Original Ottoman Turkish Text

Metre: fā‘ilātün fā‘ilātün fā‘ilātün fā‘ilün

Gūyiyā Yūnusdur ey dil ḫüsrev-i ḫāver güneş
Māhī-i şebden ki ḳurtulmış durur gider güneş
Yā ḫo Yūsufdur ki pīrāhen-derīde her ṣabāḥ
Meh Züleyḫāsı elinden ḳurtulup ḳaçar güneş
Gösterüp yine yed-i beyżā Kelīmullāh gibi
Oldı bu vech ile şöyle rūşen ü enver güneş
Ḥażret-i nūr-ı Muḥammed tīġini urduġıçün
Ṭutdı mülk-i ‘ālemi bī-rezm ü bī-leşker güneş
Gül-şen-i nīlūferīden yaña geldükçe müdām
Dāmen-i gerdūn ile ḫurmā-yı zer döker güneş
Kişver-i Hindi ser-ā-ser ṣubḥ-dem fetḥ eyleyüp
Çekdi nūrānī ‘alemler ejdehā-peyker güneş
Şöyle kim zenbūr-vār uşmışdur aña ẕerreler
Āsmānda ṭut ki bir gömeç ‘aseldür ter güneş
Gerçi kim cām-ı muṣaffādur göñül gītī-nümā
Gūyiyā bir çeşmedür gökden çıḳar ḳaynar güneş
Zevraḳ-ı sīmīn ile baḥr-i felekde seyr idüp
Devşirür ta‘cīl ile her ṣubḥ nīlūfer güneş
Ṭoldurup ḳand ü nebāt ile cihān mülkin tamām
Gūyiyā eflāki ḳıldı kelle-i şekker güneş
Şöyle sīmīn mirvaḥa düzüp gelür her ṣubḥ-dem
Şekkeristān-ı felekden zer-mekes sürer güneş
Gerçi tennūr-ı felekde bir külīçedür velī
Virüp anuñla ġıdā maḫlūḳı hep besler güneş
Sāġar-ı ṣahbā çeker beñzer ki mest olup müdām
Geh yürür dīvār ṭutup geh yire düşer güneş
Gerçi ṭolmışdı ḳanādīl ile bu heft ṣavma‘a
Geldi külline ḳomadı iḥtiyāc u fer güneş
Gezdürür günde cihānı kimse yetürmez behā
Ḳanda buldı bilmezem bu vech ile gevher güneş
Ḫırmen-i māhı ser-ā-ser oda urmışdur tamām
Ṣūretā gerçi görinür şöyle bir aḫker güneş
Gürg-i çarḫ-ı kej-revüñ rūbehligin gördügiçün
Pençesi altında ḳor mānend-i şīr-i ner güneş
Geldi zerrīn miġfer ile nūrdan giyüp zırıh
Saġ u ṣolına ḥamāyil ḳıluban ḫancer güneş
Gūş-vār-ı dehre bir dürr-i yetīm olduġıçün
N’ola didiyse ‘Aṭāyī k’oldı dür-perver güneş
Merd iken çābük-süvār ol nūrdan şalvār ile
Bellüsüz k’Aḥmed neden dir aña bī-mīzer güneş
Şeb sipendin n’ola yaḳsa çeşm-i bed def‘iyiçün
Micmer-i fīrūza gün içre urup āẕer güneş
Ḫüsrev-i taḫt-ı zeberceddür ki biñ ta‘ẓīm ile
Geydi zer-beft aṭlas u urundı tāc-ı zer güneş
Şāhid-i meh kendinüñ maḥbūbı olduġıyiçün
Nūrdan dībāyile gündüz yüzin örter güneş
Pādşāh-ı berr ü baḥr anuñçün oldı ġālibā
Ḳāni‘-i fermān-ı Ḥaḳdur merd-i ḫuşk ü ter güneş
Günde gerçi ‘āleme ‘arż-ı cemāl ider gelüp
Maṭla‘-ı ṣubḥ-ı sa‘ādetden niḳāb açar güneş
Dönmek içün nev-‘arūsa şöyle dehr-i pīre-zen
Nūrdan dībā ider günde aña mi‘cer güneş
Bilmezem göñlüm gibi yā Rab neden āvāredür
Degzinür ṭurmaz cihān mülkini ser-tā-ser güneş
Hīc ḫālī görmedüm bir derd-i serden anı da
Her ne deñlü oldı ise cām-ı İskender güneş
Teşne-i āb-ı zülāl-i vaṣl-ı yār içün yine
Gökde tefsīr itmek ister ṣūre-i kevs̱er güneş
Ṣubḥ-ı ṣādıḳ nerd-i bānın gösterür yine didüm
Ġālibā āyīne-i gītī-nümā aṣar güneş
Bī-vefādur çarḫ-ı kec-reftār u dūnı gördi bes
Anuñ içündür ciger-sūz olduġı eks̱er güneş
Geh kül ider kend’özin geh āteş-i ter gösterür
Ḥoḳḳa-bāz-ı dehrdür kim od ile oynar güneş
Ben güneş fikrini iderken zebān-ı ḥāl ile
Gördüm oḳur ṭurmayup bu şi‘ri hep ez-ber güneş
