Original Ottoman Turkish Text

Metre: Mefʿūlü fāilātü mefāʿīlü fāʿilün

Ol nā-şüküfte ġonceyi itmişdi dil-pesend
Bülbülden evvel oldum aña ben ʿalāḳa-bend
Gīsū-feşān u cilve-künān, ḳand-rīz-i ḫend
Her gün çıḳardı luʿbegehiydi kenār-ı kend
Bir gün baḳup ne şūḫ, ne şendir didim, didi:
ʿAyn-ı ḫayāl neşʾe-i resānıñ degil midir
Ol māh-ı çārdeh şenbe setr itdi māhını
Geldi kemāle giydi diŝār-ı siyāhını
Ḥasretle çekdim eyledigim göz günāhını
Bir nev-bahār ḳaṣd idüp ārām-gāhını
Billāhi bāġınız ne ḥüsündür didim, didi:
Seyret zemīne şiʿr-i ḥisānıñ degil midir
Girdim müsāʿadeyle temāşā-yı bāġına
ʿAşḳıñ budur riʿāyeti ʿaḳlıñ yasaġına
İtdim teṣādüf ol ṣırada gül ocaġına
Birḳaç şükūfe ṭoplayup atdım ḳucaġına
Baḳ sevdigim şu gül, bu semendir didim, didi:
Bunlar miŝāl-i ḥüsn-i beyānıñ degil midir
Teklīf ḳıldı bir gice kalmaḳlıġım nigār
Çoḳdur, didi: Bu bāġıñ içinde hezār-zār
Vaḳt-ı seherde ṣayd-ı ṣafādır bu yirde kār
“Sen avladıñ beni vü ben itdim seni şikār
Bir başḳa av hevāsı nedendir”: didim, didi:
Ḳaṣdım perī-i şiʿr-i perānıñ degil midir
Baḳdım güşāde ṭurra-i meşkin būyına
Yatmış visāde sünbülüne boylı boyına
Düşmüş gözüm müṭālaʿa-i ḥüsn-i rūyına
Ṭalmış göñül mülāḥaża-i güft-ü-gūyına
Ṣoḥbet seniñle hūş-ı figendir didim, didi:
Ṣoḥbet benimle ḫōşca ziyānıñ deġil midir
Şīrīn tebessümātı maḳāṣıd vesāʾili
Nūşīn tekellümātı muḥabbet delāʾili
Ḥayret-fezā-yı ins-ü melekdir şemāʾili
Bir nūrdur ki şuʿlesidir kendi hāʾili
Bilmem bu nūr cān mı yā tendir didim, didi:
Mirʾāt-ı ʿaks-i cünbiş-i cānıñ degil midir

In English

1. That still unopened rosebud had won my heart; before the nightingale, I was bound to her. Tossing her locks, showing her charms, scattering sugar with her laughter, she came out every day; her playground was the edge of the town. One day I looked and said, "How playful, how merry she is!"; she said, "Is this not the very image of the joy you have reached?"

2. That moon of fourteen nights veiled her moon (her face); she came of age and put on her black covering. With longing I paid for the sin of my glance. One new spring she set out for her resting place (her garden); I said, "By God, how lovely your garden is!"; she said, "Look at the ground: is this not your own fine poetry?"

3. With leave I entered to view her garden; such is love's respect for the prohibition of reason. Just then I came upon a rose bush; I gathered some flowers and threw them into her lap. I said, "Look, my love, this is a rose, that a jasmine!"; she said, "Are these not examples of your fine expression?"

4. One night the beloved proposed that I stay; "There are many nightingales in this garden," she said, "at dawn the business here is the hunting of delight." I said, "You caught me and I made you my prey; why the wish for another hunt?"; she said, "Is my aim not the fairy of your winged poetry?"

5. I gazed at the musky scent of her loosened forelock; she lay at full length on the hyacinth of the pillow. My eye fell to studying the beauty of her face, my heart sank into pondering her talk. I said, "Conversation with you robs one of his wits"; she said, "Is conversation with me not a sweet loss for you?"

6. Her sweet smiles are the means to every wish, her honeyed words the proofs of love; her ways add to the wonder of men and angels; she is a light whose own flame is its veil. I said, "I do not know whether this light is soul or body"; she said, "Is it not the mirror in which the stirring of your soul is reflected?"

Literary and Historical Commentary

A Story Told with "I Said, She Said"

The "dedim dedi" (I said, she said) manner, familiar from folk poetry too, reaches its longest form in the divan in this müseddes; Havva Tok Yıldız also records that Cûdî made use of it. Each stanza begins with a four-line scene; in the fifth line the lover says something and receives an answer with "didim, didi", I said, she said; the sixth line is the beloved's reply and always ends with the question "değil midir", is it not? The six stanzas tell a little story of a love: a still unopened rosebud, a girl playing at the edge of the town, her coming of age and putting on her black covering, entering her garden with leave, an invitation to stay the night, and a long conversation.

The real conceit of the story lies in the answers. Each time the lover praises the beloved, her garden, her flowers, her conversation; each time the beloved turns the praise back to the poet. Her joy is the poet's imagination, her garden his poetry, the flowers examples of his fine expression, what she wishes to hunt is "the fairy of his winged poetry", and the light in her face a mirror reflecting the stirring of the poet's soul. Thus the beloved turns into the poet's muse, into poetry itself, and the müseddes can be read as a poem about writing poetry.

On the other hand the concreteness of the scenes, the child playing at the edge of the town growing up and veiling herself, the garden entered with permission and the invitation to stay the night, also brings to mind a story of betrothal and marriage. The poem does not choose between these two readings; each stanza stands both as a memory and as a likeness of the art of poetry.

Bibliography

  • Havva Tok Yıldız, Merzifonlu İbrâhîm Cûdî Dîvânı (İnceleme-Metin-Sözlük) [1b-43a], Master's thesis, Ondokuz Mayıs University, Samsun 2017, pp. 54-55 (poem no. 43; manuscript fol. 16b-17b); introduction pp. 8-9. http://libra.omu.edu.tr/tezler/116853.pdf

Online sources