Who Will Bring My Pain to Its Cure?
Khwaju Kermaniخواجوی کرمانی
درد من دلخسته بدرمان که رساند
Who will bring the pain of my wounded heart to its cure?
کار من بیچاره بسامان که رساند
Who will bring the affairs of helpless me to order?
از ذره حدیثی برخورشید که گوید
Who will tell the sun a tale from the mote of dust?
وز مصر نسیمی سوی کنعان که رساند
Who will carry a breeze from Egypt to Canaan?
دل را نظری از رخ دلدار که بخشد
Who will grant the heart a glance from the beloved’s face?
جانرا شکری از لب جانان که رساند
Who will bring the soul sugar from the lips of the beloved?
از مور پیامی به سلیمان که گذارد
Who will deliver a message from the ant to Solomon?
وز مرغ سلامی به گلستان که رساند
Who will carry a greeting from the bird to the rose garden?
A note for readers
The opening couplets of a ghazal built on the repeated question ‘who will bring?’. The breeze from Egypt carried the scent of Joseph’s shirt to his father Jacob in Canaan, and the ant speaks before Solomon, as in the Quran. Near the end of the poem Khwaju asks who will carry his story home to Kerman.
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.