Original Ottoman Turkish Text
Metre: fe‘ilātün fe‘ilātün fe‘ilātün fe‘ilün
Rūz u şeb ḥasret ile geçdi günüm āh n'idem
Baña ḳısmet ġamuñı eylemiş Allāh n'idem
Şükr iderdüm işigin yaṣdanuban yatduġuma
Dergehinden sürer uş ben ḳulını şāh n'idem
Şeb-i hicr ile ḳalup vādi-i ḥayretde dirīġ
Der-i cānāne gider bulımadum rāh n'idem
Ṭāli‘üm şemsi benüm hīç ṭulū‘ eylemedi
Şeb-i yeldā-yı ġama ṭoġmadı bir māh n'idem
Ḳurtaram diyü iñen sa‘y iderem dāmenüñi
Kesilüp dest-i raḳīb olmadı kūtāh n'idem
Uzadup cevr elini ẓulm ile ben ḫaste-dilüñ
Ṭutdı muḥkem yaḳasın ḳomadı her gāh n'idem
Vaṣlın işitdi göñül bulmadı hīç yol aña
Ḳıldı baḫt-ı siyehüm çün beni gümrāh n'idem
‘Adli gögsin dögüben derd ile dir aġlayuraḳ
Senden ayru düşeli āh n'idem vāh n'idem
In English
1. Night and day my days have passed in longing, alas, what am I to do; God has allotted me the pain of you as my portion, what am I to do.
2. I used to give thanks that I could lie at your threshold, making it my pillow; now see, the shah drives this slave of his from his door, what am I to do.
3. Alas, left in the valley of bewilderment with the night of separation, I could not find the road that leads to the beloved's door, what am I to do.
4. The sun of my fortune never rose; not even a moon rose upon that longest night of the year which is grief, what am I to do.
5. I strive hard to free your skirt (from the rival's hand); the rival's hand was not cut off and made short, what am I to do. (To have a short hand means being unable to reach something; the lover wants the rival's hand withdrawn from the beloved's skirt.)
6. Stretching out the hand of cruelty with oppression, it seized the collar of me, the sick-hearted, firmly, and never let go, what am I to do. (The couplet does not name who seizes the collar; read with the previous couplet it is the rival, but it can also be understood as the beloved's cruelty.)
7. The heart heard tell of union with her, but found no road to it at all; for my black fortune led me astray, what am I to do.
8. Beating his breast in pain, weeping, Adlî says: since I fell apart from you, ah, what am I to do, alas, what am I to do.
Literary and Historical Commentary
Structure of the Poem
The ghazal (gazel) has eight couplets and is written in the remel metre "fe‘ilâtün fe‘ilâtün fe‘ilâtün fe‘ilün". Its redif (refrain word) is "n'idem" (what am I to do), and the rhyme is the sound "-âh": âh, Allâh, şâh, râh, mâh, kûtâh, gâh, gümrâh. In the final couplet "vâh" stands in place of the rhyme, and with the phrase "âh n'idem vâh n'idem" the redif is heard twice. It is number 87 in the edition. According to the table in Bayram's introduction the ghazal is common to all manuscripts (OR 23b, T 28b, M1 29a, M2 22b-23a, İBB 16a-16b), but the seventh couplet is found only in T; it is missing in OR, İBB, M1 and M2. The other variants are these: in the second couplet OR and İBB read "olmış" instead of "uş" (see, now); in the third couplet OR has "güzer" (passage) instead of "gider"; in the sixth couplet T, M1 and M2 write "zulm elini cevr ile" instead of "cevr elini zulm ile"; in the final couplet T again reads "âh" instead of "vâh". It is not known to whom or when it was written.
Meaning and Figures of Speech
The redif shapes the whole ghazal. The question "what am I to do" follows a complaint in every couplet and repeats the lover's helplessness like a refrain. The question expects no answer; it is a way of saying that nothing is in the lover's power. In the opening couplet this helplessness is presented as destiny: it is God who has allotted the pain of the beloved to the lover. There is a congruence of images (tenasüp) among the words "rûz u şeb" (day and night) and "gün" (day), and antithesis between night and day.
The second couplet openly sets up the relation of shah and slave that is often found in Adlî's poems. The lover is content to make the beloved's threshold his pillow and lie there, and gives thanks for it; but the "shah" drives this "slave" from his door. "Dergâh", in its dictionary sense, means door, threshold, and the gate of the great; together with "işik" (threshold) it forms a congruence of images around the door. That the author of this couplet was a real shah places the words of the slave driven from the door in the mouth of a ruler.
The third and fourth couplets work with the night. "Vâdi-i hayret", in its dictionary sense, is the valley of bewilderment; on the night of separation the lover has remained in this valley and has not found the road that leads to the beloved's door. Night, valley, road and door call to one another. In the fourth couplet "şeb-i yeldâ", in its dictionary sense, is the longest night of the year. The sun of the lover's fortune has never risen, and not even a moon has risen upon this longest night of grief. There is a congruence of images among sun, rising (tulû‘), night and moon; the expression of fortune through the sun and of grief through night rests the couplet on metaphor (istiare).
The fifth and sixth couplets are built on the image of the hand and of seizing. In the fifth couplet the lover strives to free the beloved's skirt from the rival's hand; the rival's hand is not "cut off" and made "kûtâh". "Kûtâh", in its dictionary sense, means short; "to have a short hand" is an idiom meaning to be unable to reach something. The word "kesilmek" suggests both the cutting off of the hand and the coming to an end of something, and forms a congruence with "short". In the sixth couplet it is the lover's collar that is seized: the hand of cruelty reaches out with oppression, grips the collar of the sick-hearted lover firmly and does not let go. The correspondences between skirt and collar, and between the hand that reaches out and the hand that is not shortened, bind the two couplets together. The reading "zulm elini cevr ile" in T, M1 and M2 does not change the meaning; it swaps the places of the two words.
The seventh couplet, found only in T, speaks of black fortune. The heart has heard news of union but has not found the road to it, because "baht-ı siyeh", black fortune, has led the lover astray. There is a congruence between "yol" (road) and "gümrâh" (one who has lost his way), and the couplet returns to the idea of not finding the road from the third couplet.
The final couplet names the poet in the third person. Adlî speaks beating his breast and weeping, and says the redif of the ghazal twice: "âh n'idem vâh n'idem". Beating the breast, weeping and crying ah and alas are the highest point of the helplessness that began in the opening couplet.
Bibliography
- Yavuz Bayram (ed.), Adlî Dîvânı (Dîvân-ı Sultân Bâyezîd-i Sânî), Ankara: Kültür ve Turizm Bakanlığı Yay., 2018, p. 125, poem no. 87 (manuscript information in the footnote on p. 125; for the poems common to all manuscripts, introduction, Table 3). ekitap.ktb.gov.tr






