Hafiz Shirazi (1326 - 1389)
Hajja Shams ad-Din Muhammad Hafiz Shirazi (1326-1389/90)
Persian poet.
Origin: from a humble and poor family.
Hafiz received a full theological education and
became famous as a hafiz (a person who knows the Koran by heart).
Court poetic activity did not enrich the Persian poet Hafiz, and during
In many verses, he speaks of himself as a person without security.
The poet himself became popular after his death.
After his death, all the works of Hafiz were distributed in huge numbers in Iran and beyond.
At the age of 21, he became a student of Attar in Shiraz. He already then wrote poetry, was a famous poet and reader of the Koran at the court of Abu-Ishak, entered the Sufi order - Tariq.
In 1333, Mubariz Muzaffar occupied Shiraz, and Hafiz began to compose songs of protest instead of
romantic poems, for which he was expelled from his native city.
When he was 52 years old, the Shah invited him to return to Shiraz.
The myth was spread that at the age of 60, together with friends, he organized a forty-day
meditative vigil, and his spirit met again with Attar.
He wrote many famous lyrical ghazals - about love, wine, the beauty of nature and roses.
He died at the age of 64 (1390) and was buried in the Musalla garden in Shiraz.
Mausoleum of Hafiz is one of the main sights of Shiraz, many pilgrims come there.
The mausoleum itself is located in the park, where the poems of Hafiz are constantly recited to the music. Also, fortune-telling on the "Sofa" of Hafiz is common.
After his death, "Sofa" appears - a collection of 600 of his poems.
Here are some translated verses from the Divan:
Do not only harm others, but otherwise ...
Live as you know, and fate will help you.
There is no other sin. Good will you multiply
Himself, as in a mirror, luminous goodness ...
*********
It's time to regenerate people and grow your garden,
And create your world again - otherwise it's hell ...
* * *******
Among all that the Creator of the worlds created from nothing
There is a moment! What is the essence of it? Remained a mystery of shackles .. .
**********
Life is not as short as I thought in sadness...
Looking for the end, you find the beginning.
************
For those who truly love
Immortality will destroy mortality...
************
Seek peace in love - these are your delusions.
**********
Close the petals of sleeping roses with hyacinths,
That is, turn your face, brush the world away with your hand!
And drop dewdrops of sweat on the flower garden, as from a bowl of eyes,
Drunk with living water The world hidden from us.
And at least somehow open the daffodils of sleepy eyes,
And close the jealous eyelashes of marvelous flowers!
If you do not know how to kill the eyes of lovers,
Drink with others, but reproach us, won't you regret it?
Like a veil of wine on your eyes,
Life is blind, according to the laws - worse than sour batch.
When the days - rose petals - crumble, we drink
Rose wine in the Sufi circle, in the rose of life where we live!
Here violets aroma, cute curls scattered,
And a tulip bouquet. Drink to warm your souls!
Here Hafiz prays for a meeting: - My God, do not push away
You are the prayer of the souls of the sufferers, let them into your mouth. ***
*********
The body came out of the dust of the ground...
The spirit is from the ether, from the heavenly breath.
Why are you afraid of death, my baby?
Dust to ashes, and the spirit to the other world!
*********
Echo
We are not afraid of death, Father,
And the fact that the abode of hearts
Will accept our spirit not so perfect,
So that he becomes eternally blessed .. .
********
My heart asked
what she owns:
It wanted to see the whole world in a magic bowl...
Pearl, the creations of pearls - the all-seeing Heart
The blind man asked for alms - and received his sight!
Your doubts in harabat
I brought the elder of the magicians:
Husbands, wishing to see the light, there were many sitting there.
The gray-haired sage, drunk, stared into the bowl:
In it, everything that was on earth was full of color and seething.
Asked:
“How long have you not taken your eyes off the wine?”
“Since this firmament was erected skillfully!”
The insight of the heart is a miracle sent down to us from above.
All the tricks of the mind before him are an empty thing.
The one who said "God is me!" according to the wisest
Executed for lifting the veil too boldly.
And the one who hid in his heart what was revealed from above,
The memory of the moment of Truth in the soul is intact.
And if heaven will help him,
He will perform a miracle, like Isa, who breathed the soul into the body.
Always and everywhere God is with you, but the cowardly Sufi
He did not know about it and called on Allah every now and then.
Hafiz asked:
"Why is love as heavy as chains?" —
“So that the heart, having lost its mind, sang from sweet pain!”
The text of the work is placed without images and formulas.
The full version of the work is available in the "Job Files" tab in PDF format
"Persian motifs", inspired by acquaintance with medieval Persian poetry, memories of Central Asia and the Caucasus, were written by Yesenin in the last year of his life, from autumn 1924 to August 1925.
In "Persian Motives" the same main themes for the poet sound: love for everything beautiful in life, for the native land. The poet considered these poems the best of all that he had written.
Evening light of the saffron edge,
Silently roses run through the fields.
Sing me a song my dear
The one that Khayyam sang
Silently roses run through the fields.
Omar Khayyam was a prominent scientist, astronomer, mathematician, but he won world fame with poetic miniatures.
To live life wisely, you need to know a lot:
Two important rules to remember to get started:
You'd rather starve than eat anything
And it's better to be alone than with just anyone.
Yesenin's favorite colors are gold and blue, they have a lot of personal for the blue-eyed, golden-haired poet: Russia itself, with its piercing blue autumn sky and heavy ears of ripened bread. Surprisingly, Persia, created by the imagination of the poet, resembles the Motherland with its delicate saffron color.
