I Am Love, Whose Place Cannot Be Seen
Fakhr al-Din Iraqiعراقی
عشقم که در دو کون مکانم پدید نیست
I am Love: in the two worlds my place cannot be seen;
عنقای مغربم که نشانم پدید نیست
I am the Anqa of the West, whose trace cannot be seen.
ز ابرو و غمزه هر دو جهان صید کردهام
With brow and glance I have hunted down both worlds;
منگر بدان که تیر و کمانم پدید نیست
never mind that my arrow and bow cannot be seen.
چون آفتاب در رخ هر ذره ظاهرم
Like the sun I am plain in the face of every atom;
از غایت ظهور عیانم پدید نیست
from too much showing, my plainness cannot be seen.
گویم بهر زبان و بهر گوش بشنوم
I speak with every tongue and hear with every ear,
وین طرفهتر که گوش و زبانم پدید نیست
and stranger still, my ear and tongue cannot be seen.
چون هرچه هست در همه عالم همه منم
Since all there is in all the world is I,
مانند در دو عالم از آنم پدید نیست
therefore in the two worlds my like cannot be seen.
A note for readers
In the Lama’at the prose asks, ‘Do you know what it whispers in my ear?’, and Love answers in these lines. The Anqa, like the Simorgh, is the fabulous bird that everyone names and no one has seen. Love is hidden not because it is absent but because it is everywhere. Iraqi wrote the Lama’at in Konya, where he studied with Sadr al-Din Qunavi, the foremost disciple of Ibn Arabi.
More poemsشعرهای دیگر
مرغی دیدم نشسته بر باره طوس
در پیش نهاده کله کیکاووس
I saw a bird perched on the ramparts of Tus,
with the skull of Kay Kavus set down before it.
A Bird on the Walls of Tus
یکی قطره باران ز ابری چکید
خجل شد چو پهنای دریا بدید
A drop of rain fell from a cloud;
it was ashamed when it saw the breadth of the sea.
A Drop of Rain
ابتدای کار سیمرغ ای عجب
جلوهگر بگذشت بر چین نیمشب
The beginning of the Simorgh’s story, how wonderful:
in all his splendour he passed over China at midnight.