Nūr-ı Aḥmedsin kim olur ḥüsnüñe çāker güneş
Gerçi ‘Īsā gibi günde göklere aġar güneş
Zülfüñ altında görünce ḫaddüñi didi göñül
Ṭarf-ı maġribden mi ṭoġar yoḫsa nīk-aḫter güneş
Āteş-i mihr-i ruḫuñla oda düşelden berü
Tābe içre dānedür kim raḳṣ urur oynar güneş
Sünbül-i zülfüñi gördi deste olmışdur ṭurur
Ṣubḥ-dem gelmişdür altun til ile ṣarar güneş
Mihr-i ruḫsāruñı ben sīnemde pinhān eyledüm
Örtünülmez gerçi kim balçıġ ile dirler güneş
Böyle kim ‘arż-ı cemāl itmezsin ey meh-rū bize
Ṭoġmaz idüñ üstümüze ġālib olsañ ger güneş
Mihr-i ruḫsāruñla gören bu hilāl ebrūları
Dir hilāl altında yā Rab bilmezem n’eyler güneş
Görüp engüşt-i Muḥammed gibi bu reng mu‘cizin
‘Āleme geldükçe ṭurmaz vehm idüp ḳaçar güneş
Günde göñlüm baña ‘ışḳa tevbe it dir dir bunı
Ḫod bilürsin ṭarf-ı maġribden ṭulū‘ eyler güneş
Gerçi bir kūçesini ister cihānda cā-be-cā
Her bacadan anuñ içün ṣarḳınup iner güneş
Mihr-i ḥüsnüñden nişān vardur yüzinde kim müdām
Gösterürken āşkārā kend’özin gizler güneş
Ġamze-i ḫūn-rīzüñ ucından ciger-ḫūn olmaġın
Şöyle kim nā-çār olupdur ḫancere düşer güneş
Ḥüsnüñüñ ḥayrānı olduġıçün ey Yūsuf-cemāl
Ṭutar elinde Züleyḫā-veş turunc-ı zer güneş
Seyr ider ser-pā-bürehne günde mülk-i ‘ālemi
Varlıġın ḫāk itdi yoluñda ḳalender-ser güneş
Kendinüñ māhiyyetin bilür ḳatuñda bilürem
Beñzedürsem de yüzüñe eylemez bāver güneş
Ḫᵛāb-geh olalı çeşm-i nergisüñe yāsemīn
Sünbül-i zülfüñe oldı bāliş ü pister güneş
Germ olup ḳaṣr-ı zeberced üzre la‘lüñ yādına
Nūş ider cām-ı muraṣṣa‘dan ṭolu sāġar güneş
Burḳa‘ ile gördügiçün āftāb-ı ḥüsnüñi
Saña öykünür ki her gözden yüzin ṣaḳlar güneş
Yüzüñi göster ki bir āyīnedür gītī-nümā
Luṭf it olsun bārī mihr-i ḥüsnüñe maẓhar güneş
Encüm-i eşküm ḥisābın bilmek isterse yazup
Çekmesün zaḫmet diñ aña düzmesün mısṭar güneş
Gül-sitān-ı vuṣlat-ı yāre henūz irdüm dimez
Ol hevāda dökmiş iken küll-i bāl ü per güneş
Bilmezem mihr-i cemālüñ şevḳına mıdur ya ḫod
Odlara sūz-ı dil içün mi düşüp yanar güneş
Āftāb içre görinen ẕerreler ṣanma Münīr
Ḫurde-i zerdür ki yār içün nis̱ār ider güneş
Baña cevr idersin ol şehden ḥaẕer ḳılmaz mısın
Kim yasaḳ u heybetinden ṭurmadan ditrer güneş
Ḥażret-i şāh-ı cihān ya‘nī ki sulṭān Bāyezīd
İşiginde bendedür der-bān ‘aṣā dutar güneş
Āteş-i ḫışmından itmese ḥaẕer bu vech ile
Baġlamazdı āsmānda şekl-i ḫākister güneş
Her ne deñlü ẕerre gün ḳatında kemter şey’ ise
Ẕerre-i ḫāk-i derinde şöyledür kemter güneş
Ḫüsrevā vaṣf-ı cemīlüñ yazmaġa ser-tā-ḳadem
Heft cild-i āsmānı eyledi defter güneş
Ḫayme-i ḳadr-i refī‘uñda olupdur fī’l-mes̱el
Āsmān-ı çārüm üzre kille-i çāder güneş
Pādşāh-ı heft kişversin ki çeşm-i feyżüñe
Ṣanki gök bir beyżadur olmış aña aṣfer güneş
Kūh-ı ḳāf-ı ḥaşmetüñe şāyed irişem diyü
Eyledi sī-murġ-ı ẕāta himmetin şeh-per güneş
Aṭlas-ı zer-beft-i çarḫ olmaġa cübbe ḳadrüñe
Oldı ta‘ẓīm içün aña nūrdan astar güneş
Mūsī-i ‘İmrān gibi ḫaṣmuñı ḳılmaġa helāk
Geh ‘aṣāsın ‘arż ider geh gösterür ejder güneş
Ay işigüñde ġulām olsa ‘aceb mi dāġ-dār
Ḫādim-i ḫāk-i derüñdür ad ile cevher güneş