Sergey Yesenin:
The air is clear and blue
I'll go out to the flower beds.
Traveler, leaving in the azure,
You won't reach the desert.
The air is clear and blue.
Is it a whisper, a rustle or a rustle
Tenderness, like the songs of Saadi.
Instantly reflected in the eyes
Month yellow charm,
Delicate like the songs of Saadi.
Saadi believed that a person needs to live two lives: in one, look, sometimes be mistaken, look again, in the other, check the accumulated experience. His books mix "sweetness with bitterness", fiction with fact. The poet was the first to name the term "humanism".
All the tribe of Adam is one body,
Created from the dust,
Over human grief you did not cry forever, -
So will people say that you are human.
Everything is beautiful in love - does it bring us
Suffering, she or balm.
He who is in love hates power and the kingdom.
He sees his support in poverty.
He drinks pure wine of suffering,
Silent, though it seems bitter.
In "Persian Motifs" we will not find crude naturalism in the disclosure of the theme of love. Persian - the embodiment of tenderness and purity. The poet's poems speak only of the desire to understand the beloved, just to see her.
Where the threshold is strewn with roses.
There lives a thoughtful peri
In Horossan there are such doors,
But I couldn't open those doors.
I have strength in my hands,
There is gold and copper in the hair.
I have enough strength in my hands
But I couldn't open the door.
The key word is "rose" - a reminder of another great oriental poet - Rudaki. He was called "Adam of the poets of Persia." He wrote philosophical and love poems, in them - the discovery of nature and man.
The sage is drawn to goodness and peace. You are alone among hundreds of thousands of faces.
A fool is drawn to war and strife. You are alone without a hundred thousand faces.
Came ... "Who? - "Darling" - "When? "-" Early dawn.
Fleeing from the enemy... "Who is the enemy?" - "Her own father" -
And twice I kissed ... "Whom?" - "Her mouth."
“Mouth?” - “No” - “Well?”. "Ruby" - "What?" - Crimson - fire.
One of the main motives of Sergei Yesenin's cycle is longing for his native land. Love for Russia is stronger than love for the dream country of Persia.
You are good, Persia, I know
Roses, like lamps, burn.
And again to me about a distant land,
They say elastic freshness.
You are good, Persia, I know.
Persia! Am I leaving you?
I'm parting with you forever
For the love of my native land
It's time for me to go back to Russia.
Songs of Shiraz
(Persian folk poetry translated by A. Revich)
"... For the sparkle of gazelle eyes, I will give my life and honor"
Shiraz is the heart of Iran. Almost a thousand kilometers to gosouth of the capital to get to this cozy city, sung in verse and
legends. Halfway to it, Isfahan will meet with unique blue
and cream-domed mosques, swaying minarets, with many
workshops-shops for chasing metal.
An hour on a winding mountain road- and behind a small pass
Shiraz is opened to the eye, which the Iranians since ancient times call the city
roses and nightingales. There are really a lot of roses, they fill the central
street and outskirts, where the tombs of the great medieval poets are buried in flowers
Saadi and Hafiz. And you will no longer hear nightingales in Shiraz, except in
university park or in the famous orange grove. And about feathered
Iranians say? After all, for them nightingales are poets and folk singers, creators of
poetic folklore. However, it would be wrong to think that beyond
In Shiraz or, let's say, in the whole province of Fars, people live without songs. On rice
fields of Gilan, in the mountains of Khorasan, in the steppes of the central part of the country at any
season you can hear how a shepherd or a lone traveler on a donkey pours out
there is longing in the song, and not a soul around him ... But in Fars, where did the name come from
the whole country - Pars (Persia), folk traditions are stronger, folklore
more diverse and the voices of the singers, apparently, louder. It is no coincidence therefore
it is here that more songs are recorded than in other parts of this large country
Folk poetry of Iran evolved over the centuries in close association with
classical literature. Sometimes not only the reader, but also the researcher
can tell exactly what elements came into written poetry from folklore
and which ones, on the contrary, got into folklore from poetry. Both folklore and literature
we meet the names and images of Farhad, Leyla, Majnun, Yusef and others;
plots of folk quatrains came to Omar Khayyam and, in a new way, they
meaningful, enriched folklore.
Persian-Tajik literature- this is a huge spiritual wealth,
which was duly appreciated by the classics of Western European and Russian
literature. It is no coincidence that Goethe paid deep respect to her, who, under
under her influence wrote his famous "West-Eastern Divan" and the merits
some Iranian poets in the development of world literature, maybe
undeservedly, put above their own. And A. Pushkin, as you know, were "Gafiza and
Saadi ... the names are familiar. "And not only the names. Pushkin knew and appreciated them well
creation. The spirit of the East, the figurativeness of Persian literature are imbued
many of his works.
The classical poetry of Iran was seriously studied by L. Tolstoy. Especially
he liked the stories and sayings of Saadi on moral topics. Some of them
he used in compiling his "Russian books for reading".
Passion for Hafiz for a long time took possession of A. Fet, who left
beautiful transcriptions of his ghazals. Finally, "Persian motives" by S. Yesenin
in their spirit and lyricism they are connected with hafiziana, although the poet names
Ferdowsi, Khayyam and Saadi.
The high artistry of Persian-Tajik literature in many respects
explained by its rich sources. Among them are written
ancient Persian literature, the so-called Shuubite poetry, created
Iranian poets in Arabic in the VIII-IX centuries, and, of course, oral
creativity, widespread among the peoples living in the territory
Iranian states since ancient times.
Acquaintance with the folklore of Iran showed that most
its most common poetic form is finish (quatrain).
