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.
‘Iyádí said, “Ninety times I came (into battle) unarmed, that perchance I might be (mortally) wounded.
تن برهنه می‌شدم در پیش تیر ** تا یکی تیری خورم من جای‌گیر
I went unarmed to meet the arrows, in order that I might receive a deep-seated (deadly) arrow-wound.
تیر خوردن بر گلو یا مقتلی ** در نیابد جز شهیدی مقبلی
None but a fortunate martyr attains unto (the happiness of) receiving an arrow-wound in the throat or any vital spot.
بر تنم یک جایگه بی‌زخم نیست ** این تنم از تیر چون پرویز نیست
No place in my body is without wounds: this body of mine is like a sieve from (being pierced with) arrows;
لیک بر مقتل نیامد تیرها ** کار بخت است این نه جلدی و دها
But the arrows never (once) hit a vital spot: this is a matter of luck, not of bravery or cunning.
چون شهیدی روزی جانم نبود ** رفتم اندر خلوت و در چله زود 3785
When (I saw that) martyrdom was not the lot of my spirit, I went immediately into (religious) seclusion and (entered on) a forty days' fast.
در جهاد اکبر افکندم بدن ** در ریاضت کردن و لاغر شدن
I threw myself into the Greater Warfare (which consists) in practising austerities and becoming lean.
بانگ طبل غازیان آمد به گوش ** که خرامیدند جیش غزوکوش
(One day) there reached my ear the sound of the drums of the holy warriors; for the hard-fighting army was on the march.
نفس از باطن مرا آواز داد ** که به گوش حس شنیدم بامداد
My fleshly soul cried out to me from within: at morningtide I heard (its voice) with my sensuous ear,
خیز هنگام غزا آمد برو ** خویش را در غزو کردن کن گرو
(Saying), ‘Arise! ’Tis time to fight. Go, devote thyself to fighting in the holy war!’
گفتم ای نفس خبیث بی‌وفا ** از کجا میل غزا تو از کجا 3790
I answered, ‘O wicked perfidious soul, what hast thou to do with the desire to fight?
راست گوی ای نفس کین حیلت‌گریست ** ورنه نفس شهوت از طاعت بریست
Tell the truth, O my soul! This is trickery. Else (why wouldst thou fight)?—the lustful soul is quit of obedience (to the Divine command).
گر نگویی راست حمله آرمت ** در ریاضت سخت‌تر افشارمت
Unless thou tell the truth, I will attack thee, I will squeeze (torment) thee more painfully (than before) in maceration.’
نفس بانگ آورد آن دم از درون ** با فصاحت بی‌دهان اندر فسون
Thereupon my soul, mutely eloquent, cried out in guile from within me,
که مرا هر روز اینجا می‌کشی ** جان من چون جان گبران می‌کشی
‘Here thou art killing me daily, thou art putting my (vital) spirit (on the rack), like the spirits of infidels.
هیچ کس را نیست از حالم خبر ** که مرا تو می‌کشی بی‌خواب و خور 3795
No one is aware of my plight—how thou art killing me (by keeping me) without sleep and food.
در غزا بجهم به یک زخم از بدن ** خلق بیند مردی و ایثار من
In war I should escape from the body at one stroke, and the people would see my manly valour and self-sacrifice.’
گفتم ای نفسک منافق زیستی ** هم منافق می‌مری تو چیستی
I replied, ‘O wretched soul, a hypocrite thou hast lived and a hypocrite thou wilt die: what (a pitiful thing) art thou!
در دو عالم تو مرایی بوده‌ای ** در دو عالم تو چنین بیهوده‌ای
In both worlds thou hast been a hypocrite, in both worlds thou art such a worthless creature.’
نذر کردم که ز خلوت هیچ من ** سر برون نارم چو زنده‌ست این بدن
I vowed that I would never put my head outside of (come out of) seclusion, seeing that this body is alive,
زانک در خلوت هر آنچ تن کند ** نه از برای روی مرد و زن کند 3800
Because everything that this body does in seclusion it does with no regard to man or woman.
