Original Persian Text

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

Tā ez-kitāb-ı ḥüsn-i to ḫᵛāndīm yek sebaḳ
Şod nezd-i defter-i dil-i men levḥ yek varaḳ
Bī-pertev-i ṭulū‘-ı ruḫ u ṣubḥ-ı ‘ārıżet
Gerded zi-‘aḳs-i eşk-i men īn sürḫī-i şafaḳ
Dil ḫūn şod ez-cefā-yı to ammā ne-gūyemeş
Ger ser reved çü ḫāme şeved sīneem dü şaḳ
Yek laḥẓa der-firāḳ-ı to ṭāḳat ne-bāşedem
Ey vāy-ı men ki hicr-i to bāşed ber-īn nesaḳ
Ger rence mī-konī ḳadem ez-behr-i porsişem
Vaḳtest ez-ān ki mānde zi-cān bī-to yek ramaḳ
Çün ṣubḥ-ı ṣādıḳest ruḫet ey meh-i Münīr
Bel aḥsenü cemālüki vallāhi min felaḳ

In English

1. Since we read one lesson from the book of your beauty, beside the notebook of my heart the Tablet has remained no more than a single leaf. (Levh means a writing tablet and also the Preserved Tablet, Levh-i Mahfûz, on which all things are written; Ersoy too gives both senses together.)

2. While the light of your face's rising and of your cheek's morning is absent, this redness of the dawn comes from the reflection of my tears.

3. From your cruelty my heart has turned to blood, but I do not tell of it, even if my head should go and my breast be split in two like a pen. (A reed pen has its head cut off when it is trimmed and its nib split down the middle; the line applies these two operations to the lover's state.)

4. I cannot bear separation from you for a single moment; woe is me if your separation goes on in this way.

5. If you will take the trouble to set foot here to ask after me, now is the very time; for without you my soul is a hair's breadth from departing.

6. O moon of Münîr, your face is like the true dawn; no, by God, your beauty is lovelier than the light of daybreak. (The second line is in Arabic. Ersoy understands "meh-i Münīr" as "beloved who is like the shining moon"; "münīr", in its dictionary sense, means "shining" and is at the same time the poet's pen name.)

Literary and Historical Commentary

Structure of the Poem

The poem is a six-couplet ghazal (gazel) written in Persian; its last line is in Arabic. In the edition it is the eighty-ninth of the Persian ghazals (fg 89). The metre is "mef‘ûlü fâ‘ilâtü mefâ‘îlü fâ‘ilün". The ghazal has no refrain (redif) and does not appear in Ersoy's list of refrains. The rhyme is the sound "-aḳ": sebaḳ, varaḳ, şafaḳ, şaḳ, nesaḳ, ramaḳ, felaḳ. The poem is found in the Vatican (VT 83a) and Vienna (VY 66a) manuscripts. To whom and when it was written is not known.

Meaning and Figures of Speech

The opening couplet is a picture of school and book. The beloved's beauty is a book; the poet has read only one lesson (sebaḳ) from it, but this single lesson has so filled the notebook of his heart that the Tablet beside it is no more than a single leaf (varaḳ). The word Levh brings to mind both the writing board and the Preserved Tablet on which all things are believed to be written; the second sense says that the notebook of the heart is wider even than a book that contains everything. There is a plain congruence of images (tenasüp) among the words book, lesson, notebook, tablet and leaf.

In the second couplet the redness of the dawn is tied to the lover's bloody tears. Before the beloved's face rises like the sun, the red in the sky is the reflection of the lover's bloody tears cast upon it. Since the real cause of a natural event is set aside and a poetic cause is given, this is an example of the figure of fanciful aetiology (hüsn-i talil). The third couplet expresses patience through the pen. Before a reed pen is used its head is cut off and its nib split in two; the lover says he will not complain of cruelty even if his head should go and his breast be split like a pen. The TDV article records that Münîrî also practised calligraphy; these details of trimming the pen belong to the everyday work of the art of writing.

The fourth and fifth couplets describe the last point of separation. The lover's soul is "a hair's breadth" from departing; if the beloved is to come and ask after him, now is the very time. This picture between a sick visit and a deathbed sets up a plain and realistic scene in the middle of the ghazal.

The pen-name couplet (mahlas) joins a Persian line with an Arabic one. In the first line the beloved's face is likened to the "ṣubḥ-ı ṣādıḳ", the true dawn, when the horizon really begins to brighten. The second line takes this comparison back: by God, the beloved's beauty is lovelier than the light of daybreak (felaḳ). First comparing and then holding the beloved above what he is compared to is a frequent device in divan poetry. The word "felaḳ" is also known as the name of the sura al-Falaq in the Qur'an. The phrase "meh-i Münīr" can be understood in two ways: the moon of Münîr, or the shining moon. Using his pen name like an adjective, the poet holds these two senses together. The words dawn, morning and daybreak build a bridge between the second couplet and the last.

Bibliography

Online sources