Russian scientist A. A. Romaskevich, later professor of the Leningrad
university, during his trips to southern Iran, he managed to record
four hundred quatrains, translations of which, together with the Persian text and
transcriptions have been published. The scientist believed that the origin of this
poetic form goes back to the distant pre-Muslim past. In the very
fact, in the "Avesta" - the sacred book of the Zoroastrians (Zoroastrians, or
fire worshipers - confessors of Zoroastrianism, the ancient religion of Iran until the 7th century.
Its founder was Zoroaster (Zarathushtra).) - part of the verses consisted (according to
Romaskevich) from a series of four-line stanzas, with each line (verse)
contained in itself eleven syllables. Such is the poetics of folk
quatrains.
Dobeiti can be attributed to the lyrical kind of poetry. These quatrains are not
only state a fact or event, but also express an attitude towards it, give
assessment. Their performers, most often unknown singers, sang about love, about beauty.
beloved, about the joy of meeting her, about the suffering from unrequited love,
about unfulfilled desires, about fidelity and, conversely, about the infidelity of a loved one.
The main characters of love songs are young people, boys and girls. Their thoughts
feelings and experiences - this is the main content of quatrain songs. Together
at the same time, folk quatrains are fully saturated with everyday material, in
they can clearly hear a variety of life circumstances, sad
motives for their occurrence.
Dobeiti are not recited, but sung. When singing, the performer has a great
the ability to freely handle poetic meter. In eleven syllable
finish the third line, as a rule, contains not eleven, but thirteen
syllables. And sometimes, although rarely, there are longer verses or even
short, seven syllables. The fact that folk quatrains do not fit into
the aruz framework seems to be one of the reasons why the Iranians
never call them "robai" (Robai - in Arabic, Persian and
Turkic-language poetry, a quatrain, as a rule, of a philosophical content,
written according to the laws of Aruz. A common form of a poem that has
their author.), although they share many other characteristics with the robai. Before
in total, quatrains, like robai, are completely independent works,
containing a complete thought. Even in cases where Iranian
folklorists are trying to compose a kind of song from individual quatrains
on a certain topic and head them "Loneliness", "Loyalty",
"Separation", "Foreign land", each quatrain of such a song continues to live its own
life, remains independent and independent of its neighbors.
Songwriters personify natural phenomena, plants, animals,
treat them like rational beings. The singer himself or his lyric
the hero likens himself or the one to whom he refers to living or
even inanimate nature: "I am a fish", "I am a white bird", "I am a pistachio
tree", "we are grains in one pomegranate", "we are two fused cypress trees", "you -
little dove, and I am a falcon", "if you are a pearl, then I am amber", "if you are
silver, then I am gold." In Persian folk poetry, these personifications and
similitudes acquire a unique beauty and imagery.
The whole complex of relationships between man and nature
was deep and
high poetic level developed by Omar Khayyam and found a brilliant
artistic embodiment in his robes.
The reader can get acquainted with the whole variety of Iranian folk poetry. In this to him
expressive translations of Alexander Revich will help, convincingly conveying
depth and features of folklore, its imagery, lyrical tone,
simplicity and at the same time the richness of the Persian language, which is used
Iranians outside of written literature.
A. Shoitov
Quatrain - FINISH
O girl! I can compare you to the moon
Like the letter "aleph", the straight line is graceful,
I can call you the queen of all beauties
For your mole above your tender lip.
Believe it or not, you took my heart away
You took everything, I'm in love with these intoxicated eyes ...
Black-eyed, you're throwing me glances, aren't you?
You took my heart and you're glad, aren't you?
God, what am I to do with my possessed soul?
I forgot my peace, rushing after my beloved,
She does not need other flowers, their fragrance is magical,
Only aspires to a rose, incomparable to anything, mine.
I gave you a rose, you breathe in the aroma,
Hide this rose on your chest, keep it under your shawl,
You will go along the steppe path, you will not be alone,
Talk to the rose, just open the shawl a little.
I recognize your mouth and for a thousand steps,
Your lips beckon me like the sweetness of fruit,
Your mouth is the Kaaba, and I myself am a pilgrim
And during the night I am ready to venerate the shrine a hundred times.
... Are you a moon or a star, alas, I don’t know myself,
But with the help of my Creator you will soon become
Even if you ascend to heaven, I will find you there.
Blessed is the sunrise and awakening moment
In your arms, oh, how great that moment is!
I will sit on the bed, kiss your cover
And with rose petals I will shower a gentle face.
Look, my friend, it's midnight
On a branch, a drunken nightingale sings,
He believes the secret of the heart to the rose,
No one will spill them with water.
I will throw the lasso, I will go to you like a genie,
For the canopy I will sneak, I will climb into the palanquin,
Let at least a hundred lions protect you,
But I'll break your kiss at least one.
I would like to sit with you side by side at the table
And comb your hair with a comb,
I became richer than Suleiman by the will of heaven
The day I brought you to my father's house.
I will give my life for your crimson lips,
There is nothing crazier than our love,
I got tipsy from love, I lost my mind,
And if I die, call yourself guilty.
Girlfriend needs a rich husband, she looks half-heartedly,
Her ears are missing diamond earrings
She won't hug me, she doesn't need a poor man,
She dreams of a fabulous fiance from the city of Shiraz.
I met the black-eyed one by the willow,
Only houris and peri are so beautiful,
Eyes - like two stars, and the face is
That the proud month will fade in an instant.
Greetings, O pomegranate seed,
I will give my life for you, you are dearer to me than my brother,
Out of a hundred and one, I chose you
Don't betray me, be faithful to me.
