Chehel Asrar 06 - Sixth Ghazal

Ghazal 6

11 couplets  |  Riaz 1991, printed p. 449–450

هَر آن دِل کَز غَمَش بَر وَی رَقَم نِیسْت

har ān del k-az ghamash bar vay raqam nīst

1a  Any heart that bears no trace of sorrow for the beloved

نَدِیمَش دَر دُو عَالَم جُز اَلَم نِیسْت

nadīmash dar do ʿālam joz alam nīst

1b  has no companion in either world but suffering.

Commentary on couplet 1

The heart is imagined as a surface on which sorrow for the beloved leaves an inscription. Raqam makes love recognizable by a mark, while nadīm gives suffering the unsettling intimacy of a constant companion. The paradox is that a heart untouched by the beloved’s sorrow has not thereby escaped pain; it has only lost the relationship that could give pain another meaning. ‘Either world’ extends the claim beyond immediate circumstances. The couplet thus distinguishes sorrow directed toward someone loved from suffering experienced without that attachment. Its severe formulation introduces the question pursued by the next verse: what makes an inward life capable of receiving pain as something other than deprivation?

دِلِی کَز دَرْدِ اُو دَرْمَان نَسَازَد

delī k-az dard-e ū darmān na-sāzad

2a  A heart that does not make a cure of the beloved's pain

وُجُودِ اُو بِمَعْنِی جُز عَدَم نِیسْت

vojūd-e ū be-maʿnī joz ʿadam nīst

2b  has an existence that, in truth, is nothing but nonexistence.

Commentary on couplet 2

The beloved’s pain becomes something the heart must make into a cure. The verb gives the heart a role in receiving and transforming its condition. Wujūd and ʿadam, existence and nonexistence, then sharpen the judgment: an outwardly existing life can remain empty of the inward meaning sought here. The phrase be-maʿnī places that judgment at the level of significance and reality. A relevant parallel appears in the Darwīshiyya printed under Hamadani’s name, where remembrance, love, and knowledge of God nourish the heart, and devotional care is described as medicine. [5] The poem supplies its own stronger paradox. The pain of this relationship can become the remedy for the heart’s inability to participate in it.

سَرِی کَز سِرِّ مَعْنِی بَا خَبَر شُد

sarī k-az serr-e maʿnī bā khabar shod

3a  A head that has learned the secret of meaning

دَرُو گُنْجَایِشِ شَادِی وُ غَم نِیسْت

darū gonjāyesh-e shādī o gham nīst

3b  has no room within for joy or sorrow.

Commentary on couplet 3

The sound of sar, head, approaches serr, secret, as the verse imagines a knower filled by the inward significance discovered. Gonjāyesh means room or capacity: joy and sorrow can no longer occupy that inward space in their familiar way. This complicates the opening praise of sorrow. Longing may awaken attention, while the knowledge toward which it points exceeds the usual alternation between favorable and painful conditions. The couplet describes absorption through the image of a capacity already filled. It leaves open how feeling continues within ordinary life. Its emphasis is on what governs the knower’s inward horizon, where the secret has displaced preoccupation with changing personal fortunes.

تُو مَحْرَم نِیسْتِی، مَحْرُوم اَز آنِی

to mahram nīstī, mahrūm az ānī

4a  You are no intimate, so you are deprived of it;

رَهِ نَامَحْرَمَان اَنْدَر حَرَم نِیسْت

rah-e nā-mahramān andar haram nīst

4b  outsiders have no way into the sanctuary.

Commentary on couplet 4

The rebuke turns upon closely echoing words: maḥram, an intimate, and maḥrūm, one deprived. The addressee’s lack of intimacy explains the deprivation, while nā-maḥram and ḥaram carry the argument into the image of a protected sanctuary. Access involves a relationship that cannot be acquired simply by standing nearby or repeating the language of those admitted. Unlike an invitation already fulfilled, the present address names a condition still to be changed. Its force is diagnostic: the seeker wants what belonging discloses while remaining outside that belonging. Within the ghazal, the earlier capacity to receive love’s sorrow supplies one way of understanding the inward preparation that this threshold demands.

