You arrived late, O intoxicated beloved, Ghazal 41 by Saadi

By hamed @hamed | poet: Saadi Shirazi | 11 0

No lines yet


Description:

This ghazal captures Saadi's profound surrender to love and beauty. The poet addresses a beloved who arrives late but holds such charm that their presence overwhelms any grievance. Saadi illustrates the inescapable pull of love, comparing it to a fish trapped in a net. He reflects on how the allure of beauty has led even the devout astray. The beloved’s beauty and grace are likened to a tall cypress, unmatched by anything in nature. Saadi laments his helplessness, expressing both the pain and inevitability of devotion, and concludes with a rhetorical question that underlines the exclusivity of his dedication.


English Translation for Ghazal

You arrived late, O intoxicated beloved,
Yet we won’t release your hem so hurried.

The fire of your love could not be doused,
No matter how much wisdom we espoused.

One cannot turn away from your decree,
Nor close the door to your beauty’s plea.

I cannot find escape from your presence,
Like a fish caught tight in a snare’s essence.

Desire for the sweet-lipped ones has undone,
The pious vows of many a devout one.

O tall cypress of this fragrant garden,
Beside your stature, all trees are hardened.

Wretched is the one who parts from you,
Blessed is the soul who remains true.

Your playful glance spilled my blood so pure,
Why should a drunken slayer care to demur?

Saadi cannot escape the snare of the fair,
As long as his soul remains ensnared there.

If you don’t bow at their threshold’s crest,
What door remains for you to seek the rest?

متن غزل

دیر آمدی ای نگار سرمست

زودت ندهیم دامن از دست

 

بر آتش عشقت آب تدبیر

چندان که زدیم باز ننشست

 

از رای تو سر نمی‌توان تافت

وز روی تو در نمی‌توان بست

 

از پیش تو راه رفتنم نیست

چون ماهی اوفتاده در شست

 

سودای لب شکردهانان

بس توبهٔ صالحان که بشکست

 

ای سرو بلند بوستانی

در پیش درخت قامتت پست

 

بیچاره کسی که از تو ببرید

آسوده تنی که با تو پیوست

 

چشمت به کرشمه خون من ریخت

وز قتل خطا چه غم خورد مست

 

سعدی ز کمند خوبرویان

تا جان داری نمی‌توان جست

 

ور سر ننهی در آستانش

دیگر چه کنی دری دگر هست؟