Divân-ı Kebir
Sometimes you enter the heart, sometimes you are born from the soul; sometimes you weep from separation, you burn the lamentations; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
Sometimes you are the beauty of beauties, sometimes you are the one who breaks idols; sometimes you are neither this nor that; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
Man runs with his foot, angel flies with his wings, yet still he sees nothing but helplessness and goes away; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
The angel’s wings, the man’s foot remain, but if they are both in you, they know you only through that absence; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
You came to my eyes like the taste of drunkenness, but you also blocked and closed the path of understanding; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
You run like a vision in the chosen heart, you speak, you are heard; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
Neither a king nor a rival are you. Neither fire nor smoke are you. Neither perfume nor firewood are you; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
Neither a comforter nor a soul are you. Neither a ship nor Noah are you. Neither a blessing nor an unexpected fortune are you; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
Your sorrow seized the hem of your soul and pulled it toward a mine, a hidden treasure; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
When it pulled it toward the treasure, it separated you from the whole people, and now no one can see you; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
In the Ist. Univ. edition, this repeated part is: “ne âfetsin, ne belâsın sen”.
Mevlânâ
I said to you: Who is this, why do you want me to speak, why do you want me to listen? But be silent, be silent, enough of these words; neither a king nor a benefactor are you. *
What is this eagerness, my soul, don’t smile at me, don’t hurt me; show me the way, shelter me somewhere; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
The whole world’s love is for you; but you are hidden from everyone; you are hidden, you are in the middle, you resemble the soul; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
You boil me like a pot and excite me, then you say, be quiet, why are you excited and boiling? Is there a place for patience, a place for silence? Neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
Boil my heart pot, excite it; burn my water, my soil; let my writing, my identity be torn apart; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
Let it burn and let me grow; let me speak words belonging to the fire, let my nature resemble the firewood; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
No more talk about it, the time for drinking wine has come; finish the speech with wine; neither a king nor a benefactor are you.
Divân-ı Kebir
CCLXXİN
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(p. 186) Once again we have come to the threshold of a master whose carpet no sea can reach to his knees.
Even if you use thousands of minds, even if you delve into thousands of thoughts, you still cannot reach him; from where will a hand reach the Moon in the sky, or a foot reach it?
Even the sky has fallen into hope and stretched its neck; it could not kiss it, could not kiss it, but it tasted a little taste.
Even on our heads, the condor poured down the honey of power, and thousands of throats, thousands of mouths stretched toward his lips.
Again we have come to the threshold of such a beloved that even the sound of his breath reaches our ears with hey-hey.
Again we have come to the threshold of one who has never left us; because without a lock, the door does not close.
Again we have come to that harem; such a place that the heads bow down like the sky.
Again we have come to that meadow, that grassland, where the nightingale of that place is Zümrüdüanka, the servant of the beloved.
The lock always sticks to the key, clings to it, and says without you, I have no hand, no wrist, no precaution at all.
Again we have come to that gathering where the tongue, the palate, the sweets have not yet tasted the delicious meal.
Again we have come to the threshold of that sky where even when the soul is silent, the sky roars like thunder.
Again we have come to the threshold of that love where even Satan produces angels because of its torment.
Be silent and complete the rest from under your tongue, from within you; because there is a vigilant lala who sees you.
Speak little of Tebriz’s praised Shamseddin; because the mind cannot speak of him, it is not even worthy of him.
Mevlânâ
CCLXXII
Even before dawn, my heart is seized by a passion, it is flying; because the one who set the trap has a matter, a trade with me.
What dream did my heart see last night that today there is this excitement, this distraction in my head?
But what can my heart do, since the officials appointed by fate and destiny come one after another to the heart.
The house of the heart is filled with officials who do not know language, who do not understand speech; not even a needle’s point has a place for an excuse.
There is no excuse, but even if there were, where is the tongue, where is the heart? There is no place to run away, but even if there were, where would I find a foot to run?
The world is like a straw bundle, and we are like a flood descending from the mountains; run and play, throwing ourselves into the sea, never ceasing to flow. I
Floods do not flow on level ground, but they rise in torrents, weep, yet step by step they advance, and their flow is pleasing, something to be seen.
How can I not weep, when he has seized my mouth with both hands, like a flute?
