Ghazal · 17th–18th century

Breath Scatters Us like the Rose

Bidel Dehlaviبیدل دهلوی

نفس آشفته می‌دارد چو گل جمعیت ما را

Breath keeps our composure in disarray, as with the rose;

پریشان می‌نویسد کلک موج احوال دریا را

the wave’s pen writes the state of the sea in scattered lines.

در این وادی که می‌باید گذشت از هرچه پیش آید

In this valley, where we must pass by whatever comes,

خوش آن رهرو که در دامان دی پیچید فردا را

happy the traveller who wrapped tomorrow in the skirt of yesterday.

ز درد مطلب نایاب تا کی گریه سر کردن

How long will you weep for the pain of a goal that cannot be found?

تمنا آخر از خجلت عرق کرد اشک رسوا را

In the end desire, for shame, turned the tell-tale tear to sweat.

به این فرصت مشو شیرازه‌بند نسخه هستی

With so little time, do not set about binding the book of being;

سحر هم در عدم خواهد فراهم کرد اجزا را

the dawn, too, will gather its leaves in non-being.

From: The Divan of Bidel
Translation: Persiahaus Editors
Source: Draft translation from the Ganjoor text
Persian text: Ganjoor

A note for readers

The opening of a ghazal in Bidel’s most characteristic manner. The breath that opens the rose also scatters its petals, as the wave writes the sea’s ‘scattered’ state; life is a book whose loose leaves there is no time to bind. In the third couplet the tear that betrays the lover’s longing turns, from shame, into the sweat of embarrassment.