Original Ottoman Turkish Text
Metre: Feʿilātün feʿilātün feʿilātün feʿilün
Ey ḫorūs ey melike’l-nefḫ-i ḳıyām-ı ṣuġrā
Mürde-i nevmi seher vaḳtü idersiñ iḥyā
Gice ötdükce sen, insān ṣanır ölmüş ḳāʾim
Evs bin Muʿīr ile ibn-i Riyāḥ İlteḳā
Dirilüp yāʿni mezārında Bilāl-i Ḥabeşī
Yeñiden ḫalḳa müʾeẕẕinlige gelmiş gūyā
Ṭāʾir-i ẕākir-i ḥaḳsıñ ki olursuñ dāʾim
ʿArş-ı raḥmānda öten dīke ʿaḳib-dār ṣadā
Ŝābiteʾl-ʿazmisiñ ey dīn-i ḳadīmiñ diregi
Beşeriyyetdeki edyān ise zilzāl-nümā
Ṭıfl idi nevʿ-i beşer sen recül-i kāmil idiñ
Baġırup kūşene her-dem dir idiñ: Ḥayyī ʿalā!
Beşer-i semti felāḥa çaġırırsıñ lākin
İtmez āẕān-ı beşer böyle eẕānı iṣġā
Sende ey dīñ-i mübārek ne ḳadar ḫaṣlet var
İdeyim ʿaḳlımıñ idrāki ḳadar istiḳṣā
Hele erkeklige enmūzec-i ekmelsiñ sen
Senden ögrense recūliyyeti lāyıḳ süfehā
Ṭavr u ṭarzıñda ʿayān heybet-i ḳuvāmiyyet
Bildirirsiñ ne ise dāʾire-i ḥadd-i nesā
Ḥaremin ḫırmen-i nā-maḥrem iden bī-ġayret
Sendeki merdliġi seyr idüp itmez mi ḥayā
Diyecek yoḳ şu seniñ ʿāʾile-perverligiñe
Başıña ṭoplamadan dāne yimezsiñ tenhā
Ḳıt ġıdā, ḳaḥt-ı ġıdā günleri bulsañ ḥabbe
Çaġırırsıñ diyerek: Ḳūt u ġıdā ḳūt u ġıdā
Dürr-i bedde degişirsiñ yine sen kārlısıñ
Seni aldandı diye lehm idemez ehl-i nühā
Ne kerem-kār ṭabīʿat, ne semāḥatdir bu
Cūd-ı mevcūd ile maḥmīlleriñe ʿarż-ı vefā
Bu ʿadāletle sezādır saña cemʿ-i zevcāt
Yoḳ müsāvāta riʿāyetde ḳuṣūruñ ḳaṭʿā
Alır eṭrāfıñı cemʿīyyet-i ensāl u ʿıyāl
Sen ara yirde vaḳūrāne hüḳūmet-fermā
Mā-kiyān taḥt-ı ḥimāyeñde faḫūrāne ider
Dürr-i yektā gibi ilḳā-yı beyūż-ı beyżā
Ortaḳ ʿavret gibi nezdiñde nizāʿ eyleseler
Baʿżı ḥiddetli bakar baʿżan idersiñ iġżā
Çeşmiñiñ lemʿası çakmaḳ ṭaşınıñ nārı gibi
Dem-i serdī-i şitāde bile sönmez aṣlā
ʿĀʾileñ ḫalḳına ḳahhār degil müşfiḳsiñ
Bu riyā-pūş iṭāʿat nitekim cümle saña
Dişi erkek müteşābih iken ecnās-ı ṭuyūr
Ṭavuġa sende teşābüh çū ŝüreyyā vü ŝerā
Yaḳışır ṭavr-ı dilīr-āne-i ceng-āverlik
Ne baḳışdır, ne ṭuruşdur, ne biçimdir ne edā
Caʿbe-i tīr-i bedum, maġfūr-i ḫūnīn bir ser
Zırh-pūşīde, ferā-çīde, müheyyā-yı veġā
Cenkde sen gibi merdāne ŝebāt eylemeyüp
Cübenā münhezim olduḳda baŝarsıñ yūhā
İtse bir ḫaṣm-ı hevāʾī üzeriñden pervāz
Aña bir “ ḳorrrrḳ” ṣadāsıyla virirsiñ pervā
Sende yoḳdur ṭavuġun ṭavrı ṭavuḳlarda seniñ
Baʿżı insānlara ṭarı olur ol ṭurfe-belā
Ḳadın erkeklenecek olsa ne tekerrüh olur
Merd zen-meşreb ise öyle ḳadından da fenā
Giyinir ʿāʾileñiz elbise-i reng-ā-reng
Ṣarı, çil, māvī, siyeh, sürḫ u sefīd-veş ḳara
Boyamış cāmeñizi ḥażreti ṣıbāġ-ı ḳadīr
Ne ṣolar rengi, ne eskir, ne geçer anda moda
İmrenir niṣaʿñıza ferve-i beyżā-yı ġazāl
Reşk ider tacıñıza hürmüz-i dīhīm-ārā
O güzel ḥulleñi çāk itmek içün ḥāżırlar
