Original Persian Text

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

Ṭās-bāz-ı çarḫ-rā be’nger ki ṭāseş ber-serest
Geh pür-ez-gül mī-koned geh kāseeş pür-aḫkerest
Her şeb āteş-bār bāşed tā-be-vaḳt-i ṣubḥ-dem
Ān ki mī-gūyī be-vaṣfeş gül-şen-i nīlūferest
Ez-mey-i ‘işret ne-şod gül-gūne-i rūy-ı şafaḳ
Ez-ḥavādis̱ dem-be-dem ḫūn mī-ḫored z’ān aḥmerest
Her nefes der-fikr-i īn dünyā-yı dūn-perver me-bāş
Der ḫayālī büt şoden her laḥẓa kār-ı Āzerest
Tā derīn kül-ḫan fütādī ḥāżır-ı dem bāş ez-ān
Hīzüm ender-āteş er üfted hemān ḫākisterest
Şod be-ṣūret zindegī-i mā be-ma‘nī mordeīm
Ber-mazār-ı mā girifte çarḫ-ı nīlī-çāderest
Kelle’ī der-ḫāk dīdem k’ū şode nezdīk-i ḫāk
Ber-kenār-ı vey nüvişte k’āḫir-i īn derd serest
Der-güẕer-gāh-ı fenā fikr-i ḳarār ez-eblehīst
Menzil-i mülk-i ‘adem-rā k’īn memerr ü ma‘berest
Şod esās-ı ‘ömr egerçi nāzenīn ey dil velī
‘Ayş-ı īn bāşed ki der-vey raḥne’ī her dem derest
Dem me-zen hergiz be-ġaflet der-cihān ger ‘āḳılī
Key buved ġāfil kesī k’ū der-dehān-ı ejderest
Pehlevān-ı ‘arṣa-i meydān-ı çarḫ ez-behr-i to
Ber-keşīde tīġ-i Ḥayder ber-ser-i ḫod miġferest
Penbe-i ġaflet be-ber ez-gūş u çeşm-i cān küşā
Nefs-i kāfir-kīş ü dūr-endīş-i to kūr u kerest
Keştī-i dil-rā çi ġam ez-yemm-i mevc-i ḥādis̱e
Ger to-rā ‘ışḳī miyān-ı baḥr-i vaḥdet lengerest
Gerçi yābed perveriş ‘ālem heme ez-āftāb
Ez-berāy-ı ḫūn-ı mā her dem be-desteş ḫancerest
‘Iḳd-ı mihret ber-‘arūs-ı dehr-i dūn-perver me-bend
Her cüvān-rā sāl-dīde pīre-zen ne-der-ḫorest
Ber-küşā çeşm ü ber-ā ez-hestī-i ḫod yek nefes
Nüh-revāḳ-ı şeş derīçe behr-i to yek manẓarest
Cilve-gāh-ı ḫāṣet āmed tā-be-evc-i lā-mekān
Murġ-ı dil-rā himmet-i vālā-yı to ger şeh-perest
Der-pey-i ḫūn-ı dil-i ḫod şev eger ehl-i dilī
Der-miyān-ı ṣadr-ı sīne k’īnçonīn meh-manẓarest
Merdüm-i çeşmet çirā ez-eşk-i ter sīr-āb nīst
Der-miyān-ı bāġ-ı sīmā hem ki ‘ayn-ı kevs̱erest
Münkir-i sūz-ı dil ü eşk-i dil-efgārān me-şev
Der-ḥaḳīḳat her dü ẓāhir ma‘nī-i ḫuşk ü terest
Ḫūn-ı eşk-i dīde-i giryān be-levḥ-i çihreeş
Behr-i derc-i ḥālet-i derd-i derūneş maṣdarest
Ḥāżır-ı dem bāş ez-enfās-ı şān ġāfil me-şev
Hāy u hūy-ı abdalān çün pāsbān-ı kişverest
Māh-ı nev ḫod-rā nümāyed ber-heme ‘ālem tamām
