Original Ottoman Turkish Text

Metre: fā‘ilātün fā‘ilātün fā‘ilün

Ġonca-veş dil-teng idüp gül zārını
Ḫāra degşürmiş durur gül-zārını
Mey-gede küncini terk itmezdi hīc
Bilse zāhid mey-fürūş esrārını
Müşterīler naḳd-i cān virdügidür
Germ iden sen dil-berüñ bāzārını
Gözlerüñden şākirüz ġāyetde kim
Tīzcek öldürmek diler bīmārını
Der-miyān olsun Münīrī saña cān
Ḳılca bilürseñ miyānı varını

In English

1. Like a rosebud, the narrow-mouthed beloved has wrung the heart of the one who laments for the rose (the nightingale) and turned his rose garden into thorns. (The subject of the line is not stated outright; our reading.)

2. If the ascetic knew the secrets of the wine-seller, he would never leave the corner of the tavern.

3. O heart-stealer, what heats up your market is the customers paying in the coin of their souls (giving their lives in place of cash).

4. We are deeply grateful to your eyes, for they wish to kill their sick quickly (they do not make them suffer long).

5. Münîrî, if you know even a hair's worth about whether that waist exists, let your soul be staked for it. ("Der-miyân" calls up both "set in the middle, staked" and "at the waist"; the beloved's waist is as thin as a hair, all but non-existent.)

Literary and Historical Commentary

Structure of the Poem

This is a five-couplet Turkish ghazal, the three hundred and fourth of the Turkish ghazals in the edition (tg 304). The metre is "fā‘ilātün fā‘ilātün fā‘ilün". In the list of refrains in his introduction Ersoy gives the refrain of this ghazal as "-ını"; the rhyme rests on the sound "-ār": zār, gül-zār, esrār, bāzār, bīmār and var. The ghazal is found in all three manuscripts of the divan (VT 170a, VY 147a, Ü 60a). In the first couplet the Istanbul manuscript reads "bāzārını" for "gül zārını", and for "degşürmiş" a form "-apşurmış" whose first letter could not be printed in the edition. It is not known for whom or when it was written.

Meaning and Figures of Speech

The ghazal's most striking device is in the opening couplet. "Gül zārını" (the lament of, or for, the rose) at the end of the first line and "gül-zārını" (its rose garden) at the end of the second are identical in spelling and pronunciation but different in meaning. This is a full pun (cinas) built from two words (our observation). The Kubbealtı Lugatı explains the epithet "dil-teng" as heart-straitened, grieved, oppressed, and quotes Mesîhî's line "Ben bülbülü dil-teng eden ol gonca-dehandır". In the line of Mesîhî (d. 1512), whom Ersoy, on the evidence of the nazire anthologies, counts among the poets to whom Münîrî wrote response poems (nazire), it is likewise the bud-mouthed beloved who wrings the nightingale's heart; this likeness suggests that the hidden subject of the opening couplet is the beloved and that the one who laments for the rose is the nightingale (our reading). The beloved has both wrung the nightingale's heart and turned its garden into a thicket of thorns.

The second couplet is a familiar statement of the contrast between the libertine (rind) and the ascetic (zâhid). The Kubbealtı explains "mey-fürûş" as wine-seller, tavern-keeper, and quotes Necâtî Bey's couplet beginning "Ey pîr-i mey-fürûş". The ascetic keeps away from the tavern, but this keeping away comes from ignorance; if he knew the wine-seller's secret he would never leave its corner.

The third couplet is built from the words of trade: customer, cash, market and heating up the market. The Kubbealtı gives one sense of "müşteri" as buyer, one who is eager for something. In the market of the beloved's beauty the price is paid in souls; what keeps the market lively is the lovers paying this price without hesitation. In the fourth couplet the beloved's eyes are praised for killing their sick quickly. This is a subtle irony: in the lover's eyes even the beloved's cruelty counts as a kindness, for it spares him long torment.

The pen-name couplet rests on the idea of the slender waist. The Kubbealtı gives "meyan – miyan" the senses of interval, the middle of a thing, and the place where a belt is tied, the waist; Mihrî Hatun's line "ten de meyânın bağladı" is also an example in this entry. Münîrî places "der-miyān" (in the middle, staked) beside "miyān" (waist). The beloved's waist is as thin as a hair; for one who knows even a hair's worth of its existence, the soul is worth staking. The words "kılca" and "miyān" together also hint that the waist is as fine as a hair (our reading).

Bibliography

Online sources