جَهَان اَز عَکْسِ رُویَش گَشْتِه رَوْشَن

jahān az ʿaks-e rūyash gashte rowshan

5a  The world is bright with the reflection of the beloved's face;

اَگَر اَکْمَه نَبِینَد هِیچ غَم نِیسْت

agar akmah na-bīnad hīch gham nīst

5b  if one born blind cannot see it, that is no cause for concern. [1]

Commentary on couplet 5

The scale widens from an enclosed sanctuary to a world illuminated by the beloved’s reflected face. ʿAks preserves a relation between radiance and its source: what brightens the world is received beauty. An Akbarian comparison is possible, since Ibn ʿArabi describes the divine as manifest in what lovers love, as translated by Chittick. [6] The second half makes a pointed claim about perception. Akmah retains the supplied meaning, blind from birth; the failure to see does not diminish the light being described. The analogy applies physical sight to the problem of recognizing an already present disclosure. Its assertion of unconcern attaches to the radiance’s undiminished reality: access to that reality and the reality itself remain distinct.

حِجَابِ تُسْت اِین هَسْتِیِ مَوْهُوم

hejāb-e tost īn hastī-ye mowhūm

6a  This imagined existence is your veil,

کِه هَرْگِز نُور بَا ظُلْمَت بِهَم نِیسْت

ke hargez nūr bā zolmat be-ham nīst

6b  for light and darkness are never together.

Commentary on couplet 6

The obstacle is now addressed directly as ‘your veil.’ Hastī-ye mowhūm names an existence imagined or supposed, and the light–darkness comparison gives its removal a decisive character. Read metaphysically, what is imagined can be the self’s claim to possess being independently. Chittick’s account of Ibn ʿArabi distinguishes divine existence from creatures’ derivative existence. [6] This comparison concerns dependence in being as well as the seeker’s recognition of it. Within the poem, the world’s reflected brightness prepares the point: the receiver mistakes received existence for an independent possession. Light and darkness figure the incompatibility of that claim with disclosure. The verse asks for a change reaching beyond mood into the understanding of what the self is.

تُو دَر دَرْیَایِ وَحْدَت گُم نَگَشْتِی

to dar daryā-ye vahdat gom na-gashtī

7a  You have not lost yourself in the sea of unity;

اَز آنَت دُرِّ عِرْفَان دَر شِکَم نِیسْت

az ānat dorr-e ʿerfān dar shekam nīst

7b  that is why you carry no pearl of gnosis within. [2]

Commentary on couplet 7

The sea of unity gives another shape to the veil just described. The addressee has kept a separate position and therefore carries no pearl of ʿirfān, gnosis or inwardly realized knowledge. The supplied reading dorr makes the precious object clear, while ‘within’ makes its acquisition intimate. The paradox is that the seeker must lose the position from which knowledge is treated as a possession in order to receive the pearl. The verse combines an overwhelming expanse with a small inward treasure. Its imagery concerns participation in a reality exceeding the isolated self. The following return to birds and aspiration keeps this demand connected to the seeker’s orientation and effort.

چُو بَاز اَر چَشْمِ هِمَّت بَسْتِی اَز کُل

cho bāz ar chashm-e hemmat bastī az koll

8a  If, like the falcon, you close the eye of aspiration to all things,

مَقَرِّ عِزِّ تُو جُز دَسْتِ جَم نِیسْت

maqarr-e ʿezz-e to joz dast-e Jam nīst

8b  the resting place of your honor is none but Jam's hand. [3]

Commentary on couplet 8

The falcon gains a place of honor by withdrawing its gaze from everything else. Himmat, aspiration, is the heart’s directed energy here; closing its eye to scattered objects concentrates its allegiance. Jam’s hand, identified in the supplied note with the legendary Jamshīd, gives that concentration an image of royal nearness. The earlier inability to perceive light differs from this purposeful turning away: the bird’s attention is being gathered toward its proper resting place. A close Hamadani parallel occurs in the Darwīshiyya, which relates a person’s measure to aspiration and its object. [5] The couplet makes exaltation depend on disciplined attachment, with honor received through nearness rather than claimed through independent flight.