‘Ayb ne’bved ger ten-i fersūd-ı sālik lāġerest
Ḫırḳa vü seccāde-i ṣad ‘ārif ū-rā der-girev
Der-ḫarābāt-ı muġān k’ān sāḳī-i cān-perverest
Yek nefes cem‘iyyet-i ḫāṭır ne-dīdem der-cihān
Hemçü zülf-i māh-rūyān ḥālem ez-vey muẓṭarest
Key şevem çün gül şigofte yek nefes ez-ḫurremī
Der-gülistān-ı vücūdem ‘ömr bād-ı ṣarṣarest
Her ki ber-Ye’cūc-ı nefs-i ḫod dilā seddī keşīd
Der-cihān ṣāḥib-ḳırān-ı a‘ẓam u İskenderest
Der-beyābān-ı ḍalālet güm-reh ü ser-geşte’īm
Ez-berā-yı mā zemīn ü āsmān z’ān ġam-ḫorest
Gerçi şod mecmū‘a-i ‘unṣur zi-dīvān-ı derest
Şod raḳam ber-vey ki īn mecmū‘a cüz-vey ebterest
Der-pey-i buṭlān-ı bāṭıl sā‘atī hergiz me-pūy
Pertev-i envār-ı Ḥaḳ ez-şems-i ḫāver eẓherest
Mihr-i ‘ālem-tāb-rā noḳṣān ez-ū yek ẕerre nīst
Her ki der-‘ālem be-nā-dīden mis̱āl-i şeb-perest
Dem-be-dem der-ḫıdmet-i īn nefs-i emmāre me-bāş
Şev ġulām-ı ān ki ū-rā nefs-i ser-keş çākerest
Me’nger ez-çeşm-i ḥaḳāret ber-heme ẕerrāt-ı kevn
Ger be-ma‘nī be’ngerī her ẕerre yek māh u ḫorest
Ḫāk-i rāhī k’ez ṣabā ber-ḫīzed ez-her reh-güẕer
Her yekī yek sünbül-i gül-pūş u verd-i aḥmerest
Ez-giriftārī ne-mī-yābed ḫalāṣ ey dil demī
Nefs-i kāfir-kīş-rā ān ki ġulām u çākerest
Ḥayf mī-gerded ki ez-ḥayvān eḍal mī-bāşed ū
Genc-i esrār-ı ma‘ānī-rā ki insān maẓharest
Ger to mī-ḫᵛāhī ki inkār-ı emānet mī-konī
Key buved k’ān-rā zemīn ü āsmān ḫod maḥḍarest
Bülbül-i rūḥet ki şod maḥbūs-ı dām-ı cism-i to
‘Andelīb-i ḫoş-nevā-yı gül-sitān-ı aḥḍarest
Hergiz ez-dünyā-yı dūn-perver me-şev ġāfil demī
Ḳāmet-i gerdūn ki ez-dest-i ḥavādis̱ cenberest
Gerçi şod pür-sīm ü zer rūy-ı zemīn ez-vey çi sūd
K’ef‘ī-i ‘ālem be-genc-i ū ṭılısm u ejderest
Fī’l-mes̱el iksīr bāşed ger heme ẕerrāt-ı kevn
Renc-i ḫod ber-ẕerre-i her künc lā-büd mużmerest
Ṭāli‘ ān ne’bved ki be’nmāyed merā iḳbāl rūy
Her ki ez-genc-i ḳanā‘at yābed ū nīk-aḫterest
Key revā bāşed ki der-fermān-berī n’āyī dürüst
Mihr ü māh ez-behr-i to ser-geşte vü fermān-berest
Tā-be-vaḳt-i morden ū nev‘-i diger key mī-şeved
Kes me-bādā bā-bedī ān kes ki ey dil nökerest
Kūşe-gīr-i ḫāne-i faḳr u ḳanā‘at şev Münīr
Ḫod to mī-dānī ki fikr-i ġayr ez-īn derd-i serest
Her zamān ez-ḥażret-i ‘İzzet to īn devlet be-ḫᵛāh
K’āverī ber-cāy-ı ān ki güfte-i peyġamberest