Kimi ḳaynar ṣu, kimi pençe-i vaḥşet-peymā
Tilki ṣansar gibi düşmanlarıñız düşse ele
İderim fervelerin selb ile īcāb-ı ḳażā
Diş biler ekliñ içün mufṭır u ṣāʾim herkes
Kesemem, diş bilemem, diş mi? Bıçaġım ḥattā
Seni bir seyl-i ḫurūşānda yüzer görmedeyim
Ṣu ile mīle-i ḳazanda idilirken aġla
Baña ḳalsa ne keser, ne yedirir, ne yer idim
Böyle ḳurmış nideyim bezm-i ʿuṣūr-ı ḳudemā
Saña ṣāḥib ben olaydım yalıñız ʿālemde
Tüyüñe kimse ṭokuñmazdı meger bād-ı ṣabā
Sende olsaydı eger ḳarġadaki setr-i sifād
Bu fażīlet aña düşmiş diyemem: Çūn ü çerā
Edeb ü ʿırżıña artıḳ diyecek ḳalmaz idi
ʿAdd iderdim seni serdār-ı ṭuyūr-ı dünyā
Maʿa-mā-fīh ṣayılmaz ne günāh işler iseñ
Bizim itdiklerimiz ʿadd olunur rūz-ı cezā
Sañada mey var mı aceb neşʾe-i uḫrādan ḥaẓ
Ki nebīler arasında süresiñ ẕevḳ ü ṣafā
Münḥaṣırdır o çi aḳvāl-i ṣanādīd-i ümem
Nefy ü taʿmīm ile taḫṣīṣ-i ḥayāt-ı ʿuḳbā
Biz bu ġavġāyı naṣıl bulduḳ ise öyle ḳoyup
Gideriz, ṣoñra gelenlerde de ʿaynı ġavġā
Geçen eyyām bu dehriñ açılan gülleridir
Ki olur şāhid-i eŝmār kümūn-ı ferdā
Mübtelā ḥubb-ı ḥayāt ne ise genc ü ġanī
Pīr ü müflis daḥi raġbetde degildir ednā
Neden olsa geçerim āh cihāndan geçemem
Bu ʿacūzıñ neresi cāẕib-i cān, ḳalb-i rübā
Zāl-ı dehre göz atar tā geriden necm-i sühā
Var ḳıyās it ne emānīde nücūm-ı kübrā
Ḳalbe geldikde eŝer yoḳ o vaṣiyyetlerden
Olınur ḫayr u ṣalāḥ ancak aġızdan īṣā
Sīneler ḥaḳd u ḥased toḫmına bir mezraʿadır
Öyle münbit ki filiz bitse olur ibre-resā
Dehr-i dūn bir delidir kim ṭutaraḳ ay başısı
Boynına nüsḫa ṭaḳar, ṣanma helāl ġıdā
Ḳaçacaḳ yer ararım ehl-i zamāndan bulamam
Ne ʿırāḳında selāmet, ne rehāsında rehā
Ne ḥicāz-ı müteḥaciz ne yemān-i eymen
Müteşāʾim-i şuhub şūm ile şām u şehbā
Gemi azıya alan at gibidir günlerimiz
Ya yularsız devedir diñlemez emr ü iġrā
Mest-i medhūşedir eyyām ki hep egri gider
Ḳoca gerdūn aña kūb, sufre ideyim ġabrā
Ḥaḳḳ-ı ḥüccet ṭanımaz ʿahde vefādan çaḳmaz
Vaḳte aldanma ki aldandı nice şāh u gedā
Sen gibi ben gibi biñlercesin aldı virdi
Saña bir ayrıca söz virdi mi devrān ʿacabā
Ey güzeller ki virilmiş size min ʿindallāh
Ṭabʿ-ı şīrīn ü ten-i nāzik ü laṭīf sīmā
Añı aḫlāḳ-ı ḥamīdeyle bahālandırıñız
Ki fenā ḫuylar ider ḥüsni de maḥrūm-ı bahā
Ḫūb-ı sīmalarıñ aḳ yüzlerine sürmek içün
Ḳaralar ellerini gizli ʿacūz-ı dünyā
Ḥayy u meyyit dimeyüp gizli ʿuyūbın ḫalḳıñ
Atar enẓār-ı ʿalāniyyete ānān ānā
Böyle nemmāmeliginden bilinir kim ḳārīdir
Şimdi erkekler ise raḥmet oḳutmaḳda aña
Bu ḫurūsiyeye nisbetle ḳuzı körpe ḳalır
Ḳavz-ı kim yazdı birer dāne iki ehl-i ẕekā
In English
1. O rooster, O angel who blows the trumpet of the lesser resurrection (waking from sleep); at the hour of dawn you bring the dead of sleep back to life.
