Original Ottoman Turkish Text

Metre: Fe‘ilâtün Fe‘ilâtün Fe‘ilâtün Fe‘ilün

Açar ol perde-i ruhsâre-i dildâr sabâh
Ki doğar şems düşer ‘âleme envâr sabâh
Ref‘ olur leyle-i hicrân açılur ârız-ı yâr
Ki atar bâd-ı kerem perde-i dîdâr sabâh
Bâd-ı ruhsâr-ı güle bülbül-i dil âh eyler
Âhı gülzâre salur mürg-i çemen-zâr sabâh
Fikr-i dîdârınla ‘ukde-i tab‘ım açılur
Açılur ey büt-i nev-gonçe-i gülzâr sabâh
Ayılur ‘ârızın er kim göre çeşmin mestî
Olur elbet gice sarhoşları hüş-yâr sabâh
Şeb-i hicrân elemi saldı ayaklara beni
Elim al tîz yetür ey kâse-i ser-şâr sabâh
Getür ey sâkî sabûhı nice hâb eyleyelim
Okuyor mürg-i seher lâle kadeh-dâr sabâh
Cem‘ olub gülşene hengâm-ı seher nûş idelim
Hoş olur bâde-i mül seyr-i semen-zâr sabâh
Subh tekrâr-be-tekrâr Nigârî söyler
Gãlibâ kim kılur ol virdini tekrâr sabâh

In English

1. Morning opens the veil of the beloved's cheek; for the sun rises and lights fall upon the world.

2. The night of separation is lifted, the beloved's cheek is uncovered; for in the morning the wind of generosity throws off the veil of the face.

3. The nightingale of the heart sighs at the wind blowing from the rose's cheek; the bird of the meadow sends its sigh into the rose garden in the morning. (The sense of the couplet is uncertain.)

4. With the thought of your face the knot of my nature is untied; O idol, fresh bud of the rose garden, the morning too opens (like a bud).

5. Whoever sees your cheek sobers up from the drunkenness of your eye; those drunk at night surely become sober in the morning.

6. The pain of the night of separation has thrown me down at the feet; O brimming bowl of the morning, take my hand, come quickly. ("Ayak", foot, also means cup.)

7. O cupbearer, bring the morning wine, how long shall we sleep; the bird of dawn is singing, the tulip holds a cup in the morning.

8. Let us gather in the rose garden at dawn and drink; wine and a walk through the jasmine garden are pleasant in the morning.

9. Nigârî says "subh" (morning) again and again; it seems the morning too repeats that litany of his. (This rendering of the couplet is tentative.)

Literary and Historical Commentary

All the couplets of the ghazal set out different faces of the morning, and all rest on one comparison: the beloved's cheek is the sun, her hair and the separation are the night. In the first two couplets the morning is like a hand lifting the veil from the beloved's face; when the sun rises the world is lit, the night of separation is lifted and the cheek is revealed. The fifth couplet builds the same contrast with drunkenness: the beloved's eye makes one drunk, her cheek makes one sober, for those who drink at night come to themselves in the morning.

In the fourth couplet the verb "to open" faces two ways. Thinking of the beloved unties the knot in the poet's nature; the beloved is addressed as "fresh bud of the rose garden", and the bud too opens in the morning. The sixth couplet plays another game with the word "feet". The night of separation has thrown the lover down at the feet; in old Turkish "ayak" also means cup, so the same line shows the lover fallen among the cups. The call that follows suits this: "O brimming bowl of the morning, take my hand."

In the seventh and eighth couplets the ghazal turns into a spring morning gathering. The bird of dawn sings and the tulip holds a cup; the tulip is likened to a cup because the red flower with its dark centre recalls a full goblet. The cupbearer is asked for sabûh, the morning wine.

The closing couplet turns the wordplay on the refrain itself. "Subh" and "sabâh" come from the same root; the poet says "subh" again and again, and the morning repeats his litany. A vird is the prayer a dervish recites a set number of times each day. The couplet allows two readings: either the morning returns each time the poet calls it, or the litany recited at morning is the word "subh" on the poet's lips. The last letter of the refrain "sabâh" is "hâ" (ح), and it is this that places the ghazal in the present section.

Bibliography

Online sources