Ḫıdmetüñe ṣubḥ-dem yetişmek içün yügürüp
Geldi ta‘cīl ile oldı derleyüp aḥmer güneş
Seyr-i berr ü baḥr idüp deryā yüzinden gelmegin
Ḫıdmetüñe tuḥfe algeldi turunc-ı zer güneş
Kendü var iken rikābuña meh añılduġıçün
Ḥasret ü reşk ile itdi ḳāmetin çenber güneş
Devleti var ise olsun sözüñe ‘ālem muṭī‘
Oldı rūşen-dil anuñçün k’oldı fermān-ber güneş
Meclis-i ḫāṣuña bilür lāyıḳ olmaduġını
Da‘vet olursa da gelmez eylemez bāver güneş
Düşmenüñe kendüden nā-çār ref‘ irdügiçün
Şöyle ser-gerdān olupdur dem-be-dem mużṭar güneş
Na‘l-i sümm-i esbüñe irişmegin rūy-ı zemīn
Kend’özin zīr ü zeber idüp olur aġber güneş
Ṭās-ı ḥammām itmek içün sen şehe altūndan
Oldı biñ cidd ile her dem cehd idüp zer-ger güneş
İki sözde germ olup bir şöyle maṭla‘ dir isem
‘Ayb ola mı māh-ı nev gibi n’ola artar güneş
Çün hilāl-i na‘l-i esbüñden bulupdur fer güneş
Tā ebed virür cihāna zīnet ü zīver güneş
Na‘l-i esbüñ mīḫına reşk iletür kevkeb belī
Şemse-i eyvānuña lā-büd ḥased ider güneş
Āstānuña yüzin süriyü geçer ḫāk olup
Her ne deñlü oldısa sulṭān-ı baḥr ü ber güneş
Biñ disün ḳaṣr-ı çehārüm üzre yüz urmaġ ile
Ḥalḳa-i ‘ulyā ḳapuñla olımaz hem-ser güneş
Ḫūṭbe oḳursa ‘aceb mi yüce aduña müdām
İdinüp çarḫ-ı berīni kendüye minber güneş
Gerd-i na‘l-i sümm-i esbüñden kim iltür bād-ı ṣubḥ
Gāh idinür tūtyā-yı çeşm ü geh efser güneş
Bikr yetişmek içün dāmād-ı bezmüñe senüñ
Nev-‘arūs-ı Zühreye günde ṭutar mi‘cer güneş
Gerd-i rāh-ı bād-pāyuñ ḳanda kim ‘azm eyleye
Tīġin alup çignine olur revān reh-ber güneş
Tīġuña kesmekde ḫod yoḳ āftābuñ nisbeti
Ġālibā rūşen-dil olmaḳda olur maẓhar güneş
Ḫāk-i dergāhuñ ḳatında ẕerreden kemdür belī
Anuñ içün düşmemişdür her göze manẓar güneş
Günde tīġ-i zer-nişān ile gelür cevlān idüp
Ḫaṣmuñ ister pehlevān-ı künbed-i aḥḍar güneş
Şemse-i ḳadr-i refī‘uñ görsene bedr-i dücā
Görmek isterse güneşden daḫı bālā-ter güneş
‘Ayn-ı āb-ı kevs̱er izüñ tozına günde irer
Çeşme-i cān gibi olsa n’ola cān-perver güneş
Baḥr-i ‘ışḳuñdan naṣīb almaduġı bir ẕerrece
Ḫiffeti olmaġ ilendür şöyle bī-lenger güneş
Gerd-i rāhuñ ẕerresinüñ rütbetin bulmış degül
Her ne deñlü görinürse ẓāhirā ber-ter güneş
Āstān-ı āsmān-ḳadrüñ kim olmışdur aña
Encüm-i seyyāre kemter ḫāk ü ḫāk-i der güneş
Āftāb-ı ṭal‘atuñla ṭoldı bu nüh zāviye
Mihr-i ḥüsnüñle n’ola olsa yedi kişver güneş
‘Ayn-ı kevs̱er ḫāk-i pāyüñe yüzini sürmegin
Ḫūb idi oldı bu vech ile daḫı ḫoş-ter güneş
İḫtiṣār itsem du‘āyile ‘aceb mi medḥüñi
Bilürem nāzük mizāca derd-i ser eyler güneş
Ḳubbe-i çārüm yüzinden ṣad hezār i‘zāz ile
Tā ki bu ṭāḳ-ı zebercedden gelüp aşar güneş
Günde nūrānī niḳāb ile ḳılup ‘arż-ı cemāl
Tā ki ẓulmānī ḥicābı ref‘ idüp sürer güneş
Ḳāyim olduḳça zemīn ü dem-be-dem döndükçe çarḫ
Lācverdī ḳubbeye tā kim çıḳup iner güneş
Giceler zeyn olduġınca gül-şen-i nīlūferī
Gül-sitān-ı çarḫa geldükçe gül-i aḥmer güneş
Ṭurduġınca ‘arş u ferş ü levḥ ü kürsī vü ḳalem
Olduġınca encüm ile tā dem-i maḥşer güneş
Pādşāh-ı ẓıll-i Ḥaḳsın Ḥaḳ vücūduñ ẓıllini
Dāyim itsün kim vücūduñdur żiyā-güster güneş

