Original Ottoman Turkish Text
Metre: mefā‘ilün fe‘ilātün mefā‘ilün fe‘ilün
Ḳaçan ki göklere aġar bu āh-ı āteş-bār
Olur cihān gözüme ḳara zülfi gibi tār
Ḫadeng-i ġamzesi baġrumda başlar çıḳarup
Yaşumı ḳana boyadı benüm o lāle-‘iẕār
Şerār-ı āhum ile ra‘d u berḳe od bıraġup
Ḫacīl durur gözümüñ yaġmurından ebr-i bahār
Gözüm yaşını ṣular gördi kendüden gitdi
İşitdi nālemi zārılıġ eyledi kühsār
Gözüñ yaşıyle kenār ola mı senüñ ‘Adlī
Ziyāde ser-keş olupdur o serv-i ḫoş-reftār
In English
1. Whenever this fire-raining sigh rises to the heavens, the world grows dark in my eyes like the beloved's black curls.
2. The arrow of the beloved's glance has pushed its heads out through my breast; that tulip-cheeked one has dyed my tears with blood. (The arrowheads emerging from the breast recall tulips putting their heads up out of the soil, and the bloody tears the red of the tulip.)
3. The sparks of my sighs have set thunder and lightning on fire; the spring cloud stands ashamed before the rain from my eyes.
4. The waters saw my tears and lost themselves; the mountains heard my lament and wept and moaned.
5. O Adlî, will he come to your side (into your embrace) by way of your tears? That cypress of graceful gait has grown far too wilful. (The cypress grows on the bank of a stream; though the lover's tears run like a river, this cypress does not come to the bank. "Kenâr" means both "bank" and "embrace". With the reading "güzâr" in the T manuscript: will he pass by your tears?)
Literary and Historical Commentary
Structure of the Poem
This is a short ghazal (gazel) of five couplets. It is written in the müctess pattern "mefâ‘ilün fe‘ilâtün mefâ‘ilün fe‘ilün". It has no redif (refrain word); the rhyme is the sound "-âr": bâr, târ, izâr, bahâr, kühsâr, reftâr. The ghazal is found in the OR, T, M1 and M2 manuscripts and not in İBB. The edition's footnote records a single variant: in the last couplet T has "güzâr" (passage, passing) in place of "kenâr". To whom and when it was written is not known.
Meaning and Figures of Speech
The subject of the ghazal is the lover's sigh and his tears; the poet sets these two in competition with the great events of nature. Mübalağa (hyperbole) is the governing figure of the whole poem. In the first couplet the fiery sigh rises to the sky and the world goes dark; this darkness is likened to the beloved's black curls, and the lover's pain and the beloved's beauty are joined in a single image. The phrase "âh-ı âteş-bâr" (the fire-raining sigh) is the first link in the contrast between fire and rain that runs from the first couplet to the third.
In the second couplet the beloved's glance (gamze) is an arrow. The phrase "başlar çıkarup" describes the arrows pushing their points out through the breast, but the same words are used of a plant putting its head up out of the soil. The word "lâle-izâr" (tulip-cheeked) at the end of the line supports this second sense: the bloody arrowheads emerging from the breast are like tulips, and the bloody tears are tulip-coloured. The tenasüp (congruence of images) here is built between arrow and wound, tulip and blood.
In the third and fourth couplets the hyperbole reaches its height. The sparks of the sigh set thunder and lightning alight, and the spring cloud is ashamed before the rain of tears. Then the waters lose themselves at the sight of the tears, and the mountains weep on hearing the lament. These couplets contain hüsn-i ta‘lîl (fanciful aetiology): the flowing away of the waters is explained as "losing themselves", and the sounds echoing in the mountains as weeping. Because the idiom "kendüden gitmek" can be taken both as fainting and as water running off into the distance, a tevriye (double entendre) is added to the couplet as well.
The couplet with the pen name (mahlas) ties the ghazal together with the image of the cypress. In the older poetry the cypress grows on the bank of a river; the lover's tears too are like a river. The poet asks himself whether, by way of these tears, that cypress will come to his bank, that is, into his embrace. The double meaning of "kenâr", both bank and embrace, creates the tevriye. The answer is in the second line: that cypress of graceful gait has become far too "ser-keş". The word means wilful, headstrong, and it also suits the tall cypress that holds its head high. So after fire and rain the ghazal ends with a hopeless question.
Bibliography
- Yavuz Bayram (ed.), Adlî Dîvânı (Dîvân-ı Sultân Bâyezîd-i Sânî), Ankara: Kültür ve Turizm Bakanlığı Yay., 2018, p. 61, poem no. 23 (manuscript variant in the footnote on p. 61). ekitap.ktb.gov.tr