2. When you crow at night one thinks a dead man has risen; Aws ibn Mi'yar (Abû Mahdhûra) and Ibn Rabâh (Bilâl) have met.
3. That is, it is as if Bilâl the Abyssinian had risen in his grave and come back to call the people to prayer.
4. You are a bird that remembers God, for ever answering in echo the rooster that crows at the Throne of the Merciful.
5. O pillar of the ancient faith, you are the one firm in resolve; while the religions among mankind show tremors.
6. Mankind was a child and you a grown man; shouting into its ear, you would say every moment "Hayye alâ!" (Come, hasten!)
7. You call man towards salvation; but human ears do not listen to such a call to prayer.
8. O blessed bird, how many virtues you have; let me search them out as far as my mind can grasp.
9. Above all you are the most perfect model of manliness; it would be fitting for fools to learn manliness from you.
10. In your manner and bearing the majesty of the one who guards and governs the household (kavvâm) is plain; you make known what the bounds of women are.
11. Will the man without honour who makes his harem a threshing floor for strangers not be ashamed on seeing the manliness in you?
12. There is nothing to say against your providing for your family; you never eat a grain alone without gathering your household about you.
13. In days of dearth and scarcity of food, if you find a grain you call out "Food, nourishment! Food, nourishment!"
14. You exchange a pearl for a grain and still come out ahead; men of sense cannot blame you as one who has been cheated.
15. What a generous nature, what liberality this is: to offer loyalty to those in your keeping with the generosity of what you have.
16. With such justice it befits you to gather several wives; you are in no way at fault in keeping equality.
17. A company of offspring and household surrounds you; you rule in their midst with dignity.
18. The hens under your protection proudly lay snow-white eggs, each like a matchless pearl.
19. If they quarrel before you like a shared wife, you look on some with anger and close your eyes to others.
20. The gleam of your eye is like the fire of flint; even in the cold of winter it never goes out.
21. To the folk of your household you are tender, not tyrannical; hence the heartfelt obedience they all show you.
22. Whereas in the kinds of birds female and male resemble each other, between the hen and you there is as much difference as between the Pleiades and the earth.
23. The bearing of a brave warrior befits you; what a look, what a stance, what a figure, what a manner.
24. A tail like a quiver of arrows, a head wrapped in a bloody helmet; clad in mail, wings spread, ready for battle.
25. When cowards who do not hold firm in battle as manfully as you do are routed, you shout "Shame!" at them.
26. If an enemy of the air flies over you, you give him a fright with a cry of "korrrrk".
27. You have none of the hen's manner, nor have hens any of yours; but in some people that strange calamity appears.
28. How loathsome it is if a woman turns mannish; a man of womanish ways is worse even than such a woman.
29. Your family wears garments of every colour: yellow, speckled, blue, black, red, white and dark.
30. The Almighty Dyer (God) has dyed your garments; their colour never fades, they never wear out, and they never go out of fashion.
31. The white fur of the gazelle envies your patterns; the crowned king envies your crown.
32. There are those ready to tear that fine robe of yours: some boiling water, some a savage claw.
33. If enemies of yours like the fox and the marten fell into my hands, I would strip off their furs and carry out the sentence.
34. Fasting or not, everyone sharpens his teeth to eat you; I cannot slaughter, I cannot sharpen my teeth; teeth? I cannot even whet my knife.
35. I see you swimming in a boiling flood; weep while you are being cooked in the cauldron with water. (The line is not entirely clear.)
36. If it were up to me I would neither slaughter, nor serve, nor eat; what can I do? The table of the ages of old was laid this way.
37. Were I alone your master in the world, no one would touch your feathers except the morning breeze.
38. If only you had the crow's habit of hiding (when mating); how this virtue fell to it, I cannot say.
39. There would then be nothing left to say of your manners and honour; I would count you the commander of the birds of the world.
40. Even so, whatever sin you commit is not counted; it is what we do that will be counted on the Day of Judgement.
41. I wonder, do you too have a share of the joy of the hereafter, so that you may enjoy delight and pleasure among the prophets?
42. The matter is confined to the sayings of the leaders of the communities: denying the afterlife (to animals), extending it to all, or granting it to some.