In English

1. O heart, the sun, sovereign of the east, is like Jonah escaping from the fish of the night. (The prophet Jonah's deliverance from the belly of the fish is likened to the sun's emergence from the darkness of night.)

2. Or the sun is Joseph, who every morning, his shirt torn, escapes from the hands of the moon, his Zuleykha, and flees. (An allusion to the story of Zuleykha tearing Joseph's shirt; the moon becomes Zuleykha, left behind the sun by day.)

3. Because the sun, like Moses who spoke with God, again showed its white hand, it became so bright and radiant. ("Yed-i beyzâ", the white hand, is the miracle of Moses' hand coming out of his bosom shining white.)

4. Because the sun struck with the sword of the light of Muhammad, it seized the dominion of the world without battle and without an army.

5. As the sun comes toward the lotus-coloured rose garden, that is, the sky, it constantly scatters golden dates from the skirt of heaven.

6. At dawn the sun conquered the land of India from end to end and raised dragon-shaped standards of light. (India here evokes the darkness of night; the sun's rays are likened to standards.)

7. The motes have swarmed about it like bees; think of the sun as a fresh honeycomb in the sky. ("Gömeç" is the old Turkish word for honeycomb.)

8. Though the heart is a pure, clear cup that shows the world, the sun is like a spring that issues from the sky and wells up. (The line can also be read as "the sun is a pure, world-showing cup"; the couplet can be understood in two ways.)

9. The sun travels the sea of heaven in a silver boat and every morning hastily gathers the lotuses. (The fading of the stars at daybreak seems to be described as the sun gathering lotuses.)

10. The sun filled the dominion of the world from end to end with cane sugar and rock candy and turned the heavens, as it were, into a sugarloaf.

11. Every morning the sun comes with a silver fan it has made and drives the golden flies from the sugar-store of the sky. ("Mirvaḥa" means fan, "mekes" fly.)

12. Though the sun is a lump in the oven of heaven, with it it gives nourishment and feeds all creatures. ("Külīçe" in its dictionary sense means both a small round loaf and an ingot of metal; the senses of bread and gold are thought of together.)

13. The sun seems to have drunk cup after cup of wine and grown drunk; now it walks holding on to the walls, now it falls to the ground. (Sunlight striking walls and falling on the ground is likened to a drunkard's gait.)

14. Though these seven cloisters, that is, the seven heavens, were filled with lamps, the sun came and left none of them either need or splendour.

15. The sun carries a jewel round the world all day and no one can put a price on it; where it found such a jewel, I do not know.

