Original Ottoman Turkish Text

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

Ṭuymazam hecr elemin cām-ı mey-i nāb olıcaḳ
Ki şeb olmaz ḳarañu māh-ı cihāntāb olıcaḳ
Sāḳiyā cür‘adan unutma bu ben teşne-lebi
Bādeden ruḫlaruñuñ gülleri sīrāb olıcaḳ
Gölgesinden güniler ‘āşıḳ-ı bī-çāre seni
Ḳapuña gelmese ṭañ mı şeb-i mehtāb olıcaḳ
Görüp incitme işigüñde gözüm yaşlarını
Ki çemen daḫi laṭīf olur aḳar āb olıcaḳ
Düşde gördüm dir idüm dilberi ammā Ca‘fer
Gele mi ḫvāb göze ṭopṭolu ḫūn-āb olıcaḳ

In English

1. When there is a cup of pure wine, I do not feel the pain of separation; for when there is the world-illuminating moon, the night is not dark.

2. O cupbearer, when the roses of your cheeks have drunk their fill of wine, do not forget poor thirsty-lipped me with a draught.

3. The helpless lover is jealous of you even with your shadow; is it any wonder if he does not come to your door when it is a moonlit night?

4. Seeing the tears of my eye at your threshold, do not trample them; for the meadow too becomes lovely when there is running water.

5. O Ca'fer, I used to say, "I saw the beloved in my dream"; but can sleep come to the eye when it is brim-full of bloody water?

Literary and Historical Commentary

Jealous of One's Shadow

The third couplet is built on an old Turkish word: "günilemek" means to be jealous. The lover is jealous of the beloved even with her own shadow; so on moonlit nights he does not come to her door, since in the moonlight the beloved's shadow falls and is seen beside her. The expression "to be jealous of someone's shadow", still used today, is here tied to a concrete result of moonlight. The words "şeb-i mehtāb" (moonlit night) at the end of the couplet recall the opening couplet's "māh-ı cihāntāb" (world-illuminating moon): in the opening the moon lights up the night and helps the lover, while in the third couplet moonlight becomes the cause of jealousy.

The refrain "olıcaḳ", an old form meaning today's "olunca" (when it is), links a condition and its result in every couplet. Words ending in "-āb" make up the rhyme: nāb, cihāntāb, sīrāb, mehtāb, āb, ḫūn-āb. The opening couplet likens the cup of wine to the moon that lights up the night; when there is a cup, the pain of separation is not felt, just as when there is a moon the night is not dark. The beloved's cheeks in the second couplet, flushed with wine, are like roses that have drunk their fill; the thirsty lover asks the cupbearer for a draught.

Running Water and a Bloodshot Eye

In the fourth couplet the lover's tears gathered at the threshold are likened to running water, and the ground around the threshold to a meadow; as running water beautifies the meadow, tears adorn the beloved's threshold. In the Ayasofya and Hâlet Efendi copies the second line reads "Ki çemen dil-keş olur anda". The lover corrects his own words in the pen-name couplet: he used to say he had seen the beloved in his dream, but sleep does not come to an eye full of bloody tears, and so no dream is seen either. This self-contradiction closes the ghazal's theme of night and moon with sleeplessness.

The remaining variants are scattered: the Hâlet Efendi copy reads "Ṭuyamaz hecri elemin" for "Ṭuymazam hecr elemin" in the opening couplet, the Paris copy "teşne-dili" for "teşne-lebi" and "ruḫları gül gülleri" for "ruḫlaruñuñ gülleri" in the second couplet, and the Ayasofya copy "görem" for "gördüm" in the last. Nazmî's anthology gives it no room.

Bibliography

Online sources