زین قدر خرپشته مردی از شکوه ** چون روی بر عقبه‌های هم‌چو کوه
You are dead with fear of a ridge of this (small) size: how will you climb up precipices (big) as a mountain?
غازیان کشتند کافر را بتیغ ** هم در آن ساعت ز حمیت بی‌دریغ
The warriors, (moved) by (religious) zeal, at that very instant ruthlessly put the infidel to the sword.
بر رخ صوفی زدند آب و گلاب ** تا به هوش آید ز بی‌خویشی و خواب 3760
They sprinkled water and rose-water on the face of the Súfí, that he might recover from his unconsciousness and the sleep (of his senses).
چون به خویش آمد بدید آن قوم را ** پس بپرسیدند چون بد ماجرا
When he came to himself, he saw the party (of soldiers), and they asked him how it had happened,
الله الله این چه حالست ای عزیز ** این چنین بیهوش گشتی از چه چیز
(Saying), “God! God! what is the matter, O worshipful one? By what thing wert thou made so senseless?
از اسیر نیم‌کشت بسته‌دست ** این چنین بیهوش افتادی و پست
Was a half-killed pinioned infidel the cause of thy falling into such a senseless and abject plight?”
گفت چون قصد سرش کردم به خشم ** طرفه در من بنگرید آن شوخ‌چشم
He replied, “When I attempted (to cut off) his head in anger, the impudent fellow looked at me queerly.
چشم را وا کرد پهن او سوی من ** چشم گردانید و شد هوشم ز تن 3765
He opened his eyes wide at me: he rolled his eyes, and consciousness vanished from my body.
گردش چشمش مرا لشکر نمود ** من ندانم گفت چون پر هول بود
The rolling of his eyes seemed to me an army: I cannot describe how terrible it was.
قصه کوته کن کزان چشم این چنین ** رفتم از خود اوفتادم بر زمین
(Let me) cut the story short: from (fright at) those eyes I became so beside myself and fell to the ground.”
نصیحت مبارزان او را کی با این دل و زهره کی تو داری کی از کلابیسه شدن چشم کافر اسیری دست بسته بیهوش شوی و دشنه از دست بیفتد زنهار زنهار ملازم مطبخ خانقاه باش و سوی پیکار مرو تا رسوا نشوی
How the champions (of Islam) counselled him, saying, “Since thou hast so little heart (courage) and stomach (pluck) that thou art made senseless by the rolling of a captive and pinioned infidel's eyes, so that the dagger drops from thy hand, take heed, take heed! Keep to the kitchen of the Súfí convent and do not go to battle lest thou incur public disgrace!”
قوم گفتندش به پیکار و نبرد ** با چنین زهره که تو داری مگرد
The party (of soldiers) said to him, “With such a stomach as thou hast, do not approach the (field of) battle and war.
چون ز چشم آن اسیر بسته‌دست ** غرقه گشتی کشتی تو در شکست
Since thou wert sunk and thy ship wrecked by the eye of that pinioned prisoner,
پس میان حمله‌ی شیران نر ** که بود با تیغشان چون گوی سر 3770
How, then, amidst the onset of the fierce lions (champions), to whose swords the head (of an enemy) is like a ball,
کی توانی کرد در خون آشنا ** چون نه‌ای با جنگ مردان آشنا
Canst thou swim in blood, when thou art not familiar with the warfare of (brave) men?—
که ز طاقاطاق گردنها زدن ** طاق‌طاق جامه کوبان ممتهن
For the pounding noise made by fullers is banal in comparison with the clang of (swords when) smiting necks (on the battle-field).
بس تن بی‌سر که دارد اضطراب ** بس سر بی‌تن به خون بر چون حباب
(There thou wilt see) many a headless body that is (still) quivering, many a bodiless head (floating) on blood, like bubbles.
زیر دست و پای اسپان در غزا ** صد فنا کن غرقه گشته در فنا
In war, hundreds of death-dealing (heroes) are drowned under the legs of the horses in (a sea of) death.
این چنین هوشی که از موشی پرید ** اندر آن صف تیغ چون خواهد کشید 3775
How will wits like these (of thine), which flew away from (fear of) a mouse, draw the sword in that battle-line?
چالش است آن حمزه خوردن نیست این ** تا تو برمالی بخوردن آستین
’Tis war, not (a matter of) supping wheat-broth (hamza), that thou shouldst turn up thy sleeve to sup it.
نیست حمزه خوردن اینجا تیغ بین ** حمزه‌ای باید درین صف آهنین
’Tis not (like) supping wheat-broth; here (on the field of battle) eye the sword! In this battle-line one needs a Hamza of iron.
کار هر نازک‌دلی نبود قتال ** که گریزد از خیالی چون خیال
Fighting is not the business of any faint-heart who runs away from a spectre (hallucination), like a (flitting) spectre.
کار ترکانست نه ترکان برو ** جای ترکان هست خانه خانه شو
’Tis the business of Turks (Turkán), not of (women like) Tarkán. Begone! Home is the place for Tarkán: go home!”
حکایت عیاضی رحمه‌الله کی هفتاد غزو کرده بود سینه برهنه بر امید شهید شدن چون از آن نومید شد از جهاد اصغر رو به جهاد اکبر آورد و خلوت گزید ناگهان طبل غازیان شنید نفس از اندرون زنجیر می‌درانید سوی غزا و متهم داشتن او نفس خود را درین رغبت
Story of ‘Iyádí, may God have mercy on him, who had taken part in seventy campaigns against the infidels and had always fought with his breast bare (unprotected by armour), in the hope that he might become a martyr; and how, despairing of that, he turned from the Lesser Warfare to the Greater Warfare and adopted the practice of (religious) seclusion; and how he suddenly heard the drums of the holy warriors, and the fleshly soul within him urged him violently to take the field; and how he suspected (the motives of) his fleshly soul in desiring this.