16. The sun has set the moon's threshing floor on fire from end to end; to the eye, though, it looks like a glowing ember.

17. Having seen the fox-like cunning of the wolf of the crooked-moving sphere, the sun puts it under its paw like a male lion.

18. The sun came wearing a golden helmet and a coat of mail of light, with daggers hung at its right and left.

19. Since the sun is a matchless pearl fit to be an earring for the ear of time, is it any wonder that Atâyî called it "nourisher of pearls"? ("Dürr-i yetīm" is a single, matchless pearl.)

20. While the sun is a manly, nimble horseman in trousers of light, it is not clear why Ahmed calls it "without a loincloth". ("Mīzer" in its dictionary sense is a cloth tied at the waist, a futa; the word "bellüsüz" has been understood as "it is not clear", and it may also connect with "bel", waist. The first word of the second line cannot be resolved with certainty.)

21. What if the night burns rue seed against the evil eye; by day the sun puts fire in a turquoise censer. (The sky becomes a turquoise censer and the sun its fire.)

22. The sun is the sovereign of the emerald throne; with a thousand marks of respect it put on gold-woven satin and set on a golden crown.

23. Since the moon-beauty is its own beloved, the sun covers her face by day with a silk cloth of light. (A fanciful explanation of why the moon is not seen by day.)

24. It seems the sun became king of lands and seas because, as a man content with dry and wet alike, it submitted to God's command.

25. Though the sun comes every day and displays its beauty to the world, it lifts its veil from the rising place of the morning of felicity.

26. So that this old crone of a world may put on the guise of a young bride, every day the sun makes her a silk headscarf of light. ("Mi‘cer" in its dictionary sense is a woman's headscarf.)

27. O Lord, why is the sun a wanderer like my heart? It never rests, roaming the dominion of the world from end to end. ("Degzinmek" is the old Turkish for roaming about.)

28. Though the sun be as great as the cup of Alexander, I have never seen it free of a headache either. ("Derd-i ser" is the headache that comes from drink.)

29. Thirsting for the sweet water of union with the beloved, the sun once more wishes to expound the sura of Kevser in the sky.

30. I said, "True dawn is showing its ladder again"; it seems the sun is hanging up the world-showing mirror. ("Nerd-i bān" is "nerdübān", ladder, in its dictionary sense.)

31. The crooked-turning sphere is faithless; the sun has seen its baseness, and that is why it is so often heart-scorched. ("Dūn" in its dictionary sense means base; it also sounds like "dün", which in old Turkish means night.)

32. The sun now turns itself to ash, now shows a fresh fire; it is the juggler of the world, who plays with fire.

33. While I was thinking of the sun in the language of its state, I saw that the sun was reciting this poem by heart, from beginning to end, without pause. ("Ez-ber" can be read both as "by heart" and as the Persian "from above".)

34. You are the light of Ahmed, to whose beauty the sun becomes a servant; though the sun rises to the heavens every day like Jesus. (An allusion to the ascension of Jesus.)

35. Seeing your cheek beneath your locks, the heart said: Is the sun rising from the west, or is this an auspicious star?

36. Ever since it caught fire from the sun of your cheek, the sun leaps and dances like a grain in a pan. ("Mihr" in its dictionary sense means both the sun and love. In the VY manuscript "göyner", that is, burns, stands in place of "oynar".)

37. The sun saw the hyacinth of your hair standing gathered in a bunch; at dawn it has come to bind it with golden thread.

38. I hid the sun of your cheek in my breast; though they say "the sun cannot be plastered over with mud". (The line says "cannot be covered"; this old form of the proverb is an example of irsal-i mesel, the use of a proverb.)

39. O moon-face, you do not show us your beauty this way; had you prevailed over the sun you would not rise upon us. (The couplet is not clear; the second line can also be read as "O sun, had you prevailed you would not rise upon us".)

40. Whoever sees these crescent brows with the sun of your cheek says: O Lord, I do not know what the sun is doing beneath the crescent.

41. Seeing this coloured miracle like the finger of Muhammad, the sun takes fright whenever it comes into the world and flees without pause. (An allusion to the miracle in which the moon is related to have been split in two; a likeness is drawn between the beloved's brow and the finger.)

42. Every day my heart keeps telling me, "Repent of love"; you yourself know that the sun rises from the west. (The sun rising in the west is counted among the signs of the Last Day; the poet implies that his repentance will come only then.)

43. Because the sun seeks the beloved's street here and there in the world, it leans down and descends through every chimney.

44. On the sun's face there is a trace of the sun of your beauty; for this reason, even while it shows itself openly, it constantly hides.

