Original Ottoman Turkish Text

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

Derde saldın beni ey dîde-i bîmâr çi bûd
Bir ‘ilâc eylemedin ey leb-i gülnâr çi bûd
Va‘de virdin size gelem deyu ey mâh niçün
Gelmedin bir gice vü yâ bir seher ey yâr çi bûd
Ne içün söylemezem mihr-i vefâ eylemedin
Lîk bir söyle sana fâide dildâr çi bûd
Eyledin ‘âşık-ı şeydâları zünnâr-perest
Beyle kirdârdan ey dilber-i hoş-kâr çi bûd
Sormadın bir gice ey mâh niçün hâlimizi
Bir seher gelmedin ey mihr-i pür-envâr çi bûd
Almadın perdeni ‘âşıkları mahzûn eyledin
Cümle mahrûm eyledin tâlib-i ruhsârı çi bûd
Görmedi Mîr Nigârî yüzün âyâ ne içün
Beyle mehcûr eyledin ‘âşık-ı dîdârı çi bûd
Fâ’iden şâm u seher yanmadı ammâ söyle
Beyle güftârdan ey tab‘-ı şekker bâr çi bûd
‘Âşık-ı sâdık-ı şeydâsan eger eyleme lâf
Hazer it söyleme dildârıla güftâr çi bûd

In English

1. O sick (languid) eye, you cast me into pain, what was that? O pomegranate-blossom lip, you made no cure, what was that?

2. O moon, you promised, "I will come to you"; O beloved, why did you not come one night or one dawn, what was that?

3. Why should I not say that you showed no love or faithfulness; but tell me once, beloved, what good came of it to you?

4. You turned the frenzied lovers into worshippers of the zünnâr (men who have left the faith); O skilful beauty, what came of such conduct?

5. O moon, why did you not once ask after us at night; O sun full of light, you did not come one dawn, what was that?

6. You did not lift your veil, you plunged the lovers in grief; you deprived all who long for your cheek, what was that?

7. Why has Mîr Nigârî not seen your face; why did you so cut off the lover of your face, what was that?

8. Evening and morning no profit kindled (came of it); but tell me, O sugar-raining nature, what came of such words? (The sense of the couplet is uncertain.)

9. If you are a true and frenzied lover, do not talk idly; beware, do not say to the beloved, "What use are words?" (This rendering of the couplet is tentative.)

Literary and Historical Commentary

Every couplet of a Turkish ghazal ends in a Persian question: "çi bûd", what was it, what came of it, what use was it. Nigârî uses the short phrase as an instrument of reproach and in each couplet asks the beloved about something she failed to do: she cast him into pain with her sick eye and gave no cure, promised to come and did not, showed no faithfulness, did not ask after him at night, did not call at dawn, did not lift her veil. With the same question added to every complaint, the ghazal becomes an interrogation whose answer never comes. Joining a Persian refrain to Turkish lines is a habit often seen in the divan; Nigârî brings the two languages together in one couplet with ease.

The "zünnâr" of the fourth couplet is the girdle that Christian priests and Zoroastrian clergy tied about their waists. In divan poetry to put on the zünnâr is to leave the faith, a symbol of love dragging the lover as far as unbelief. The beloved has made her frenzied lovers worshippers of the zünnâr; the poet asks what she has gained by it.

In the last two couplets the question turns on the poet himself. The pen name comes in the seventh couplet, and two more follow. In the eighth the poet addresses his own "sugar-raining" nature, his power of making poems, and asks what use so many words have been. The ninth is a counsel: the true lover should not talk idly or call the beloved to account with "çi bûd". The refrain repeated from the start becomes at the end a forbidden word. The edition leaves these last two couplets unexplained, so the rendering involves some guessing; the change of direction, though, is clear.

Bibliography

Online sources