Oh my black-eyed, you feed the baby,
Take a break from the cradle for a moment, oh, how good you are!
If you want your baby to live to advanced years,
Let me into your bed for once, my soul!
I look at the silk of your veil - the spirit spirals in my chest,
I look at the beauty of shalwar - wait, don't go!
Some alien rich man took my girlfriend away
Are you still alive, my poor friend Mehdi?
The veil of my dear Nisa, the wicked one, he tore,
He struck my heart with resentment.
Ax me faster! I'll kill their whole family!
Tearing my dear veil, he found his death.
A gentle friend, akin to the moon, has come,
In silks and velvet she came to me,
I so wanted to see her even in a dream,
She came in reality, not in a dream.
My soul, come, I am merged with you forever,
Come quickly to my house, it grieves without you,
Come quickly to my house, come to my arms,
Well, what are you ashamed of? Now what's the shame?
You are there, I am here, and there is confusion and anxiety in my soul,
You have a lot of patience, but I have a little.
I can give my life for your patience,
It's time for me to fly like a dove at your doorstep.
Let's make up, forget about everything
Come on, like brother and sister, sit down together,
After all, life is so short and fate is so perverse,
More - God forbid! We will die apart.
So the forehead cracks that the light fades, to whom will I cry?
Will cover the cheeks yellow, to whom will I cry?
Oh, if I could put my forehead on my dear knees!
But the forehead is cracking, but not dear, to whom will I cry?
Wake up before dawn, wash your curls with incense,
And smear your black eyes with bluish antimony,
And if you wish to please Allah,
Do not forget me, in the best possible way appear before me.
You are slender, my gentle, the light of my eyes,
You are my Egyptian sugar, a pure diamond,
Sit, sit next to me, friend,
You stole my sleep, I would sleep at least for an hour.
I'll turn into your alley, I'll knock on your house,
Click: "Look out soon, I'm waiting around the corner."
If the neighbors tell me: "Your girlfriend is sleeping," -
I'll be circling over you like a white dove.
My cousin, my dill flower,
Why don't you come to the threshold in the evening?
If I say an unkind word to you,
You can plunge a blade into my chest without hesitation.
You are like a flower when you leave the flower garden,
You are like sugar when you come from the reed,
But for me you are the most beautiful and then,
When you leave the bazaar, a little tired, go.
The heart cannot fall into other people's snares,
It only has an unquenchable passion for you,
You then torment my heart,
To not want to steal it.
First, I love your sash and robe,
And secondly, you - from head to toe.
And thirdly, I love to sit next to you,
And let's send the old love to hell.
My old friend, where are you now?
You added to the soul the bitterness of loss.
Oh if I knew that you would be mine
I would build a palace of gold, believe me.
I have experienced many troubles because of you,
My soul has rejected the light because of you,
You shamed me and humiliated me so much,
All my shame - there is no doubt - because of you.
I rushed to you, my slender,
On the cheek of a mole, loving, rushed,
I heard that you want to sell a mole,
After all, you can be late, and I rushed.
Beloved, there is resentment and reproach in me,
I have become attached to you with my soul for a long time,
May fate promise me the best hundred beauties,
Everything will attract me your magical gaze.
Beloved huddled in a corner
How to heal me, she does not know.
The doctor heals the sick with medicines,
The date goes well for the lovers.
My friend goes to the flat roof,
My love recognizes me in the distance,
I see her, I feel, oh my god
Mine is talking to her soul.
You are like a flower, let me breathe your scent,
Let me breathe, come to my chest
The heart has only one desire:
Please be my wife.
I will not open my soul to anyone in a foreign land:
Well, whom will I meet there, who would understand my soul?
I have one innermost friend - a lock on my heart,
I hid the key a long time ago, I don't give it to anyone.
You are beautiful, my light, like a chamois on a rock,
Oh, slim fit, you smoke narghile.
Sleepless eyes completely you deprived of sleep,
So hug me, since you are holding me in bondage.
I would give up on a damn life,
But it's impossible, dear, to part with you,
My heart is with my beloved, I don’t know how to be
How can I go on my way without my dear.
We always expect betrayal from a woman,
Insidious darkness in the creation of unearthly,
She is our companion halfway,
And so all life goes its own way.
My dear, my dear, I completely withered,
Look into my eyes, they're drowning in tears
If you, my dear, do not come to the head,
I can’t get up from the unfortunate bed, Allah is a witness in that.
- O high, o sweet-mouthed, you are from Kerman,
What will you take for two kisses, tell me without deceit?
- My kiss is worth as much as the whole of Samarkand with Bukhara,
Here is the price of a kiss, and what did you decide: half a fog?
Hussain said: I was the bouquet of roses,
I was seriously attached to the road,
O vows of women! So it didn't come
When sick, alone, like a dog, I was.
Virgo, you are sweet in a white Kandahar veil,
Believe it or not, you took my heart away
You took everything, I'm in love with these intoxicated eyes,
Into this crystal neck and marble chela.
I want to make my way around you, like a planet,
To be antimony around beautiful eyes, summed up a little,
Let my head lie between your breasts like a button,
I want to wrap around, as if already, your tender chest.
Look at yourself, my dear dove,
Pour handfuls of sand on your head,
If you can't pay money for me,
Throw off the man's hat and put on a scarf.
From my dear hello, she sent two carnations,
To give peace to the heart and patience in full.
Ah, my sweetheart! Did a good deed!
It’s not enough for her that she is slim, tall, but also smart!
