The Chinese and the Greek Painters
Rumiمولانا
در فرو بستند و صیقل میزدند
They shut the door and kept on polishing,
همچو گردون ساده و صافی شدند
until they were plain and clear as the sky.
از دو صد رنگی به بیرنگی رهیست
From two hundred colours there is a road to colourlessness;
رنگ چون ابرست و بیرنگی مهیست
colour is like a cloud, and colourlessness a moon.
هرچه اندر ابر ضو بینی و تاب
Whatever light and gleam you see in the cloud,
آن ز اختر دان و ماه و آفتاب
know that it comes from the stars, the moon and the sun.
چینیان چون از عمل فارغ شدند
When the Chinese had finished their work,
از پی شادی دهلها میزدند
they beat drums for joy.
شه در آمد دید آنجا نقشها
The king came in and saw the pictures there;
میربود آن عقل را و فهم را
they were carrying off his reason and understanding.
بعد از آن آمد به سوی رومیان
After that he came over to the Greeks;
پرده را بالا کشیدند از میان
they drew back the curtain that hung between.
عکس آن تصویر و آن کردارها
The reflection of those pictures and that work
زد برین صافی شده دیوارها
fell upon these walls that had been polished clear.
هر چه آنجا دید اینجا به نمود
Whatever he had seen there looked finer here;
دیده را از دیدهخانه میربود
it was snatching the eye out of its socket.
A note for readers
From the first book of the Masnavi. The Chinese and the Greeks (Rumiyan, the people of Rum) compete before a king: the Chinese paint their wall in a hundred colours, while the Greeks only polish theirs until it reflects the Chinese work more beautifully. Rumi goes on to say that the Greeks are the Sufis, who polish the heart instead of learning from books. The excerpt begins as the Greeks shut themselves in to polish.
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.