Ghazal · 17th–18th century

Whoever Came to This Garden

Bidel Dehlaviبیدل دهلوی

هرکه آمد سیر یأسی زین‌ گلستان‌ کرد و رفت

Whoever came took a stroll of despair through this garden and left;

گر همه‌ گل‌ بود خون‌ خود به دامان‌ کرد و رفت

even if he was all rose, he filled his skirt with his own blood and left.

غنچه ‌گشتن حاصل جمعیت این باغ بود

To close into a bud was all the composure this garden gave;

ناله بلبل عبث تخمی پریشان‌ کرد و رفت

the nightingale’s lament scattered its seed in vain and left.

صبح تا آگاه شد از رسم این ماتمسرا

As soon as the dawn learned the custom of this house of mourning,

خنده شادی همان وقف‌ گریبان‌ کرد و رفت

it spent its laugh of joy on tearing its collar, and left.

محملی بر شعله‌؛ اشکی توشه‌، آهی راهبر

A litter on a flame, a tear for provisions, a sigh for a guide:

شمع در شبگیر فرصت طرفه‌سامان‌کرد و رفت

the candle made strange preparations for its brief night journey, and left.

در هوای زلف مشکین تو هرجا دم زدم

Wherever I breathed in longing for your musky tresses,

دود آهم عالمی را سنبلستان‌ کرد ورفت

the smoke of my sigh turned a world into a hyacinth bed, and left.

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 on the brevity of life, each couplet ending ‘… and left’ (kard o raft). The rose, the dawn and the candle each make a brief appearance in the garden of the world and go: the rose’s red is its own blood, the first light of dawn is a collar torn in grief, and the candle travels on a flame with its own tears for food.