Take a rose from your beloved and inhale the smell,
Stick this rose in your curls,
If in your curls the rose will not hold,
Put between the eyebrows and tighten the string.
Each well in the zurna has its own sound, brethren,
There is a cure for every ailment, brethren,
My beloved is ready to kill a friend,
But with God's help, a friend, brethren, will be saved.
To be a victim to me of your antimony blackened eyes,
You did not keep the vows that bound us in the past.
How do you look in the eyes? Isn't it a shame?
Perhaps you were born in the country of the infidels?
Ay, black-eyed, are you making eyes at me?
Having stolen my mind, you are talking fairy tales.
Having stolen my mind, you deftly slipped away,
Why do you publicize love?
My beauty, I want to tell you
That you managed to tie your heart to yourself.
Let me have a hundred written beauties,
To your intoxicated eyes I will rush again.
Tall, slender, your spirit is interpreted, not weak,
You put me on a spit, like a kebab,
She planted me on a spit, look not charred,
Hope for the mercy of Allah is fed by your slave.
Girl, it's not good to tease Allah,
Why did you loosen your braids?
Haven't changed milk teeth yet
And she drove the free bird into the dungeon.
Ay, what a face and camp! What a magical sight!
You are death to a lover, you have lost your shame!
Why did you overwhelm my heart with a lasso?
Looks like the Last Judgment will not frighten you.
My beloved is grumbling today,
Her look is very angry today.
The one who will reconcile her with me,
Do a holy deed today.
I took a rose from my favorite hands
Smelling a rose, he suddenly became mad,
I kiss the rose, I press it to the eyelids,
After all, I received a gift from my favorite hands.
I will say without hesitation, Muslims,
About my dear, about one of her flaws,
It has no flaws, only false,
I will say this without hesitation.
Hope for women's oaths is a disaster,
Water will not serve as a support for the legs.
You can't tie milk jets with a rope,
A hero will never come out of a coward.
Let the beauty, the daughter of the Bogdykhan, be before us,
Dazzling, sweet, fragrant,
Still no trust in women's words,
For a woman is an instrument of Satan.
You become the wheat, I become the reaper
You will become a gazelle, I will become a catcher,
And if you sit like a dove on the roof,
I will become your wing, a cheerful messenger.
Who has experienced love is not afraid of death,
Blocks and prisons, believe me, not afraid
He is like a hungry wolf, what is a shepherd to him?
Let the shepherds be angry as hell - they are not afraid.
To decorate my face, I'll take white and rouge,
The old people will be kindled and the youths will be intoxicated by my dope,
I will curl my curls into rings, I will unravel my braids,
Let them catch the admirers of all, like a lasso.
I conjure you with your brother, my light,
Your drunken eyes do not harm me,
Eyes do not need to be antimony, you fight without antimony,
Like a kebab, I'm put on a skewer by you.
White bird, you are tough and proud with me,
Flew away from me, I don't know where,
She flew away from me, without thinking for a moment,
That trouble hangs over a beloved friend.
You are on the roof, roses are scattered at your feet,
I would scatter gold if I could
What's the gold! What silver! - pathetic garbage!
I brought you life and soul, God knows.
Peri, peri, why isn't life nice to you?
On the saddest day my mother gave birth to me,
Milk misfortune fed, raised,
And raised - forever gave the villain.
Behind the village of Chardekh, the salt marsh adjoins the sands,
Beloved's persies are like quince fruits,
You are thirteen years old, dear, you got engaged to me,
And at fourteen, let your lips fall to my lips.
He is beautiful, in whose heart love is deep,
He is like Farhad, in whose hands is a pickaxe,
If he is like a lion, he is mighty and brave,
He will meet his Shirin for sure.
Between me and you is a solid wall,
Between me and you - envious darkness,
I myself will come to you at a late hour or early,
I don't need a messenger, I need you yourself.
Like a mullah, you read the entire Koran, my friend,
You can heal the heart from wounds you, my friend,
You, like a sheikh, understand all men's affairs,
And in mine you are a real blockhead, my friend.
You, like a cypress trunk, are straight ahead,
Your eagle eyes drive me crazy
Those tender lips and white teeth
Like a Shiraz shop, where there are a lot of sweets.
Girlfriend, you, like a jug, have a thin throat,
You entered the heart - and breath stole,
You entered the heart of the mistress full,
There she put down roots and spread branches.
My soul, no matter how much you scream,
I'll tear your cover anyway
Then, in order to lengthen the short hem,
So that your leg does not seduce anyone.
I will wander into the Babersh quarter, my flower,
From your eyes I will take the veil, my flower,
No, I probably won't touch the veil,
I will immediately find my flower by smell.
Rudaki
Sage, philosopher, skillful poet, whose work stood at the origins of the great Persian poetry. For most of his life he was a court poet in Bukhara at the court of the Samanids. However, at the end of his life, luck turned away from him, the poet was excommunicated from the court, returned to his native village, where he lived out his life as a poor blind old man and an unrecognized poet.
Tomb of Rudaki in Panjakent / photo source: wikipedia.org
Rudaki's talent was appreciated only years later. His poems remained in the minds of a whole people, and for many centuries they come to life in the collections of other Persian poets who wrote answers and imitations to them, and his wise aphorisms adorn Persian speech to this day.
Why be offended by a friend? The hurt will pass soon.
Life is like this: today - joy, and tomorrow - pain and sorrow.
The offense of a friend is not an offense, not shame, not an insult;
When he caresses you, you will forget about the quarrel.
Is one bad deed stronger than a hundred good ones?