45. Its heart bleeding from the point of your bloodshedding glance, the sun, helpless, falls upon the dagger.

46. O you with the beauty of Joseph, because the sun is enraptured by your beauty it holds a golden citron in its hand like Zuleykha. (An allusion to the story of the women of Egypt who, on seeing Joseph, cut their hands instead of the citrons they held.)

47. Bareheaded and barefoot the sun roams the dominion of the world every day; that kalender-headed one has turned its being to dust on your road.

48. The sun knows its own worth in your presence, I know; even if I liken it to your face, it does not believe it.

49. Since the jasmine became a sleeping place for your narcissus eye, the sun has become pillow and bed for the hyacinth of your hair.

50. Growing warm upon the emerald pavilion, the sun recalls your ruby lip and drinks a brimming cup from the jewelled goblet.

51. Because the sun saw the sun of your beauty veiled, it imitates you and hides its face from every eye.

52. Show your face, it is a world-showing mirror; be gracious, so that at least the sun may be favoured with the sun of your beauty.

53. If the sun wants to write down and know the count of the stars of my tears, tell it: let the sun not trouble itself, let it not prepare a ruling board. ("Mısṭar" in its dictionary sense is the ruled board used to keep lines straight in writing.)

54. Though in that air, in that longing, the sun has shed all its wings and feathers, it still does not say, "I have reached the rose garden of union with the beloved". ("Hevā" in its dictionary sense means both air and desire.)

55. Whether it is from longing for the sun of your beauty, or for the burning of its heart, that the sun falls into the fire and burns, I do not know.

56. O Münîr, do not take the motes seen in the sunlight for motes; they are small coins of gold that the sun scatters for the beloved.

57. You do me wrong; do you not beware of that king before whose command and majesty the sun trembles without pause? ("Yasak" is old Turkish for command, law.)

58. That king is His Majesty the king of the world, that is, Sultan Bayezid; at his threshold the sun is a slave, a doorkeeper holding a staff.

59. Had the sun not been so wary of the fire of his wrath, it would not have taken on the shape of ash in the sky.

60. As worthless as a mote is beside the sun, so worthless is the sun beside a mote of the dust of his door.

61. O sovereign, to write your fine qualities from head to foot, the sun has made the seven volumes of heaven into a notebook.

62. In the tent of your lofty dignity the sun has, so to speak, become the finial of the tent above the fourth heaven. ("Kille" in its dictionary sense is the top of a tent; in the old picture of the heavens the sun sits in the fourth heaven.)

63. You are the king of the seven climes; in your bountiful eye the sky is like an egg, and the sun has become its yolk.

64. Hoping it might perhaps reach the Mount Kaf of your majesty, the sun made its aspiration into wings for the Simurgh itself. (The legendary bird Simurgh is thought to live on Mount Kaf.)

65. So that the gold-woven satin of heaven might be a robe for your dignity, the sun out of reverence became its lining of light.

66. Like Moses son of Imran, to destroy your enemy the sun now displays its staff, now the dragon.

67. Is it any wonder if the moon is a branded slave at your threshold? The sun too, though it is called a jewel, is a servant of the dust of your door. (The spots of the moon are likened to the brand put on slaves.)

68. To reach your service at dawn the sun came running in haste, and grew sweaty and crimson.

69. Having roamed lands and seas and come over the face of the sea, the sun brought a golden citron as a gift for your service.

70. Because the moon is likened to your stirrup while the sun itself is there, the sun in longing and envy bent its stature like a hoop. (The stirrup resembles a crescent.)

71. Let all who have fortune submit to your word; the sun too, because it obeys your command, has become bright of heart. (The line can also be read as "if he has fortune, let the world submit to your word".)

72. The sun knows it is not worthy of your private assembly; even if invited it does not come and does not believe the invitation.

73. Because it saw its enemy helplessly removed from it, the sun has become dizzy like this and is restless every moment. (The couplet is not clear; the meaning of the first line is not certain.)

74. Because the shoe of your horse's hoof touches the face of the earth, the sun turns itself upside down and becomes covered in dust. ("Aġber" in its dictionary sense means dust-coloured, dusty.)

75. To make a bath bowl of gold for you, the king, the sun with a thousand efforts toils every moment and has become a goldsmith.

76. If, warming to my words, I speak a matla thus, will it be a fault? What if the sun grows like the new moon? (Here the poet announces that he will speak a new matla, an opening couplet.)

77. Since the sun has gained its lustre from the crescent of your horse's shoe, it gives the world ornament and adornment for ever.

