Original Ottoman Turkish Text

Metre: mef‘ūlü fā‘ilātü mefā‘īlü fā‘ilün

Gün yüzine ṭutup n’ider ol māh-rū niḳāb
Bilür ki pertevinden anuñ ḫod yanar ḥicāb
Ḫāk-i vücūdumuzda tecellīler itdügüñ
Pes mihr pertevinüñ olur maẓharı türāb
Her aḫşama yaḳın yüce yirlere çıḳduġı
Şāyed ḳaşuñ hilālini görem dir āftāb
La‘l-i lebüñden ayru düşen teşneler midür
Āvāreler ki gösterür ey māh-rū şarāb
Di ġamzesine gül yüzi nāzük durur Münīr
Pejmürde itmesün aña s̱ıḳlet virüp bu ḫᵛāb

In English

1. What will that moon-faced one do by holding a veil over his sun-like face; he knows that the veil (and modesty) burns anyway from its light.

2. Since you manifest yourself in the dust of our being, the place where the sun's light appears is the dust.

3. Every day toward evening the sun climbs to high places; it says, "Perhaps I shall see the new moon of your eyebrow."

4. O moon-faced one, are those wanderers that the wine shows (at the banquet) the thirsty ones who have fallen away from your ruby lips?

5. O Münîr, tell his glance: his rose face is delicate; let this sleep not weigh on it and crumple it.

Literary and Historical Commentary

Structure of the Poem

The poem is a five-couplet Turkish ghazal (gazel) and is the sixteenth of the Turkish ghazals in the edition (tg 16). The metre is "mef‘ûlü fâ‘ilâtü mefâ‘îlü fâ‘ilün". The ghazal has no refrain (redif); the rhyme is the sound "-āb": niḳāb, ḥicāb, türāb, āftāb, şarāb, ḫᵛāb. The poem is found in the Vatican (VT 102a), Vienna (VY 82b) and Istanbul University (Ü 20b) manuscripts, and also in the anthologies of Pervâne Bey (PB 62b) and Nazmî of Edirne (MN 41a). According to the apparatus, in PB the second line of the opening couplet is entirely different: "Devrān-ı ġamdan olur idi ḥālümüz ḫarāb" (our state would be ruined by the turning of sorrow). In this reading the opening couplet describes the pain that the veiled face gives the lover. To whom and when it was written is not known.

Meaning and Figures of Speech

The main image of the ghazal is the sun and light. In the opening couplet (matla) the beloved's face resembles the sun, and the veil is not enough to cover this sun, for the sun's light burns the curtain. The word "ḥicāb" in its dictionary sense means both "curtain, covering" and "shame, modesty". With this double meaning the couplet can be read in two ways: the curtain burns in the light of the face, or the beloved's shyness melts in the fire of his own beauty. This double entendre (tevriye) is our own observation.

The second couplet carries a Sufi colouring. The word "tecellī" in its dictionary sense means coming into view, appearing, and in Sufism it describes divine beauty appearing in created things. From the beloved's manifesting himself in the dust of our being, the poet draws the conclusion that the sun's light too appears in the dust. Thus the dust, the lowliest thing, becomes the "maẓhar", the place of appearance, of the sun. The dust here also brings to mind the lover's humility.

The third couplet is a fine poetic aetiology (hüsn-i talil). Toward evening the sun's light remains only on the hilltops and high places; the poet explains this by the sun's climbing to the heights to see the new moon of the beloved's eyebrow. And since the new moon is seen at evening on the western horizon, the sun's waiting is well placed. This last link is our own inference.

The fourth couplet is not entirely clear and can be read in two ways: the dizzy wanderers whom the wine brings to the banquet are the thirsty ones fallen away from the beloved's lips, or the bubbles and visions that the wine in the cup shows are likened to these thirsty ones. The likeness between ruby lips and red wine is a well-known image of divan poetry.

In the pen-name couplet the poet addresses the glance (ġamze). In divan poetry the beloved's eye is sleepy and languid; the poet fears that this sleep will weigh down and crumple the rose face. "Pejmürde" in its dictionary sense means faded, crumpled, and it also brings to mind the withering of the rose.

Bibliography

Online sources