Is it really because of the thorns of a rose to live a lifetime of shame?
Should we look for new favorites every day?
Friend angry? Sorry, there is no point in this dispute!
Life gave me advice to my question in response, -
Thinking about it, you will understand that all life is advice:
“Don’t you dare envy someone else’s happiness,
Are you not the object of envy for others?
Life also said: “You hold back your anger.
Whoever looses his tongue is bound by a chain of troubles.
Oh, woe to me! fate I did not know worse:
To be the husband of an evil wife who changes husbands.
I will not instill fear in her, if I come to her with a lion;
And I'm afraid of the fly that sat next to her.
Although she is grumpy and rude to me,
I hope I don't die, save the rest of my days.
We know: only God is not like any of the mortals,
You are not similar to anyone, but more beautiful than a deity!
Who will say: "The day is rising!" - will show us the sun,
But only he will point to you first.
You are everything that man in the old days glorified,
And you are the words of praise for the future!
Ferdowsi
Ferdowsi is a poet, philosopher, creator of the greatest work in the history of Persian literature, Shahnameh, which covered the history of the reign of all Iranian dynasties and influenced the worldview of an entire people.
Funeral of Ferdowsi. Painting by Gazanfar Khalykov (1934) / photo source: wikipedia.org
After two centuries of Arab domination, Samanid Iran experienced a cultural surge and the growth of national identity, as a result of which the Iranians showed an extraordinary interest in the historical past of their people and sought to recreate it in literary works.
According to legend, Firdowsi was promised one gold dinar for each bayt written, which was a very large amount. But the ruler allegedly did not approve of the work of the poet and paid him in silver. Ferdowsi considered this an insult to his talent, moved away from the court and lived in poverty until the end of his life. According to the same legend, Shah Mahmud Ghaznevi, having accidentally heard a verse from the Shahnameh dedicated to himself, hurried to find out the name of the author as soon as possible in order to generously reward him. He ordered to send a rich gift to Firdousi, but he died the day before. At the very time when camels with gifts from the Shah entered one city gate, the body of the poet was carried out through the other.
Another knew how to cut a line beautifully,
With witticisms, the other shone eloquently,
And although a lot of effort went into this brilliance -
What I did, nobody did.
I've been working tirelessly for thirty years
And in the song he recreated the greatness of Iran.
Everything in the world will be covered with the dust of oblivion,
Only two know neither death nor decay:
Only the work of a hero and the speech of a sage
Centuries pass without knowing the end.
Nizami
One of the greatest poets of the medieval literature of the East, the largest Romantic poet in Persian epic literature, who brought colloquial speech and realistic style to the epic. Nizami, thanks to his talent, managed to combine in poetry two fundamentally different worldviews - pre-Islamic and Islamic Iran.
Leyli and Majnun. 16th-century miniature from the Hamsa manuscript / photo source: wikipedia.org
His main literary breakthrough was Pyateritsa (Hamse), a collection of five epic love poems that together paint an ideal picture of the world with an ideal ruler at the head. Later, Nizami's "Five" marked the beginning of writing answers and imitations, this tradition became one of the main distinguishing features of the Persian poetry of the Middle Ages.
Sometimes love goes away on its own
Neither touched the heart nor the mind.
That is not love, but youth fun.
Love has no right to perish without a trace.
She comes to live forever
Until a man perishes in the ground.
Omar Khayyam
There is not a single Persian poet whose fame could overshadow that of Omar Khayyam.
The Western world discovered his work after the release of "Ruba'yata" translated by E. Fitzgerald, but in Iran Khayyam is known rather as an outstanding scientist, philosopher, mathematician, astronomer and doctor. Khayyam's poems turned out to be too dangerous and free-thinking for the Islamic worldview, so he wrote for a close circle of friends and students and did not strive for universal recognition as a poet.
Monument to Khayyam in Bucharest / photo source: wikipedia.org
Nevertheless, he made a huge contribution to Persian poetry, expressing philosophical and edifying ideas in the form of quatrains - "ruba'i" (from the Arabic "slave" - four), in which the first two lines form a thesis, the third line without rhyme - antithesis, and the last line is an instruction and the main idea.
Don't piss off others and don't piss yourself off
We are guests in this mortal world.
And if something is wrong - humble yourself!
Be smart and smile.
Think with a cold head.
After all, everything in the world is natural:
The evil you radiated
Will definitely come back to you.
Who was beaten by life, he will achieve more,
A pood of salt who has eaten appreciates honey more.
Who shed tears, he sincerely laughs,
Who died, he knows that he lives.
I went to the sage and asked him:
"What is love?" He said "Nothing"
But I know a lot of books have been written:
Eternity is written by some, while others - what a moment
It will scorch with fire, then it will melt like snow,
What is love? "It's all human!"
And then I looked him straight in the face,
How can I understand you? "Nothing or everything?"
He said with a smile: “You yourself gave the answer!:
Nothing or everything! There is no middle ground here!
Although not new, I will remind you again:
In the face of both friend and foe
You are the master of the unspoken word
And the spoken word - you are a servant.
Saadi
The future poet was orphaned early and, without completing his education, spent the first half of his life wandering around the Middle East in search of answers to his questions. Saadi spent about 25 years away from his native places, met with completely different people who shaped his worldview. His life was full of adventures.
Manuscript sheet with lines of a poem from "Bustan" / photo source: wikipedia.org
Returning to Shiraz, Saadi created two of the greatest instructive works "Bustan" and "Gulistan", in which he expressed his view of ethics and morality, based on his own experience and observations during his travels. Saadi in his works talks about friendship and enmity, considers the actions of a person in various life circumstances and, avoiding categoricalness, offers two options for resolving the same situation, leaving the reader the right to choose.