In English

1. Look at this juggler of the wheel of heaven with his bowl upon his head; at times he fills his cup with roses, at times his cup is full of embers. ("Ṭās-bāz" is, in its dictionary sense, a juggler who performs tricks with a bowl; Ersoy understands it as "the deceitful wheel of heaven".)

2. The thing you call a "garden of water lilies" when you describe it scatters fire every night until the hour of dawn. (The blue sky is likened to a garden of water lilies; the fire it scatters by night can be read as the stars.)

3. The redness on the face of the dawn does not come from the wine of revelry; it is red because it swallows blood without pause at the hands of events.

4. Do not, in any breath, fall into worry over this base world that nourishes the base; to carve idols in one's imagination every moment is the work of Âzer. (Âzer is, in its dictionary sense, the idol-maker held to be the father of Abraham.)

5. Since you have fallen into this furnace, be aware of the moment; for if wood falls into the fire it turns at once to ash. (The külhan is the furnace of a bathhouse and here stands for the world. "Ḥāżır-ı dem bāş" means in its dictionary sense "be aware of the moment"; Ersoy understands it as "make ready".)

6. In outward form we live, in meaning we are dead; over our grave the blue-tented wheel of heaven has been spread.

7. In the earth I saw a skull that had come close to turning to earth; on its edge was written, "the end of this pain is the head". ("Derd-i ser" means in its dictionary sense "headache, trouble"; the line reads both as "the end of this pain is the head" and as "the end of this business is a headache". The skull, too, is a "head".)

8. To think of halting and settling in this passage of mortality is folly; for this place is a crossing and a way station on the road to the lodging of the land of non-being.

9. O heart, though the foundation of life has been laid delicately, its state is this: at every moment a breach as large as a door opens in it.

10. If you are wise, never draw breath heedlessly in the world; how can one who stands in the dragon's mouth be heedless?

11. The champion of the arena of the wheel of heaven has drawn the sword of Haydar for your sake, with his helmet upon his head. (Ersoy names the sword as the sword of Hazrat Ali.)

12. Take the cotton of heedlessness out of your ears, open the eye of the soul; for your unbelieving, ever-calculating self is blind and deaf.

13. If you have an anchor of love in the middle of the sea of divine unity, what does the ship of the heart care for the sea full of the waves of events?

14. Though the whole world is nourished and grows by the sun, it has a dagger in its hand at every moment to shed our blood.

15. Do not tie the bond of love to the bride of this world that nourishes the base; no old crone is a fit match for any young man. ("‘Iḳd" means in its dictionary sense both "knot, necklace" and "marriage contract"; together with the word bride, the second meaning comes forward. Ersoy says "the sash of love".)

16. Open your eyes and step out of your own being, if only for a breath; this structure of nine porticoes and six windows will become a single view for you. (In Ersoy's explanation the nine porticoes are the heavens and the six windows the six directions.)

17. If your lofty resolve becomes a great wing for the bird of the heart, the place of your own promenade will reach to the summit of placelessness.

18. If you are one of the people of the heart, go in pursuit of the blood of your own heart, which looks like a moon in the middle of your breast. (Ersoy understands the line as "pursue the blood feud of your own heart".)

19. Why is the pupil of your eye, which stands like the spring of Kevser in the garden of your face, not filled with moist tears? ("‘Ayn" means in its dictionary sense both "eye" and "spring"; "‘ayn-ı kevs̱er" points to both meanings.)

20. Do not deny the burning of the heart and the tears of lovers whose hearts are wounded; in truth both are the plain meaning of dry and wet. (The burning answers to the dry, the tears to the wet.)

21. The bloody tears of the weeping eye are a source for writing the state of the inner pain on the tablet of the lover's face. ("Maṣdar" means in its dictionary sense both "source" and, in grammar, "infinitive"; together with the words tablet and writing it builds a picture drawn from the world of writing.)

22. Be aware of the moment, do not be heedless of the breaths of the abdals; for their cries of "hây" and "hû" are the watchmen of the land. (Ersoy explains these cries as dhikr, the remembrance of God.)

23. The new moon, too, shows itself whole to the entire world; it is no shame if the worn body of the wayfarer is thin. (The sâlik is the wayfarer on the Sufi path; a likeness is drawn between the thin crescent and the lean dervish.)

24. The cloaks and prayer rugs of a hundred gnostics are left in pawn, in the tavern of the Magi, with that cupbearer who nourishes the soul.

