Original Ottoman Turkish Text

Metre: Fe‘ilātün fe‘ilātün fe‘ilātün fe‘ilün

Nev-bahār oldı bütān girse n’ola sādelere
Yaḳışur köhne ḳabā ser-dūş āzādelere
Hem yaḳar hem kül idüp ḫāk ile yeksān eyler
Rūzgāruñ sitemi bir mi ocaḳ-zādelere
Başḳa bir zevḳdür erbāb-ı fenāya ġam-ı ‘aşḳ
Nūr olur nār-ı sitem şem‘veş āmādelere
Eyledi ḳābile-i cām ile duḫteri vaż‘
Ḫum ki çoḳdan berü ābistān idi bādelere
Pāy-māl itme ḳalem ḫurdelerüñ it çīde
Süḫan ehlini gözet raḥm ḳıl üftādelere
Pāy-māl eyleyen āḫir aña eyler rū-māl
Naẓar it kār-ı mecāzātda seccādelere
Keşf-i esrār-ı kemāl olsa sezādur Ṣāḥib
Ḫāmeveş ḥükm-i süḫān-ı tīġine ser-dādelere

In English

1. Spring has come; what wonder if the idols mix with the smooth-faced youths? An old robe thrown over the shoulder suits the free in heart.

2. The wind of time both burns and, turning all to ash, levels it with the earth; is its cruelty not the same for the sons of noble hearths?

3. The grief of love is another kind of delight for those of self-annihilation; the fire of cruelty becomes light for those ready, like the candle.

4. The jar, which had long been pregnant with wines, gave birth to the daughter (the daughter of the vine) with the cup as midwife.

5. O pen, do not trample your scraps underfoot, gather them up; watch over the people of words, have mercy on the fallen. The line does not fully open; "hurde" may mean the shavings that fall when the pen is trimmed, or the fine points of speech.

6. He who tramples underfoot at last lays his face on it; look at prayer rugs in the world of likenesses (first trodden on, then the face is set on them in prostration).

7. Sâhib, to unveil the secrets of perfection befits those who, like the pen, have given their heads to the sword of the command of speech.

Literary and Historical Commentary

The sixth couplet draws a lesson from the prayer rug. The worshipper first steps onto the rug, then bows in prostration and lays his face on that same rug; what was trodden underfoot becomes in the end the place where the face is set. The poet ties this observation to a piece of counsel: tomorrow you may have to lay your face before one you trample today. The advice of the previous couplet, "have mercy on the fallen", is completed by this likeness, and read together the two couplets bring out the moral side of the ghazal.

The making of wine becomes, in couplet four, a scene of childbirth. Divan poetry calls wine "duhter-i rez", the daughter of the vine. The jar has long been pregnant with this daughter, and at last the cup, acting as midwife, has brought her into the world. "Kâbile" (midwife), "âbistân" (pregnant) and "vaz‘" (giving birth) are chosen from the same field, and the whole couplet is built on this single likeness.

In Sâhib's closing lines the knife that cuts the pen's nib appears once more; Sâhib uses the image in other ghazals as well. The pen writes because it gives its head to the knife; the poet says that only those who give their heads to the command of speech may unveil the secrets of perfection. The candle of couplet three is a similar image of sacrifice: the one who turns fire into light is the one ready to burn himself.

"Rûzgâr" in couplet two is used both as "time" and as "wind". The wind both fans the fire in the hearth and scatters its ash; an "ocakzâde" is a person from an old, noble family, literally "born of the hearth". The wind of time burns and scatters even these noble hearths. The first couplet speaks of beauties mingling with young men when spring comes, and of the easy dress of the free in heart.

Bibliography

  • Meral Topal, Pîrî-zâde Mehmed Sâhib Hayatı, Edebî Kişiliği, Eserleri ve Divanı'nın Tenkitli Metni, MA thesis, Fırat Üniversitesi Sosyal Bilimler Enstitüsü, Elazığ 2004, p. 191, ghazal 90 (Millet Library, Ali Emîrî Manzum 243, fol. 31b; Istanbul University Library T. 1710/6, fol. 15a; Istanbul University Library T. 738, fol. 20a). https://openaccess.firat.edu.tr/handle/11508/16014

Online sources