78. Indeed, the star envies the nail of your horse's shoe; the sun too must surely envy the sunburst ornament of your hall. ("Şemse" in its dictionary sense is a sun-shaped ornament, a rosette; the sun envies the ornament that bears its own name.)

79. However great the sun may be as sultan of land and sea, it rubs its face on your threshold and passes as dust.

80. Let the sun boast a thousand times of rubbing its face upon its pavilion in the fourth heaven; it still cannot be the equal of the high ring on your door.

81. Is it any wonder if the sun, taking the lofty heavens as its pulpit, constantly reads the Friday sermon (hutbe) in your exalted name?

82. The dust of your horse's shoe that the dawn wind brings, the sun takes now as collyrium for its eyes, now as a crown.

83. So that Venus may come as a virgin to the bridegroom of your assembly, every day the sun holds a veil over that young bride. (Venus not being seen by day is explained by the sun's covering her.)

84. Wherever the road dust of your wind-footed horse turns, the sun takes its sword on its shoulder and goes before it as a guide.

85. In cutting, the sun has nothing in common with your sword; it seems it is favoured to resemble it only in brightness of heart.

86. Indeed, beside the dust of your court the sun is less than a mote; for this reason it has not become a sight every eye can look upon. (This couplet is not in the VT manuscript.)

87. Every day the sun, champion of the green dome, comes riding about with a gold-inlaid sword and seeks your enemy.

88. If the full moon of the darkness wants to see a sun higher even than the sun, let it look at the sunburst of your lofty dignity.

89. The water of the spring of Kevser reaches the dust of your footprints every day; what if the sun too nourishes souls like a spring of life?

90. Because the sun has not received even a mote's share from the sea of love, it is left anchorless like this from its lightness. ("Lenger" is a ship's anchor; like a ship without an anchor, the sun cannot stay in one place.)

91. However lofty the sun may appear outwardly, it has not attained the rank of one mote of the dust of your road.

92. Your threshold has the dignity of heaven, such that the planets have become its lowliest dust and the sun the dust of its door.

93. These nine corners, that is, the nine heavens, are filled with the sun of your countenance; what if the seven climes become suns by the sun of your beauty?

94. The sun was already fair; because, like the spring of Kevser, it rubbed its face on the dust of your feet, it has with this face become fairer still. ("‘Ayn" in its dictionary sense means both a spring and the sun; "vech" too means both face and manner.)

95. Is it any wonder if I cut short your praise with a prayer? I know that the sun gives delicate natures a headache. (Prolonged praise is likened to the headache that comes from too long in the sun.)

96. As long as the sun, with a hundred thousand honours, comes over the face of the fourth dome and passes beyond this emerald arch,

97. As long as the sun each day displays its beauty behind a veil of light and lifts the curtain of darkness,

98. As long as the earth stands and the sphere turns without pause, as long as the sun rises to the azure dome and sets,

99. As long as nights adorn the lotus-coloured rose garden, as long as the sun comes as a red rose to the rose garden of heaven,

100. As long as the throne of God and the earth, the Tablet, the Seat and the Pen endure, as long as the sun is with the stars until the Day of Gathering,

101. You are the king who is the shadow of God; may God make the shadow of your being lasting, for your being is the light-spreading sun.

Literary and Historical Commentary

Structure of the Poem

The poem is a Turkish kaside (qasida) of one hundred and one couplets and is numbered Kaside 18 in the edition; it is the longest kaside in Münîrî's divan. The kaside is a long verse form in which every couplet carries the same rhyme, usually written in praise of a ruler. The metre is "fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilün". The redif (refrain word) is "güneş" (sun) and it is repeated at the end of every one of the hundred and one couplets; Ersoy too lists "güneş" among the kaside refrains of the divan. The rhyme rests on the sound "r" (ḫāver, gider, ḳaçar, enver, leşker, döker, peyker …); Ersoy cites this kaside among the examples of rhyme built on the rhyme letter (revi) alone. The kaside is found in the Vatican (VT 33b) and Vienna (VY 15a) manuscripts; couplet 86 is missing from the Vatican manuscript. The heading in the edition, "Der-medḥ-i Sulṭān Bāyezīd Ḫān ḫalledallāhü mülkehū", means "In praise of Sultan Bayezid Han; may God make his dominion eternal". Although the heading in the Vatican manuscript is printed in the edition with missing letters, the phrase "āftāb redīf", that is, "with the refrain sun", can be read. The source gives no information on when the kaside was presented.