Speech is the highest gift; and loving wisdom
Don't kill yourself with stupid words.
The man of few words will avoid shame;
A grain of ambergris is better than a heap of litter.
Ignorant talkative, O sage, run,
Save your thoughts for the chosen one.
A hundred arrows shot by a bad shooter, all by;
Let one go, but steadily on the target.
The one who weaves slander does not know,
That slander will then kill him.
Do not slander, do not listen to slander!
After all, they say that the walls have ears.
Hafiz
The great Persian poet, who created the image of a new hero, a freethinker with a strong personal beginning, capable, despite all the vicissitudes of fate, to maintain his human dignity and desire for happiness. Persian poetry in the work of Hafiz reached the apogee of the complexity of the language and metaphorical images.
Mausoleum of Hafiz in Shiraz has long turned into a place of pilgrimage / photo source: melli.org
Shamseddin Mohammed (real name of the poet) lived in Shiraz. From his youth, he was drawn to knowledge and for some time earned his living by reciting the sutras of the Qur'an by heart - such a professional reader was called a "hafiz" (Persian "one who recites by heart"). When during his lifetime he gained fame as the greatest master of the ghazal, the nickname Hafiz became not only a literary pseudonym, but also a common noun, meaning a folk poet.
Do not interrupt, O my breast, your tearful starfall:
Let the beats of my heart crush my whole soul!
You will tell us: "I know that Turkic woman well, -
Her family is from Samarkand! But you were wrong, brother:
That girl entered me from Rudaki's line:
"The Mulyana Stream brings us that maiden's scent"
Tell me: who knows peace under the storms of heaven?
O butler, give me wine! At least I'll be glad to sleep.
Isn't it a delusion to seek peace in love?
After all, there is no cure for love, the elders tell us.
You are weak? Renounce drunkenness! But if the strong is sober,
Let, having ignited hearts, incinerate debauchery!
Yes, I think it's time to regenerate people:
The world must be created anew - otherwise it is hell!
But what can Hafiz be able to give with his tear?
In a stream of tears, she floats like a dewdrop at random.
Meanness has become a habit. There is no in the world
No honesty, no loyalty to a vow.
Talent stands with outstretched hand,
Begging for a copper coin.
Looking for protection from poverty and troubles,
A learned man wanders the world.
But the ignoramus now flourishes:
Don't touch him - he will instantly call him to account!
And if someone lays down a verse like
Ringing stream or dawn, -
Be this poet, like Sanai, skillful -
And a stale crust will not be given to a poet.
Wisdom whispers to me: "Get away from the world,
Shut up in yourself, endure this insult.
Become like a flute in your lamentations,
In patience and perseverance - an ascetic.
And my advice: "Fell - start over!"
Hafiz, follow this advice.
The insidious course of fate is invisible and inaudible -
After all, everyone around is deaf, and everyone is equally blind.
Let the sun and moon be the foot of those who are in power,
A bed is also waiting for them - a dark crypt made of clay.
Will chain mail save you from the arrows of smashing fate?
Will you repel the blows of evil destinies with a shield?
Protect yourself with a wall of solid steel -
But the day will come, and death will break through the iron held together.
Close the open entrance of life from lust,
So that your path does not lead you to a den of passions.
On the wheel of fate - look how much dust!
Run from greed, appreciate your meager bread.
I am a hermit. I don't care about games and circuses here.
To the whole universe, if your lane is, I don’t care.
Hey soul! You should ask me at least once what I need!
As long as I get to heaven's doors, I don't care.
Padishah of beauty! Here I am - a beggar, a dervish, a burnt man...
Before the concepts: prosperity, dignity, honor - I don’t care.
I have a bold request; to everything else,
If I can’t pronounce it before God, I don’t care.
You want our blood. You betray us with plunder.
As for the belongings of the poor - where to carry them away - I don’t care.
The mind of a friend is like a cup of Jamshid that reflected the world.
And whether this message has reached you or not, I don't care.
I am grateful to the pearl. Let the sea of noon
It was decided to cover this sandbank with sands - I don’t care.
Away, swindler! My friends are with me! Before I decided
Having agreed with the enemies, you lime me - I don’t care.
I am a lover dervish. If the sultana has not forgotten me,
As far as prayers, before they are lifted up to heaven, I don’t care.
I am Hafiz. My virtue is with me. To slander and slander
What contemptible envy and revenge weave together is none of my business.
At the cost of sad thoughts and sadness
You will hardly find your daily bread.
Zeal, which is inopportune, is worthy of only curses.
Only a rare person finds a treasure, whoever works all the time is rich.
The milkman, who diluted milk with water, praises his goods noisier than others.
If the bird has escaped from the cage, heaven is everywhere for it - on every branch.
No matter how high the peak is, there is a path to it for sure.
Excessive praise is more dangerous than blasphemy.
If you want to be smart, forget your whims:
All whims are worthless fun.
Well, if you live some kind of dream,
Dream of finding peace of mind, right!
All worldly concerns have an empty essence:
Everything in this world is vain, cunning.
We are all given the last sleep to fall asleep -
Oh, if good glory awaited us!
Jami
Persian poet-mystic, Sufi and philosopher. He is the last major representative of the classical period of Persian-Tajik poetry, after which the separate development of Persian and Tajik literature began. Jami is the author of the "Septenary", consisting of seven poems - masnavi, five of which were the answer to the "Five" by Nizami and two - the authorship of Jami himself. In addition, he left two sofas (collection of works) of lyrical ghazals and a large number of prose works, both artistic and philosophical.