My desire, my fancy, my thoughts of “I will do this, I will act thus” have made me sit and dwell in thoughts; but I have no knowledge that there is no tomorrow anymore.
I am a servant, a slave to love; he is the seeker, the pursuer; he knows no credit, no promise, no fancy.
i
Divân-ı Kebir
CCLXXIV <
Even before dawn, my heart has been seized by love; even before dawn, I have fallen into an untimely fancy.
How can I not weep, when love has kindled a fire in my tongue; this untimely fire is ever increasing, ever burning.
I am reciting the lamentations of the dragon of sorrow, blowing them with the wind; his breath is fire, and his lamentation is like water.
Where was my heart yesterday, I wonder, when a new kind of sorrow has appeared, and my heart and face have turned pale and withered.
My body has turned into a heap of ashes, coming without hesitation, without shame; for beneath that ash there is a fire, there is a sea.
O beloved, you are seeking his fire; I, on the other hand, am going on with my tricks, my ways, my “hey-hey”s.
My heart has been broken by the blowing of love; for love has a harsh breath, and my heart is like a flute.
My heart has fallen into love, seeking to meet him, to be united with him; this seeking is so fiery, this seeking has a foot of steel.
I am speaking of fire for Tebriz’s Shems; for I wish to illuminate every part of his being.
Mevlânâ
CCLXXV
Come, come, for I have been overwhelmed by my sorrow in the company of the weeping ones; enter through the door, enter through the door; loneliness has reached my lips.
Have you come out of the house to ask about my condition? See, see, how I am in a state of madness, of insanity.
Give, give, what treasure have you brought me? Place it before me, place it before me, and sit down, take a moment’s rest.
Go, go, why do you keep leaving so quickly? Say, say, why do you come so late?
I do not weep ceaselessly for the separation; I do not visit the weeping ones unless I see your face from time to time.
Seek, seek, do not take the path of sorrow anymore; do not, do not, for our business is heading towards misfortune.
Go, go, how you sway and sway with your burdens; come, come, how beautifully you bend and bow with your honors.
dü. —— za ep – 7
— yemez —eminei
Oe
Divân-ı Kebir
CCLXXVE
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You are either the light of my life, or you are my two eyes; for you add light to our light, to the light of our sight.
You are like the sun, and my heart is like its shadow; I have fixed my two eyes on you, and I move in every direction.
Since the time I have girded my waist with the belt of service in your presence, I have had a burning sensation in my heart without tasting any sweetness.
Our sustenance, our sign, is in advance, from the mine of your grace and generosity; because of the sovereignty in your love’s lips, I have no business with tomorrow.
They have filled the vessels with water from the spring of beauty, and they have quenched the thirst of the thirsty on the path of love.
How happy are those thirsty ones, who have thus received news of the real source of that beautiful, pure water.
Now they break their vessels on the stone and throw them away, and they begin to drink your eternal life in the heavens.
O Shemseddin, the master of the masters of Tebriz, truly, if you return, a hundred wishes will be fulfilled, and a hundred of our desires will be granted.
Mevlânâ
COLXXVLH
I came to a well filled with water like a jest; suddenly, from the bottom of the well, a most exalted Yusuf appeared.
Immediately, I reached out and clung to the hem of his robe; the scent of his robe opened my eyes, and I became able to see everything.
In my astonishment, I looked into the well; what did I see? Because of his beauty, the well had become a plain.
Wherever Can Kelim goes to speak with him, even if that place is a grave, it becomes Turusina.
He said, “Stay away from the well,” and told a fable; but from now on, I will not leave the well, for there is no one as beautiful as you.
It is not surprising if he brings back to life a hundred thousand dead, or makes an old man young.
A thousand treasures are poor compared to such a mine; a thousand silvers scatter and spread before such a graceful face.
The world is a mirror full of your forms; but without a mirror, where can I see your beautiful face face to face?
Speak, speak, for the taste on your lips has taken away my mind, my thoughts, my fancy.
Divân-ı Kebir
CCLXXVII
Since you have stamped the seal of Solomon on both worlds, and since you have submitted both worlds to your rule, do not turn away; this is not the condition of love.*
The heart neither unties a knot nor accepts advice; I have become like a load of sugar, and you are inside me, in my corner, in my edge.
You are the freshness of the jasmine; you are the brilliance of the meadow and the grass; you are beauty. Are you not my very self, or do you resemble a mirror?
