The party (of soldiers) said to him, “With such a stomach as thou hast, do not approach the (field of) battle and war.
قوم گفتندش به پیکار و نبرد ** با چنین زهره که تو داری مگرد
Since thou wert sunk and thy ship wrecked by the eye of that pinioned prisoner,
چون ز چشم آن اسیر بستهدست ** غرقه گشتی کشتی تو در شکست
How, then, amidst the onset of the fierce lions (champions), to whose swords the head (of an enemy) is like a ball,3770
پس میان حملهی شیران نر ** که بود با تیغشان چون گوی سر
Canst thou swim in blood, when thou art not familiar with the warfare of (brave) men?—
کی توانی کرد در خون آشنا ** چون نهای با جنگ مردان آشنا
For the pounding noise made by fullers is banal in comparison with the clang of (swords when) smiting necks (on the battle-field).
که ز طاقاطاق گردنها زدن ** طاقطاق جامه کوبان ممتهن
(There thou wilt see) many a headless body that is (still) quivering, many a bodiless head (floating) on blood, like bubbles.
بس تن بیسر که دارد اضطراب ** بس سر بیتن به خون بر چون حباب
In war, hundreds of death-dealing (heroes) are drowned under the legs of the horses in (a sea of) death.
زیر دست و پای اسپان در غزا ** صد فنا کن غرقه گشته در فنا
How will wits like these (of thine), which flew away from (fear of) a mouse, draw the sword in that battle-line?3775
این چنین هوشی که از موشی پرید ** اندر آن صف تیغ چون خواهد کشید
’Tis war, not (a matter of) supping wheat-broth (hamza), that thou shouldst turn up thy sleeve to sup it.
چالش است آن حمزه خوردن نیست این ** تا تو برمالی بخوردن آستین
’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.
نیست حمزه خوردن اینجا تیغ بین ** حمزهای باید درین صف آهنین
Fighting is not the business of any faint-heart who runs away from a spectre (hallucination), like a (flitting) spectre.
کار هر نازکدلی نبود قتال ** که گریزد از خیالی چون خیال
’Tis the business of Turks (Turkán), not of (women like) Tarkán. Begone! Home is the place for Tarkán: go home!”
کار ترکانست نه ترکان برو ** جای ترکان هست خانه خانه شو
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.
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
‘Iyádí said, “Ninety times I came (into battle) unarmed, that perchance I might be (mortally) wounded.3780
گفت عیاضی نود بار آمدم ** تن برهنه بوک زخمی آیدم
I went unarmed to meet the arrows, in order that I might receive a deep-seated (deadly) arrow-wound.
تن برهنه میشدم در پیش تیر ** تا یکی تیری خورم من جایگیر
None but a fortunate martyr attains unto (the happiness of) receiving an arrow-wound in the throat or any vital spot.
تیر خوردن بر گلو یا مقتلی ** در نیابد جز شهیدی مقبلی
No place in my body is without wounds: this body of mine is like a sieve from (being pierced with) arrows;
بر تنم یک جایگه بیزخم نیست ** این تنم از تیر چون پرویز نیست
But the arrows never (once) hit a vital spot: this is a matter of luck, not of bravery or cunning.
لیک بر مقتل نیامد تیرها ** کار بخت است این نه جلدی و دها
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.3785
چون شهیدی روزی جانم نبود ** رفتم اندر خلوت و در چله زود
I threw myself into the Greater Warfare (which consists) in practising austerities and becoming lean.
در جهاد اکبر افکندم بدن ** در ریاضت کردن و لاغر شدن
(One day) there reached my ear the sound of the drums of the holy warriors; for the hard-fighting army was on the march.
بانگ طبل غازیان آمد به گوش ** که خرامیدند جیش غزوکوش
My fleshly soul cried out to me from within: at morningtide I heard (its voice) with my sensuous ear,
نفس از باطن مرا آواز داد ** که به گوش حس شنیدم بامداد
(Saying), ‘Arise! ’Tis time to fight. Go, devote thyself to fighting in the holy war!’
خیز هنگام غزا آمد برو ** خویش را در غزو کردن کن گرو
I answered, ‘O wicked perfidious soul, what hast thou to do with the desire to fight?3790
گفتم ای نفس خبیث بیوفا ** از کجا میل غزا تو از کجا
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).
راست گوی ای نفس کین حیلتگریست ** ورنه نفس شهوت از طاعت بریست
Unless thou tell the truth, I will attack thee, I will squeeze (torment) thee more painfully (than before) in maceration.’
گر نگویی راست حمله آرمت ** در ریاضت سختتر افشارمت