Original Ottoman Turkish Text

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

Devr itdi çün kenār-ı gülistānı cūybār
Sīmīn kemer ḳuşandı ṣanasın ki bir nigār
Şol cür‘adan ki ḫāke bulutlar döker zemīn
Mest olup eyledi ḳamu pinhānın āşikār
Sebze berāber idi ḳara yire luṭf idüp
Ḳaldırdı ḫākden anı bārān-ı nev-bahār
Açdı yüzin gözin gül ile nergisüñ ṣabā
Ṣaḳlardı gerçi perdeler altında sebzezār
Gülbün başına gül siperin çekdi jāleden
Oḳ sepdi gülşene çü ḳurup ḳavs rūzgār
Fetḥ itdi ġonca ḳal‘aların bād-ı ṣubḥdem
Ġarḳ oldı ḫūn-ı lālelere tīh ü kūhsār
Çūb urdı ‘aks-i şāḫ aña te’dīb ḳasd idüp
Gülzāre ḳarşu çün uzanup yatdı cuybār
Ġonca ki ṭıfl-ı yek-şebedür ṣubḥdem anuñ
İster ki göre ṭāli‘-i mevlūdını hezār
Ṭutmaġa irtifā‘-ı nücūm-ı şükūfeyi
Güller getürmiş aña sütürlāb-ı zer-nigār
Çün āb-ı rūyıdur çemen ü bāġ u gülşenüñ
Ṭutsa ‘aceb mi şebnemi el üstine çenār
Himmetde ḫārdan daḫi ger olmaduñsa dūn
Ca‘fer bahār irişdi gülistānda ḳıl ḳarār

In English

1. When the stream wound round the edge of the rose garden, it was as if a beauty had girded herself with a silver belt.

2. Drunk on the last drops the clouds pour on the ground, the earth has revealed everything it was hiding.

3. The greenery lay level with the black earth; the rain of the new spring kindly raised it from the soil.

4. Though the meadow kept them hidden under veils, the morning breeze uncovered the faces and eyes of the rose and the narcissus.

5. When the wind strung its bow and scattered arrows over the rose garden, the rosebush drew its shield of roses over its head against the hail.

6. The dawn breeze conquered the fortresses of the buds; desert and mountains were drowned in the blood of tulips.

7. When the stream lay stretched out facing the rose garden, the branch's reflection in the water struck it with a stick to teach it manners.

8. The bud is a one-night-old infant at dawn; the nightingale wants to see the star of its birth, its horoscope.

9. To measure the altitude of the stars of blossom, the roses have brought it an astrolabe adorned with gold.

10. Since the dew is the honour of the meadow, the vineyard and the rose garden, is it any wonder if the plane tree holds it on the palm of its hand?

11. O Ca'fer, if in aspiration you are not lower even than the thorn, spring has come; settle in the rose garden.

Literary and Historical Commentary

A Picture of Spring

This ghazal of eleven couplets is a description of spring that scarcely mentions the beloved. In divan poetry descriptions of spring mostly stand in the opening section of kasides; here Câfer Çelebi builds an independent ghazal from the same material. The ghazal does without a refrain and rhymes on "-ār": cūybār, nigār, āşikār, nev-bahār, sebzezār, rūzgār, kūhsār, hezār, zer-nigār, çenār, ḳarār. From the first couplet on, nature behaves like a person: the stream is a beauty girding herself with a silver belt, the earth gets drunk on the dregs of wine poured by the clouds and reveals its secrets, the morning breeze uncovers the faces of the rose and the narcissus.

The fifth and sixth couplets turn spring into a battle scene. The wind strings its bow and scatters arrows, that is, lets fall hail; the rosebush draws a shield of roses over its head. The dawn breeze conquers the fortresses of the buds, and mountains and deserts drown in the blood of tulips. The red of the tulip becomes the blood of conquest. The seventh couplet holds a smaller, almost playful scene: the stream has stretched out disrespectfully facing the rose garden, and the reflection of the branch in the water strikes it with a stick like a schoolmaster.

Astrolabe and Plane Tree

The eighth and ninth couplets turn to the language of astronomy and horoscopes. The bud is a one-night-old infant, and the nightingale, as a horoscope is cast for a newborn, wants to see the star of its fortune. The roses have brought for this purpose an astrolabe adorned with gold, the instrument that measures the altitude of the stars; the round, golden rose resembles an astrolabe. The tenth couplet joins an everyday idiom to an observation of nature: the leaf of the plane tree resembles an open hand and "holds the dew on the palm of its hand", the Turkish idiom for cherishing something. Since the dew is the honour of the garden, the plane tree does well to hold it so.

The pen-name couplet is advice to himself: since even the thorn finds a place in the rose garden, Ca'fer, who is not lower than the thorn in aspiration, should settle in the rose garden when spring comes. In so long a ghazal the copies diverge often, and Erünsal's thesis records each case: "cür‘adan ki" in the second couplet appears as "cür‘adan" in the Paris copy, "cür‘a gibi" in the Hâlet Efendi copy and "cür‘alar ki" in the Ayasofya copy; "tīh ü kūhsār" in the sixth couplet is read in four copies as "tīġ-i kūhsār" (the ridge of the mountain); the Hâlet Efendi copy writes "dest-i" for "‘aks-i" in the seventh couplet and "ṭal‘at-i meymūnını" for "ṭāli‘-i mevlūdını" in the eighth. This picture of spring is not in Nazmî's anthology.

Bibliography

Online sources