Original Ottoman Turkish Text

Metre: fā‘ilātün fā‘ilātün fā‘ilātün fā‘ilün

Būy-ı zülfüñle behişte ger vara bād-ı ṣabā
Ravża'dan ḳarşu çıḳup Rıḍvān diye kim merḥabā
Her ne dem bād-ı nesīm irişe ol dem ideler
Ehl-i cennet gözlerine gerd-i rāhuñ tūtiyā
Sāyesinde ḳaddüñüñ sürdügiçün ‘ömr-i dırāz
Serv-i bālāña çenār el götürüp eyler du‘ā
Ney gibi nālem benüm olduġuyiçün sūznāk
İñleyüp āhenk ider çeng eyleyüp ḳaddin dü-tā
Kime şādı kime ġam itmiş Ḫudā ḳısmet ezel
Sensüzin āh eylemek her dem naṣīb itmiş baña
Derd-i dil dermānını ṣordum ṭabībe didi kim
Şerbet-i la‘linden özge derdüñe yoḳdur devā
Sen gidersin iy ṣanem ṣandum bedenden cān gider
Bu sebebden dōstum ‘Adlī didi rūḥum saña

In English

1. If the morning breeze should reach Paradise carrying the scent of your locks, Rıdvan, the keeper of Paradise, would come out from the garden of Paradise to meet it and say "welcome".

2. Whenever the gentle morning breeze arrives (in Paradise), the people of Paradise at that very moment make the dust of your path into kohl for their eyes. (Tûtiyâ is the kohl applied to the eyes and believed to heal them. The M1 and M2 manuscripts read "iletse" (should carry) instead of "irişe" (should arrive); in this reading the morning breeze is understood to carry the dust of the path to Paradise. In the T manuscript this part of the line is different.)

3. Because it has lived a long life in the shade of your stature, the plane tree raises its hands and prays for your cypress-like figure. (The hand-shaped leaves of the plane tree are likened to hands opened in prayer, and the beloved's stature to the cypress.)

4. Because my moaning burns like the reed flute, the harp too bends its body double and keeps me company with its lament. (The çeng is a stringed instrument with a curved frame; its shape is likened to a person bent double.)

5. In pre-eternity God allotted joy to some and grief to others; to me He allotted sighing every moment without you.

6. I asked the physician for a remedy for the pain of my heart; he said: "There is no cure for your pain other than the sherbet of (the beloved's) ruby lips."

7. O idol of beauty, you are leaving; I thought my very soul was departing from my body. For this reason, my friend, Adlî called you "my soul".

Literary and Historical Commentary

Structure of the Poem

This is a ghazal (gazel) of seven couplets. The metre is the "fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilün" pattern of the remel family of aruz (quantitative metre). The ghazal has no redif (refrain word); the rhyme is built on the sound "-â": ṣabā, merḥabā, tūtiyā, du‘ā, dü-tā, baña, devā, saña. The placing of "baña" and "saña" in the rhyme position in the fifth and seventh couplets shows that the rhyme could also be met with a short "a".

The ghazal stands seventh in the edition and belongs to the section of ghazals ending in the letter elif. It is found in the OR, T, M1 and M2 manuscripts and is absent from İBB. The only variant reading between the manuscripts is in the first line of the second couplet. There is no record of to whom or when it was written.

Meaning and Figures of Speech

The first two couplets of the ghazal are set in Paradise. When the morning breeze, carrying the scent of the beloved's locks, reaches Paradise, Rıdvan, the keeper of Paradise, welcomes it like a guest; the people of Paradise apply the dust of the beloved's path to their eyes as kohl. In divan poetry the morning breeze (sabâ, nesîm) is a messenger carrying news and scent between lover and beloved; Adlî takes this messenger as far as Paradise and makes the beloved's scent seem more precious than Paradise itself. This is hyperbole (mübalağa); there is also a congruence of images (tenasüp) among the words Rıdvan, Ravza (the garden of Paradise) and ehl-i cennet (the people of Paradise). Applying the dust of the path to the eyes as kohl is a well-known motif in divan poetry expressing the sanctity of the ground the beloved has trodden.

The third couplet is a fine example of fanciful aetiology (hüsn-i ta‘lîl). The plane tree is long-lived, and its leaves resemble an open palm. The poet combines these two features: the plane tree is grateful to the beloved for having lived its long life in the shade of the beloved's cypress-like stature, and it raises its hands in prayer. The cypress is the best-known comparison for the beloved's stature in divan poetry.

The fourth couplet is built on musical terms. The words ney (reed flute), nâle (moaning), âheng (harmony), çeng (harp) and "dü-tâ" (doubled, bent double) form a congruence of images. The burning sound of the ney is likened to the lover's moaning, and the curved frame of the harp to a person bent double as it accompanies this moaning.

In the fifth couplet the tone of the ghazal grows heavier. The idea that each person's portion was distributed in pre-eternity allows the lover to accept his separation from the beloved as fate: joy was given to some, grief to others, and what fell to him is sighing. The contrast between "şâdî" (joy) and "gam" (grief) is antithesis (tezat). In the sixth couplet the lover turns to a physician, but the medicine the physician prescribes is the beloved's lips. The words şerbet (sherbet), la‘l (ruby, red lips), derd (pain), dermân (cure), devâ (remedy) and tabîb (physician) set up a medical scene.

In the closing couplet the beloved's departure feels to the lover like his soul leaving his body; for this reason the poet calls the beloved "rûhum", "my soul". There is a congruence of images among soul, body and spirit. Addressing the beloved as "sanem" (idol) is also a common form of address in divan poetry; it expresses that beauty has become an object of worship for the lover.

Bibliography

  • Yavuz Bayram (ed.), Adlî Dîvânı (Dîvân-ı Sultân Bâyezîd-i Sânî), Ankara: Kültür ve Turizm Bakanlığı Yay., 2018, p. 45, poem no. 7. ekitap.ktb.gov.tr