25. Not for a single breath in the world have I seen my heart at peace; like the tresses of the moon-faced, my state is in disorder because of it. (The couplet can be read in two ways: if "ez-vey" refers to the world, my state is in disorder because of the world; Ersoy, however, reads it as a comparison: "my state is even more tangled than theirs".)

26. While life is a harsh sarsar wind in the rose garden of my being, when shall I open like a rose with joy for a single breath? (The sarsar is, in its dictionary sense, a harsh and cold wind.)

27. O heart, whoever has raised a barrier against the Gog of his own self is the greatest lord of the age and the Alexander of the world. (There is an allusion to the story of Alexander raising a barrier against the people of Gog and Magog.)

28. We have lost our way and stand bewildered in the desert of error; for this reason earth and heaven grieve on our account.

29. Though the compendium of the elements has come from the divan of his door, upon it has been written: this compendium is incomplete without him. (The couplet is obscure and the rendering here rests on Ersoy's reading; whom "he" refers to is not clear. "Ebter" means in its dictionary sense "cut off at the end, incomplete".)

30. Never run even for an hour after the empty works of falsehood; the radiance of the lights of God is plainer than the sun rising in the east.

31. The world-illuminating sun loses not a single mote because of him, whoever in the world is like the bat in not seeing. (The couplet can be read in two ways: the bat's failure to see does not diminish the sun; Ersoy, however, understands it as "for one who is like the bat in blindness, the sun is no different from a mote".)

32. Do not be forever in the service of this self that commands evil; become the slave of the one whose rebellious self is his servant.

33. Do not look with a scornful eye on the motes of creation; if you look with the eye of meaning, every mote is a moon and a sun.

34. Each grain of the dust of the road that rises with the morning breeze from every passage is a hyacinth clad in roses and a red rose.

35. O heart, one who is the slave and servant of the unbelieving self cannot escape captivity for a single moment.

36. Alas that man, who is the manifestation of the treasure of the secrets of meaning, becomes more astray even than the beasts. (It can be read as an allusion to the Qur'anic phrase "like cattle, nay, even more astray".)

37. If you wish to deny the trust, how could that be, when earth and heaven are its witnesses? ("Maḥżar" means in its dictionary sense a record signed by witnesses. Ersoy understands the couplet as "how can one for whom earth and heaven bear witness betray the trust?")

38. The nightingale of your soul, imprisoned in the snare of your body, is the sweet-voiced nightingale of the green rose garden.

39. Never be heedless for a moment of this world that nourishes the base; the stature of the wheel of heaven has been bent into a hoop at the hands of events.

40. What use is it if the face of the earth fills with silver and gold through it; the serpent of the world is the talisman and the dragon of its treasure. (It rests on the belief that treasures are guarded by talismans and serpents.)

41. Suppose all the motes of creation were the elixir; in the mote of every corner its own toil is surely hidden. (The elixir is, in its dictionary sense, the substance believed to turn base metal into gold.)

42. It is not good fortune for prosperity to show me its face; whoever finds a share of the treasure of contentment, he is the one born under a lucky star.

43. When the sun and the moon turn dizzy and obedient for your sake, how can it be fitting that you do not fully obey the command?

44. O heart, how can one who is the companion of evil become another kind before the hour of death; may no one be a companion of the wicked. ("Nöker" means in its dictionary sense "servant, companion". Ersoy understands the couplet as "let the companion not be with evil; until the deathbed he will not be otherwise".)

45. O Münîr, withdraw into the corner of the house of poverty and contentment; you too know that to think of anything else is a headache.

46. Ask God the Mighty for this fortune at all times, so that you may fulfil the word the Prophet spoke. (Ersoy glosses this word in parentheses as "poverty is my pride"; the saying does not appear explicitly in the original.)