جنبش و آرامش اندر خلوتش ** جز برای حق نباشد نیتش
During seclusion the intention of (all) its movement and rest is for God's sake only.”
این جهاد اکبرست آن اصغرست ** هر دو کار رستمست و حیدرست
This is the Greater Warfare, and that (other) is the Lesser Warfare: both are (fit) work for (men like) Rustam and Haydar (‘Alí).
کار آن کس نیست کو را عقل و هوش ** پرد از تن چون بجنبد دنب موش
They are not (fit) work for one whose reason and wits fly out of his body when a mouse's tail moves.
آن چنان کس را بباید چون زنان ** دور بودن از مصاف و از سنان
Such a one must stay, like women, far off from the battle-field and the spears.
صوفیی آن صوفیی این اینت حیف ** آن ز سوزن کشته این را طعمه سیف 3805
That one a Súfí and this one (too) a Súfí! Here's a pity! That one is killed by a needle, while the sword is this one's food.
نقش صوفی باشد او را نیست جان ** صوفیان بدنام هم زین صوفیان
He (the false Súfí) is (only) the figure of a Súfí: he has no soul (life); accordingly, the (true) Súfís get a bad name from Súfís such as these.
بر در و دیوار جسم گل‌سرشت ** حق ز غیرت نقش صد صوفی نبشت
Upon the door and wall of the body moulded of clay God, in His jealousy, traced the figures of a hundred Súfís (of this sort),
تا ز سحر آن نقشها جنبان شود ** تا عصای موسوی پنهان شود
To the end that by means of magic those figures should move and that Moses' rod should be hidden.
نقشها را میخورد صدق عصا ** چشم فرعونیست پر گرد و حصا
The truth of the rod swallows up the figures, (but) the Pharaoh-like eye is filled with dust and gravel (and cannot see).
صوفی دیگر میان صف حرب ** اندر آمد بیست بار از بهر ضرب 3810
Another Súfí entered the battle-line twenty times for the purpose of fighting
با مسلمانان به کافر وقت کر ** وانگشت او با مسلمانان به فر
Along with the Moslems when they attacked the infidels; he did not fall back with the Moslems in their retreat.
زخم خورد و بست زخمی را که خورد ** بار دیگر حمله آورد و نبرد
He was wounded, but he bandaged the wound which he had received, and once more advanced to the charge and combat,
تا نمیرد تن به یک زخم از گزاف ** تا خورد او بیست زخم اندر مصاف
In order that his body might not die cheaply at one blow and that he might receive twenty blows in the battle.
حیفش آمد که به زخمی جان دهد ** جان ز دست صدق او آسان رهد
To him it was anguish that he should give up his soul at one blow and that his soul should escape lightly from the hand of his fortitude.
حکایت آن مجاهد کی از همیان سیم هر روز یک درم در خندق انداختی به تفاریق از بهر ستیزه‌ی حرص و آرزوی نفس و وسوسه‌ی نفس کی چون می‌اندازی به خندق باری به یک‌بار بینداز تا خلاص یابم کی الیاس احدی الراحتین او گفته کی این راحت نیز ندهم
Story of the (spiritual) warrior who every day used to take one dirhem separately from a purse containing (pieces of) silver and throw it into a ditch (full of water) for the purpose of thwarting the greed and cupidity of his fleshly soul; and how his soul tempted him, saying, “Since you are going to throw (this money) into the ditch, at least throw it away all at once, so that I may gain deliverance, for despair is one of the two (possible) reliefs”; and how he replied, “I will not give thee this relief either.”
آن یکی بودش به کف در چل درم ** هر شب افکندی یکی در آب یم 3815
A certain man had forty dirhems in his hand: every night he would throw one (of them) into the sea-water,