The kaside has three matlas; that is, a couplet whose two lines both end with the refrain comes three times and divides the poem into three large sections. Couplets 1-33 are a long introductory section describing the sun (teşbib). This section closes with couplet 33, in which the poet, while thinking of the sun, sees the sun reciting "this poem" by heart. Couplet 34 is the second matla; couplets 34-56 are like a ghazal set inside the kaside, addressed to the beloved, and end in couplet 56 with the pen name (mahlas) "Münīr". Couplet 57 is the transition (girizgâh): the poet asks the beloved whether she does not beware of the king before whom even the sun trembles in fear, and in couplet 58 the patron's name, "Sulṭān Bāyezīd", is given. Couplets 58-75 are the panegyric. In couplet 76 the poet announces that he will speak a new matla, asking "if, warming to my words, I speak a matla, will it be a fault?"; couplet 77 is the third matla, and the panegyric continues to couplet 94. Speaking a new matla in the middle of a kaside is called tecdid-i matla. In couplet 95 the poet says he will cut the praise short with a prayer; couplets 96-101 are the prayer, linked together by the formula "as long as …".

Meaning and Figures of Speech

The whole imagery of the kaside is bound to the sun of the refrain, and almost every couplet dresses the sun in a different guise. In the introductory section the sun is Jonah escaping from the fish of the night (1), Joseph fleeing from his Zuleykha, the moon (2), Moses showing his white hand (3), a ruler conquering the land of India (6), a honeycomb in the sky (7), a loaf in the oven of heaven (12), a drunkard walking with one hand on the wall (13), a horseman in a golden helmet (18), a hand that adorns the old crone of a world like a bride with a headscarf of light (26) and a juggler playing with fire (32). These successive allusions to the stories of the prophets are examples of the figure called telmih (allusion). There are also many examples of hüsn-i talil (poetic aetiology), which link events of the sun to the subject of the poem: the sun covers the moon's face by day because it loves her (23), it roams the world because it is a wanderer like the heart (27), its heart is so often scorched because it has seen the faithlessness of the sphere (31).

In the ghazal section the sun shrinks before the beloved's beauty: it leaps like a grain in a pan (36), leans down through chimneys looking for the beloved's street (43), falls upon the dagger of her glance (45), holds a citron in its hand like Zuleykha (46), roams barefoot like a kalender (47). In couplet 38 the proverb "the sun cannot be plastered over with mud" is used in the form "cannot be covered"; this is an example of Münîrî's recourse to proverbs. In couplet 42 the poet answers his heart's advice, "repent of love", by recalling the day the sun will rise in the west. In the pen-name couplet 56 the motes dancing in the sunlight become small coins of gold that the sun scatters for the beloved.

In the panegyric the sun becomes the sultan's servant: it is the doorkeeper holding a staff at his threshold (58), it makes the seven heavens into a notebook to write his qualities (61), it is the finial of his tent (62), it brings him a golden citron (69), it becomes a goldsmith to make him a bath bowl (75), it reads the sermon in his name (81), it takes its sword on its shoulder and acts as his guide (84). Wordplay is also frequent: "külīçe" in couplet 12 can be read as both loaf and ingot, "mihr" in couplet 36 as both sun and love, "hevā" in couplet 54 as both air and desire, "şemse" in couplet 78 as both sun and sun-shaped ornament, "‘ayn" in couplet 94 as both spring and sun. Words such as "gömeç" (honeycomb), "degzinmek" (to roam) and "yasak" (command) bear the trace of old Turkish. In couplet 95 the poet makes the refrain the reason for turning to prayer, saying that prolonging the praise would give delicate natures a headache, as the sun does.

Historical Context

The recipient of the kaside is clear from the heading and from the name "sulṭān Bāyezīd" in couplet 58: the patron is Bayezid II. According to Ersoy, the kaside with the refrain "sun" was first composed in Turkish literature by İvazpaşazâde Atâyî of Edirne, one of the poets of the reign of Murad II, and the poem became famous through Ahmed Paşa's nazire (response poem). Münîrî names these two poets in the kaside he wrote as a nazire to them: in couplet 19 ‘Aṭāyī, who called the sun "dür-perver" (nourisher of pearls), and in couplet 20 Aḥmed, who called it "bī-mīzer" (without a loincloth). Ersoy quotes these two couplets twice in his introduction and counts the kaside among the poems that are nazires to Ahmed Paşa. The TDV entry also notes the influence of Ahmed Paşa and Atâyî in Münîrî's Turkish kasides. The words of the two predecessors appear within the kaside like witnesses; Münîrî recalls the epithets they gave the sun, and in couplet 20 he questions Ahmed's word. Whether the kaside was written in Bayezid's years as prince in Amasya or during his reign is not stated in the sources.

Bibliography

Online sources