In Praise of Kabul
Saeb Tabriziصائب تبریزی
خوشا عشرت سرای کابل و دامان کهسارش
Happy the pleasure-house of Kabul and the skirts of its mountains,
که ناخن بر دل گل می‌زند مژگان هر خارش
where the lashes of every thorn scratch at the rose’s heart.
خوشا وقتی که چشمم از سوادش سرمه چین گردد
Happy the time when my eye gathers kohl from its dark expanse,
شوم چون عاشقان و عارفان از جان گرفتارش
and, like lovers and mystics, I become its captive with all my soul.
ز وصف لاله او، رنگ بر روی سخن دارم
From describing its tulips my words take on colour;
نگه را چهره ای سازم ز سیر ارغوان زارش
I give my glance a rosy face by wandering its Judas-tree groves.
چه موزون است یارب طاق ابروی پل مستان
How graceful, Lord, is the arched brow of the Bridge of the Drunkards!
خدا از چشم شور زاهدان بادا نگهدارش
May God keep it safe from the evil eye of the ascetics.
A note for readers
The opening couplets of Saeb’s poem in praise of Kabul, thought to have been written during his stay there on the way to India, in the circle of the governor Zafar Khan. It remains one of the best-loved poems about the city, and its first couplet is often quoted in Afghanistan. The ‘Bridge of the Drunkards’ (pol-e mastan) was a bridge in old Kabul.
More poemsشعرهای دیگر
یک عمر می‌توان سخن از زلف یار گفت
در بند آن مباش که مضمون نمانده است
One could speak for a lifetime of the beloved’s tresses;
do not fret that there are no themes left.
A Lifetime on the Beloved’s Tresses
بلبلی برگ گلی خوش رنگ در منقار داشت
و اندر آن برگ و نوا خوش ناله‌های زار داشت
A nightingale held in its beak a rose petal of lovely colour,
and with that petal and its song it made sweet, piteous laments.
A nightingale held a rose petal
ستاره ای بدرخشید و ماه مجلس شد
دل رمیده ما را رفیق و مونس شد
A star shone out and became the moon of the gathering,
became friend and companion to our startled heart.