Yusuf and Zuleikha. 15th-century miniature from a manuscript of Jami's works / photo source: wikipedia.org
We torment with unbearable flour
One who is envious of others.
All my life longing and malice breathing,
His soul is tied with a knot.
Rumi
Rumi, also known under the pseudonym Moulana, is an outstanding Persian Sufi poet.
The Rumi family, for a number of political reasons, was forced to flee to Asia Minor (Rum), where, after long wanderings, they settled at the court of the Seljuk Turks. Jalaladdin Rumi received a good education and was fluent in Persian and Arabic. After the death of his father, Rumi became imbued with Sufi sentiments, which caused disapproval among the clergy. In recent years, Rumi devoted himself to literary creativity and preaching.
Rumi's tomb in Konya / photo source: wikipedia.org
Rumi in his works reveals the idea of the greatness of a person, regardless of his social position and status. Expressing himself in a very metaphorical language and using complex poetic forms, he propagated the ideas of Sufism.
Whenever you trust not words,
And the truth that the heart knows,
Yes, the heart that ignites from the truth,
There would be no limit to miracles.
That's how misunderstanding sometimes
Able to replace friendship with enmity,
How can anger be born in the hearts
The same thing in different languages.
Turks, Persians, Arabs and Greeks walked together.
And here is some kind person
Gave coins to friends
And thus the discord between them brewed
Then the Persian said to others: “Let's go
On the market and angur * we will get!
"You're lying, rogue," the Arab interrupted him in his hearts, "
I don't want angur! I want Einab!”
And the Turk interrupted them: “What a noise,
My friends? Isn’t uzum better!”
“What kind of people are you! - the Greek exclaimed to them -
Let's buy Stafil and eat it!"
And so they came to a decision
But, not understanding each other, they fought.
They did not know, naming the grapes,
They are talking about the same thing.
Ignorance in them kindled anger,
Damage to teeth and ribs.
Oh, if only a hundred-tongue were with them,
He would have reconciled them with one word.
"With your money," he would tell them,
I'll buy what all four of you need.
I will quadruple your coin
And again I will establish peace between you!
Quadruple, though not divided,
I will buy everything I want!
The words of the ignorant bring war
Mine are unity, peace and silence.”
Quote explanation:
* - Angur (Tajik), Einab (Arabic), Uzum (Turkic), Stafil (Greek) - grapes
Amir Khosrow Dehlavi
In the 11th century, Islam spread to the northwest of India, leading to Indo-Iranian cultural interaction. In the 13th century, due to the Mongol invasion, many representatives of Iranian culture migrated to India. Among them was Amir Khosrow Dehlavi.
Alexander visits the sage Plato. Miniature from "Khamsa" Dehlavi / photo source: wikipedia.org
Proximity to the Sufi dervish order "Chishti" was reflected in his work; he praised in verse the head of the order, Nizamaddin Aulia, calling him a spiritual mentor.
Based on Nizami's Five, Dehlavi wrote 10 poems, some of which were responses to already existing works. Skillfully combining Persian plots and Indian reality, the poet managed to create a completely new atmosphere in the seemingly unshakable Persian literary tradition.
I came into this world, already in love with you,
Doomed to torment in advance.
I'm looking for meetings with you, I'm looking for insight,
But I can't forget my pride for a moment.
Oh, have mercy and throw off the thick veil,
So that the heart fell on its face and lost God!
Throw arrogance away, opening your face,
So that pride lifts me to the abode of paradise.
And if you don't grace me with a look,
I will leave this world that became hell during my life.
No, I will not let anyone captivate my heart from now on,
To live in his captivity as a hermit in the desert.
And what did Khosrow hear in response to the groans:
“Your turn will come, hope, O lover!”
Nasir Khosrow
One of the outstanding representatives of classical literature in Farsi was the follower of Ismailism Nasir Khosrow. He led an idle life and, in his own words, traveled a lot, drank a lot of wine, and spent his days in amusements.
A street in the center of Tehran bears the name of Nasir Khosrov / photo source: kojaro.com
However, in the middle of his life, he decides to drastically change his lifestyle and goes on a pilgrimage to holy places. He was prompted to such a turn of fate by a dream in which someone urged him to go in search of truth, pointing in the direction of the Ka'aba. Khosrow himself later described that he woke up from a sleep of forty years.
May your life be a joy to all others.
Give yourself to others like bunches of grapes.
But if you don't have such a big soul -
Let the little one shine like a lamp.
Do not upset people by deed or word,
It is necessary to listen to any human longing!
The sick - heal! Suffering - comfort!
The torment of the earth is sometimes crueler than hell.
You are the riot of youth, like an animal, tame,
Always serve as a joy to your father and mother.
Don't forget that mother made us drunk
The father raised his own child.
Therefore fear in your carelessness
Into their old hearts pour even a drop of poison.
In addition, the hour will blow: you yourself will become an old man,
Do not break, brother, the sacred order.
So, live for everyone. Don't think about yourself
And your lot will shine like the highest reward.
For the horse of eloquence, a running circle -
This is your inner horizon of being.
Who is the rider? - Soul.
Make the mind bridle
Thought is a familiar saddle,
and the victory is yours!
Trouble for the one who took it upon himself
The thing is that there is no strength to fulfill.
When you participate in the jump of the dispute,
Do not get excited, and you will not fall soon.
In the bitter advice that a friend gives us,
Outside - bitterness, in the core - honey.
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