable heat and a corrupt line.
A ghazal telling entry into a Sufi order in tavern language: kissing the elder's foot, the hand of acceptance, repentance, the licence, the moment before cup or sky, and the dog's name.
The alms of beauty asked in legal terms: vow, khums, alms and charity, the degrees of paradise left to the preacher, the sugar-drinking parrot of nature and words from a sea of miracles.
![Ghazal 85 — ‘Uşşâk ile [ey] vâ‘iz-i bed-gû ne ‘adâvet](https://amasya05.com/storage/gallery/9e2b7e1d8926436b21885df248de8039.webp)
The harshest satire on the preacher in the divan: the refrain-like "what wickedness, what wickedness", compound ignorance, a preacher stoning the heart's Kaaba, and a poet stoning the devil.
The tavern's mufti asked for a hundred-question fatwa on drink: a jest on Ottoman fatwa language, love as kohl, longing as stick, beauty as pot, and servitude as kingship.
A cupbearer rubai repeating "‘abes" three times: those who think the moaning of the heart futile, the circling cup and devrân, and the judgement turned back on the scrupulous.
A cupbearer rubai rhyming on "bahs": talk of the wine of the lips in place of madrasa disputation, honey of the lips as relish, a wish for face-to-face talk, and the passage to se.
Opening the se section, refrain "bahs": no dispute with the wind, the executioner eye, the guiding Magian or the drinkers; a lover of Alast is sought to dispute with zealots.
A ghazal in the language of learned gatherings: words for conversation, news and disputation, questions left hanging at the curl's tip, and a place third after Ferhad and Majnun.
A ghazal ending every couplet with "el-gıyâs" (help): a plundering glance, an eye counting tribute, Hallâj torn apart, the caravan guide, the lord of the Ascension and a call to Ali.
A ghazal with the refrain "is the cause": denying the tavern folk bars one from the Prophet's sanctuary, humility opens the door, and "dîvâne" means both madman and a new divan.
A cupbearer rubai making the cup a crown and the poet's nature a sultan: tribute from Jamshid, tax paid by the people of words, a claim to mastery in poetry and the passage to cim.
The second cupbearer rubai closing the se ghazals: "revâc" rhyming twice, a gathering enlivened by harp and melody, ruby lips as medicine, and the passage to cim.
Naat opening the cim ghazals: a Prophet to whom the nine spheres are bound and sun and moon are crownless servants, a sidelong glance that sets one straight, and an orphan asking a crown.
The Prophet's street as qibla of the holy realm: Gabriel leading the pilgrims, dust to kiss before the Kaaba, "Levlâke", lightning from Burâq's shoe and a glance that gives uprightness.
A ghazal turning a spring scene into a palace wedding: a crowned bud taking tribute, a rose in a wedding gown, a garden paying tribute to the beloved, beauty needing no proof, eloquent lips.
A ghazal with the refrain "görgeç": the full poem behind Hüsameddin's couplet "Bakdıkça bana gamzelerin", a lament that scatters mountains, refuge in hell, and fame from earth to heaven.
Passion told in the language of old medicine: a disordered temperament cured by lips, a jurist blind to the Quran's subtlety, a creed without proof, and a crown of flame.
Refrain "görgeç": the street dog that greets the lover, the dog as guide, a sea heaving in the wind, a kohl-stone that makes eyes water, and blood boiling at Karbala's soil.
A ghazal ending "yandım, alışdım, dutuşdum": alışmak as catching fire, becoming one with the fire, kâc for "would that", a disordered temperament and an answer to the jurist.
The third ghazal with the refrain "görgeç": a zealot rejoicing at soup, a dog clinging to a morsel, bowing to the dreg-drinkers, a moth running to light, and a beggar before the king.
Training the self told in palace language: tribute withheld by an unafraid servant, a lamp that cannot burn its moth unburned, the heart's flask, and a tree that is a sigh.
A ghazal with the refrain "have you ever seen": questions to the sphere, Husayn of Karbala as the measure of calamity, no king or beggar without sorrow, and why çim ghazals stand under cim.
A rubai forbidding the cupbearer to say "would that" and "perhaps": the Arabic particles leyte and le‘alle, a lover without Khidr's life or Noah's span, morning wine and the passage to hâ.
Rhymes echoing the call to prayer's "salâh" and "felâh": a Sufi blind to the goodness of wine, pure wine that wins prayers from the people of purity, and the passage to hâ.
The ghazal opening the hâ section: Moses' plea "Rabbi erinî", a veil opened by the words Fettâh and miftâh, an elder at the tavern door and Umayyad thoughts washed away by wine.
In a ghazal whose every couplet ends in "cup", the cup speaks: it shows the lover the mountains as his home and walks fearless as the saints, while the pious find the tavern shut.
Morning lifts the veil from the beloved's face; an eye that makes drunk and a cheek that sobers, a tulip holding a cup and the poet's litany meet in this ghazal of dawn.
A second ghazal with the refrain "cup": a preacher who denies the cup, a Sufi waiting for its miracles, a scholar to see his compound ignorance in it and the secret that lies in the poet.
Morning as a lover smitten with a moon: a daybreak tearing its collar, the false and the true dawn, and the light of Ahmed the Chosen arriving before sunrise.
The beloved's cheek is read like a Quran-copy, with a new commentator in each couplet: the interpreter of letters, a glance that speaks in signs, twice-refined sugar, Majnun's secrets.
A second ghazal with the refrain "morning": a sun defeated by the beloved's cheek, a lover to whom night and day are one, a muezzin left to wake the heedless and a veil cast off.
A ghazal with the refrain "opening": the whole of the couplet "Ey gönül miftâh-ı mihr-ile" quoted by Hüsameddin, the veil of the face, the road Majnun opens and the verse of the face.
A rubai whose every line ends "look, O cupbearer": a lover amazed by her drunken eye, a moth burning round the candle, a gazer who cannot look away and a heart thirsting for the cup.
A cupbearer rubai rhymed on the Turkish words çok, yok and tok: a lover burning in separation, a plea not to say no, an eye quenched by a face and the sated eye that turns to faithfulness.
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