What light are you, striking the five senses and the six sides; what mercy are you to the earth and the homeland; you spread the table of love and make water gush from stones.
What alchemy are you, what brilliance do you give to the moon; you have entered the hearts like the heart itself, and when embraced, you adorn thousands of hearts.
I have cut myself off from all the people, because love has bound my hands; I have passed, I have sat in the land of poverty, and now, what business do I have with lamentation and wailing?
Love has burned my harvest, what life remains, what this body; even if you press me a thousand times, you will not find even a grain of barley from my existence.
(p. 187) I drank the clear wine of the bee in a pure goblet, and I became eloquent about love; you are the fire hearth, and I am pure gold,
“I have come to you,
Have the heart’s paradise ever spoken of your love garden, because even a stone in your love garden would be adorned with jewels.
This poem is not present in the Istanbul University edition.
Mevlânâ
580 The heart that falls in love cannot reconcile with this world; because love does not even leave it alone for a moment.
O Shams, the pride of Tabriz, present the remaining wine; strike the reins of Burâk, because you are a very beautiful rider.
A
Divân-ı Kebir
CCLXXIX
Even before dawn, you fell into the hand of a drunkard; he took a goblet as bright as the sun into his hand.
– With the spring of your face, this world has become a garden of roses; even the sky has bowed before the beauty of your form.
He seized me in a drunken way; if there is any excuse, I would say, I would try to find a way to escape, to get away.
He said: Do not seek order; even if your body were entirely ordered, it would not escape from my wine; do not think like that.
He gave me that wine; it was such a wine that if the sky were to take a sip, it would be laid out on the earth.
O Shams, the pride of the days, shine, illuminate the world; O soul that has fallen into this sea, you are the candle, you are the light.
This poem is also not present in the Istanbul University edition.
* After this poem, there is a heading called “Bahr-i Diger”.
Mevlânâ
ANOTHER OCEAN
CCLXXX
If you think there is another beauty like you in beauty, there is none; if you think there is peace and decision without you, there is none.
Also none.
The sky turns for a good or bad purpose; if you think the sky has any other task than to serve your soil, there is none.
Years have passed, and we are still like the people outside the door; but is it shameful to be a ring on your door? No, it is not.
We have been afraid of every dream at the gate of thought; is there a dream in your master’s mind? No, there is none.
O my heart, who has searched and known my secrets, is there any awakened person who knows the secrets of the heart, other than Salahaddin, in the temple of my Keykavus, my sultan?
—
This poem is in the meter “fâilâtün fâilâtün fâilâtün failat” and is not present among the poems in the meter “©” and the poem belongs to the letter “T”.
Divân-ı Kebir
CCLXXXI
Between the darkness of sleep and the light of wakefulness, I saw someone like that in a dark night.
He was a traveler of the blessed temple, with a beautiful face; he was completely pure, he was the light of wakefulness.
His body was as pure as the soul; it had been stripped from his garment; he was like the mind, like the soul, a pure essence, not a shadow.
He praised me a lot and said: O one who has been captured in the hell of nature,
The constellation of twins has been opened and scattered for you to indicate; why do you put your head into the mill of the world?
Although today your throne is the seat of seven heavens, you have been confined within the four walls of nature, you have been imprisoned.
Like animals, you also desire the growth of your soul from sleep, without eating or drinking; because you were not created for this, but for another kind of purpose.
Do not do evil; whatever you sow in this passing field, time will reap with its sickle.
Why do you wander and struggle in a world for your desire, thinking that you have reached ease and comfort, having passed the hardship and suffering? But it is not like that at all.
Indeed, this greed and desire of yours never fills; even if you pile up all the wealth and property of the world, it will still not fill.
Let us suppose, you have reached what you desired; but what is the benefit, if you leave it behind and go away from there?
A dear friend, youth has begun to weigh you down; you are still sleeping in a drunken state, with no awareness of wakefulness.
This gazel is in the meter of “mefailiin failâtün mefâilün failât”.
Mevlânâ
CCLXXXII
That fierce, that battle-hardened, tough Turk, that quarrelsome beauty, came for peace; he took my hand and said may God bless you.*
I asked about the crooked turns of the fate; he bit my lip and wanted to leave behind speech without head or depth.