43. As we found this quarrel, so we leave it and go; and among those who come after, the same quarrel goes on.
44. The days gone by are the opened roses of this world; they bear witness to the hidden fruits of tomorrow.
45. However much the young and the rich are addicted to the love of life, the old and the poor are not behind them in their eagerness for it.
46. Whatever I can give up, I give up; ah, but I cannot give up the world; what part of this old hag draws the soul and steals the heart?
47. The star Suhâ casts a glance at the old hag of the world from far away; go and judge what hopes the great stars must hold.
48. Of all the counsels no trace reaches the heart; goodness and virtue are only recommended by the mouth.
49. Breasts are a field for the seed of malice and envy; so fertile that if a shoot springs up it pricks like a needle. (The second line is not entirely clear.)
50. The base world is a madwoman who, at the turn of each month, hangs an amulet round her neck; do not take her for lawful food.
51. I look for a place to flee the people of the age and find none; there is no safety in its Iraq (its distance), no release in its release.
52. Neither does the Hijaz hold one back, nor is the Yemen fortunate; Damascus and al-Shahbâ (Aleppo) too are ill-omened with ill-omened stars.
53. Our days are like a horse that has taken the bit between its teeth; or a camel without a halter that heeds neither command nor urging.
54. The days are like a drunk out of his senses who always goes crooked; let me make the great sphere his cup and the earth his table. (The end of the line is not entirely clear.)
55. It knows neither right nor proof, it understands nothing of keeping faith; do not be deceived by time, for many a king and beggar was deceived.
56. It has taken and given back thousands like you and me; I wonder, did fortune make you a promise of your own?
57. O fair ones, who have been given from God a sweet nature, a delicate body and a gracious face!
58. Make it precious with praiseworthy character; for bad habits rob even beauty of its worth.
59. The old hag of the world secretly blackens her hands to smear them on the white faces of the fair.
60. Without regard for living or dead, she throws the hidden faults of people before open eyes moment by moment.
61. From such tale-bearing it is known that she is a woman; and now men are making her seem a mercy.
62. Beside this rooster poem the lamb remains a tender thing; two clever men wrote one each. (The couplet is unclear as read in the thesis.)
Literary and Historical Commentary
The Blind Poet's Rooster
"Dîkiyye" in the title means rooster poem, and the poem is attributed to Abu'l-Alâ al-Ma'arrî, the blind, sceptical and pessimistic poet-philosopher who lived in Syria in the eleventh century. Havva Tok Yıldız records that Cûdî translated many poems by al-Ma'arrî and wrote continuations to some of them. Since the Arabic original is not given in the thesis, how faithful the translation is to its source cannot be checked here; the sixty-two-couplet Turkish text looks less like a translation than a rewriting that expands the original's subject.
The first part of the poem praises the rooster as a muezzin. The rooster is an angel of the Trumpet raising the dead of sleep; when it crows it is as if the muezzin of Mecca, Abû Mahdhûra, and the muezzin of Medina, Bilâl, had met, and it answers the rooster that crows at the Throne of the Merciful. The rooster is then described as the head of a family: it never eats a grain alone, it calls its family to the grain it finds in times of dearth, it trades a pearl for a grain and is still counted the winner, it keeps justice among its wives. The judgements in this part on the family and the order between men and women carry the outlook of the period and tradition in which the poem was written. The thirtieth couplet, saying that the Almighty Dyer has dyed the rooster's many-coloured robe so that "it never goes out of fashion", brings an everyday word into the old poetry; the "korrrrk" of the twenty-sixth couplet is likewise an imitative sound seldom seen in classical verse.
A Pessimistic Close
After the thirty-fourth couplet the poem moves to grief for the slaughtered rooster and from there to a debate on the hereafter: do animals have a share in the afterlife? The leaders of the communities say different things on this, and generations pass before the quarrel ends. After the forty-third couplet the poem turns to al-Ma'arrî's well-known pessimism. The world is a madwoman wearing an amulet, an old hag who blackens the faces of the fair; there is no place to flee from people, and the fifty-second couplet says this by playing on place names: the Hijaz does not hold one back, the Yemen is not fortunate, Damascus and al-Shahbâ are ill-omened. The last couplets counsel the fair to beautify themselves with good character; the closing couplet itself has not yielded to the thesis's reading.
Bibliography
- Havva Tok Yıldız, Merzifonlu İbrâhîm Cûdî Dîvânı (İnceleme-Metin-Sözlük) [1b-43a], Master's thesis, Ondokuz Mayıs University, Samsun 2017, pp. 57-62 (poem no. 45; manuscript fol. 18a-19b); introduction p. 8. http://libra.omu.edu.tr/tezler/116853.pdf
Online sources