Literary and Historical Commentary

Structure of the Poem

The poem is a Persian kaside (qasida) of forty-six couplets and bears the number Kaside 5 in the edition. The kaside is a long verse form in which both lines of the first couplet and the second lines of the other couplets run on the same rhyme. The metre is the "fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilâtün fâ‘ilün" pattern of the remel measure. The rhyme is the sound "-er" (ber-ser, aḫker, nīlūfer, aḥmer, Āzer, ḫākister, lenger, ḫancer, kevs̱er, İskender); the redif (refrain word) is "-est", the shortened form of the Persian copula "is". Ersoy too lists this kaside among those with the redif "-est" in the redif list of his introduction. The heading in the edition is "Der-mev‘iẓa", "On admonition"; Ersoy counts this poem as one of the two admonitory (mev‘iza) kasides of the divan, the other being the Turkish Kaside 6 that follows directly. The poem is found in the Vatican (VT 12b) and Vienna (VY 12a) manuscripts and is absent from the Istanbul manuscript. According to Ersoy's apparatus, in the Vienna manuscript the poem ends at couplet 35, through a lost leaf or for some other reason; the last eleven couplets rest on the Vatican manuscript alone. There is no information on for whom or when it was written.

The kaside has no section devoted to praise; it is admonition throughout. The first three couplets portray the wheel of heaven, the revolving dome of the sky, as a juggler with a bowl, a garden scattering fire and a dawn swallowing blood. Then the transience of the world (4-10), vigilance against the self (11-12, 32, 35), love and the people of the heart (13, 18-21), and the dervish and the abdal (22-24) follow one another. In the last section the poet turns to contentment (42-45); the pen name (mahlas) appears in couplet 45 in the form "Münīr", and couplet 46 ends with asking God for poverty.

Meaning and Figures of Speech

The main idea of the kaside is that the world is deceptive and fleeting, and that man must overcome his self and take refuge in contentment. The poet reinforces this with recurring formulas. "Dünyā-yı dūn-perver" (the world that nourishes the base) occurs in couplet 4, "dehr-i dūn-perver" in couplet 15, and "dünyā-yı dūn-perver" again in couplet 39; "nefs-i kāfir-kīş" (the unbelieving self) is repeated in couplets 12 and 35, and "ḥāżır-ı dem bāş" (be aware of the moment) in couplets 5 and 22. These repetitions give the admonitory poem the insistence of a sermon.

Most of the images are drawn from a familiar world. The world is a furnace and turns man to ash like wood fallen into the fire (5); it is an old crone and cannot be a match for a young man (15); it is a dragon that holds man in its mouth (10). Couplet 7 is the most memorable picture of the kaside: on the edge of a skull found in the earth the words "the end of this pain is the head" are read. In Persian "derd-i ser" means headache and trouble; the inscription points both to the skull itself and to the end of worldly affairs. The same phrase returns in couplet 45, this time in rhyme position, where it is said that to think of anything but contentment is a "headache"; thus the cautionary picture at the start of the kaside is tied to the counsel at its end.

Among the figures of speech, allusion (telmih) stands out. Âzer carving idols in couplet 4, the sword of Haydar in couplet 11, the barrier Alexander raised against Gog in couplet 27, man falling lower even than the beasts in couplet 36, and the trust witnessed by earth and heaven in couplet 37 are recalled. The allusion in couplet 27 is at the same time a metaphor (istiare): the self is likened to Gog, the one who restrains it to Alexander. In couplet 19 the word "‘ayn" in the phrase "‘ayn-ı kevs̱er" works in two directions, meaning both eye and spring. In couplet 20 burning and tears are named first, and then the dry and the wet that correspond to them; this is an example of the figure called leff ü neşr (parallel enumeration). In couplet 21 the words tablet, writing and "maṣdar" build a tenasüp (congruence of images) drawn from the world of writing. In couplet 23 the comparison of the lean dervish with the crescent moon is a defence close to hüsn-i talil (poetic aetiology): what is thin is not faulty, for the new moon too is thin, yet it shows itself to the whole world.

In the kaside, elements of the language of the ghazal and of Sufism are put to the service of admonition. In couplet 24 the cloaks and prayer rugs of a hundred gnostics left in pawn at the tavern belong to the rind (libertine) language of divan poetry; Ersoy says that although Münîrî was not a Sufi poet he used Sufi symbols, and that this may have come from the influence of Hâfız. In couplet 22 the counting of the abdals' cries of "hây u hû" as watchmen of the land shows the poet's respect for dervish circles. The last couplet of the kaside, according to Ersoy's explanation, alludes to the saying that counts poverty as a source of pride and so ties the counsel of contentment to a religious foundation.

Bibliography

Online sources