Original Ottoman Turkish Text

Metre: mefā‘īlün mefā‘īlün mefā‘īlün mefā‘īlün

Niçe bir ben ża‘īfe derd ü ġamda ḫaste-ḥāl olmaḳ
Gözüñ bīmārı gibi her zamānda bī-mecāl olmaḳ
Gehī ṭurrañ gibi başdan çıḳup şūrīde-ḥāl olmaḳ
Gehī zülfüñ gibi ayaġa düşüp pāy-māl olmaḳ
Behey kāfir Müselmānlıḳ yolında var mıdur bu kim
Ḥarāmī gözlerüñe ḳanumı içmek ḥelāl olmaḳ
Tereddüt çekmeye aġyār la‘lüñ iltifātına
Baña mı ḳaldı vaṣluñ istemek fikr-i muḥāl olmaḳ
Baña gelmiş durur ḳaşuñ ġamından çün hilāl olmaḳ
Saña lāyıḳdur iy meh āftāb-ı bī-zevāl olmaḳ
Behey ‘Adlī ḫam-ı zülfi gibi dāl olmasa ḳaddüñ
Nedür bu ḫalḳ arasında bu deñlü ḳīl ü ḳāl olmaḳ
Hevā-yı ‘ışḳı dil-dāruñ dimāġuñ eylese muḥtel
Esās-ı salṭanatda ṭañ degüldür iḫtilāl olmaḳ

In English

1. How long must I, poor wretch, lie sick in pain and grief, and like your ailing eye be without strength at every moment? (In divan poetry the beloved's languid, half-closed eye is called "sick". Manuscript T reads "gamdan" for "gamda".)

2. Now to rise from the head like your forelock and be distraught, now to fall to the feet like your curls and be trampled. (The forelock spreads over the head, the curls reach down to the feet; the lover too loses his mind and is left under foot.)

3. Hey infidel, is there such a thing on the path of Islam, that it should be lawful for your bandit eyes to drink my blood? (The beloved is called an infidel for stealing hearts; "harâmî" means bandit, but the sound of "haram", forbidden, is heard within it.)

4. While rivals reach the favour of your ruby lip without being kept waiting, is it left to me to long for union with you and to fall into an impossible thought? (The first line can be read in two ways: the word "çekmeye" can be understood as a wish meaning "let them not suffer", or as a noun meaning "to going back and forth". In both readings the outcome of the couplet is the same: the favour goes to the rivals, and the lover is left only with an impossible wish.)

5. Since it has fallen to me, from grief for your brow, to become a crescent (to grow thin and bent like the new moon), it suits you, O moon-faced one, to be a sun that never sets.

6. Hey Adlî, had your stature not turned into the letter "dal" like the curl of the beloved's locks, why would there be so much gossip among the people? (The Arabic letter "dal", with its bent shape, stands for a figure bowed double.)

7. If the passion of love for the beloved unsettles your mind, it is no wonder that there should be disorder in the foundation of the sultanate. (Manuscript OR reads "dimâġum", "my brain", for "dimâġuñ". In M2 the second line of this couplet is missing.)

Literary and Historical Commentary

Structure of the Poem

The ghazal (gazel) has seven couplets and is written in the long hezec pattern made up of four "mefâ‘îlün" feet. The redif (refrain word) is "olmak" (to be, to become), and the rhyme is the sound "-âl": haste-hâl, bî-mecâl, şûride-hâl, pây-mâl, helâl, muhâl, hilâl, bî-zevâl, kîl ü kâl and ihtilâl. Besides the opening couplet, both lines of the second and fifth couplets also rhyme; for this reason the sound "-âl olmak" is heard more often than usual in the ghazal. In the edition the ghazal is found in all five manuscripts (OR, T, M1, M2, İBB) and stands in the section of the divan for refrains ending in the letter "kâf". A point worth noting in its structure is that the pen name (mahlas) appears not in the last couplet but in the sixth; the seventh couplet comes after the pen-name couplet, and in manuscript M2 the second line of this couplet is missing. To whom and when it was written is not known.

Meaning and Figures of Speech

The ghazal opens with a complaint. The lover is without strength at every moment, like the beloved's "sick" eye. In divan poetry the beloved's eye with its languid gaze is counted as sick; the lover's sickness seems to have passed to him from this eye, and a simile is drawn between the two sicknesses. In the second couplet the two forms of the hair correspond to two states of the lover. Just as the forelock spreads over the head, the lover too "rises from the head", that is, loses his mind and is distraught; just as the curls reach down to the feet, the lover too is trampled under foot. The two lines, moving with "now... now...", are built as equals; there is both antithesis and congruence of images (tenasüp) between head and foot, forelock and curls.

The third couplet carries the language of religion into the language of love. The beloved is called an "infidel" for stealing hearts. His eyes drink the lover's blood, and the poet asks whether this is lawful on the path of Islam. "Harâmî" means, in its dictionary sense, bandit, highwayman; but the sound of "haram" (forbidden) is heard in the word, and it forms an antithesis with "helâl" (lawful) at the end of the line. In the fourth couplet the rivals enter the scene: the favour of the beloved's lip goes to them, while the lover is left with an impossible thought of union. The word "tereddüd" means, in its dictionary sense, going back and forth, wavering; since the line can be read in two ways, both meanings are shown in the translation.

In the fifth couplet the heavenly bodies come into play. From grief for the beloved's brow the lover has grown thin and bent like the crescent moon; the brow too resembles the crescent in its shape. To the beloved, however, it is fitting to be "bî-zevâl", a sun that never sets. The contrast between crescent and sun, between what wanes and what never wanes, carries the meaning of the couplet. The sixth couplet is built on the letters of the Arabic script. Adlî's stature has turned into the letter "dal" like the curl of the beloved's locks, and the gossip of the people comes from this. "Kîl ü kâl" means, in its dictionary sense, gossip, idle talk; in the rhyme it joins the other "-âl" sounds.

The seventh couplet says the weightiest thing in the ghazal. If the passion of love unsettles a man's mind, it is no wonder that there should be an upheaval in the foundation of the sultanate. "Muhtel" means, in its dictionary sense, disordered, thrown out of balance; "ihtilâl", from the same root, means disorder, the breakdown of order. This shared root gives the couplet an inner harmony. The word "hevâ" also means, in its dictionary sense, both air and desire, and taken together with "dimâğ" (brain) it calls to mind a giddiness of the head. The irony often seen in Adlî's poems is present here, but from the opposite direction: the one who says that love can shake a sultanate is a poet who himself holds, or will hold, a sultanate. There is no source showing that the couplet is connected with a particular event in the poet's life.

Bibliography

  • Yavuz Bayram (ed.), Adlî Dîvânı (Dîvân-ı Sultân Bâyezîd-i Sânî), Ankara: Ministry of Culture and Tourism Publications, 2018, p. 89, poem no. 51 (manuscript variants in the footnote on p. 89).

Online sources