اَگَر فَانِی شَوِی دَر بَحْرِ تَوْحِید

agar fānī shavī dar bahr-e towhīd

9a  If you vanish in the sea of divine unity,

عِیَان بِینِی کِه آنْجَا کَیْف وُ کَم نِیسْت

ʿeyān bīnī ke ānjā kayf o kam nīst

9b  you will see plainly that neither quality nor quantity remains there.

Commentary on couplet 9

The conditional promise returns to the sea and makes its result explicit as seeing plainly. Tawḥīd names divine unity or the affirmation of God’s oneness; fānī shavī asks the seeker to pass away in that recognition. Kayf and kam, ‘how’ and ‘how much,’ name the qualities and measurements through which separate things are ordinarily apprehended. A comparative passage in Ibn ʿArabi’s Kitāb al-fanāʾ distinguishes the passing of transient selfhood from divine subsistence, and explicitly rejects inferring identity between the individual and God from witnessing oneness. [7] This preserves the distinction between contemplative effacement and a claim of fusion. The poem’s promise concerns a vision exceeding the categories with which the separate seeker began.

بِجُز هِمَّت نَیَابِی رَاهِ مَقْصُود

be-joz hemmat na-yābī rāh-e maqsūd

10a  Only through aspiration will you find the way to your goal;

هُمَایِ هِمَّت آنْجَا مُتَّهَم نِیسْت

homā-ye hemmat ānjā mottaham nīst

10b  the humā of aspiration meets no suspicion there. [4]

Commentary on couplet 10

The humā gives aspiration wings. Its association with sovereignty is illustrated in ʿAṭṭār’s Manṭiq al-ṭayr, where the bird claims that its shadow confers kingship. [8] More closely, the Darwīshiyya under Hamadani’s name explicitly pictures adepts’ aspiration as a humā that settles only on the summit of nearness. [5] These parallels clarify the image’s elevation and direction. The supplied mottaham, ‘suspected,’ remains uncertain in its precise force. Its negation appears to affirm aspiration’s standing there, but the line does not clearly identify whose suspicion, or what charge, is imagined. The interpretation can rest on the firm first half: aspiration opens the way to the goal. The difficult second half should retain its unresolved edge.

عَلِی، چُون هِمَّتِ عَالِی نَدَارِی

ʿAlī, chūn hemmat-e ʿālī na-dārī

11a  ʿAlī, since you have no lofty aspiration,

تُرَا گَامِی بِه کُویَش لَاجَرَم نِیسْت

to-rā gāmī be kūyash lājaram nīst

11b  you cannot, then, take a single step toward the beloved's lane.

Commentary on couplet 11

The closing address to ʿAlī draws the demand for aspiration back upon the speaker. The echo between his name and ʿālī, lofty, makes the absence of high aspiration personally pointed. After a falcon, a royal hand, and the humā, the measure of attainment suddenly becomes one step toward the beloved’s lane. The shift from elevation to this smallest movement exposes the distance between an exalted image and realized progress. In the Darwīshiyya’s account, aspiration is measured by what it seeks, giving a relevant context to the rebuke. [5] The ending leaves the speaker accountable to the standard he has expressed. Knowledge of the way has not yet become the resolve to walk it.

Reading notes

[1] 5b: اکمه is the learned term akmah, a person blind from birth.

[2] 7b: As in ghazal 5, the maddah is regularized in printed انت; در is read dorr, “pearl.”

[3] 8b: Jam is the legendary king Jamshīd; the falcon resting on the king's hand images the seeker's exaltation.

[4] 10b: متهم is retained as mottaham, “suspected”; its precise force in this image is uncertain.

Understanding this ghazal

This ghazal asks how the heart becomes capable of a reality it cannot possess on its own terms. It begins with an inscription: sorrow for the beloved marks the heart and gives suffering an intimate direction. The next couplet calls a life without this inward transformation ‘nonexistence,’ yet later verses ask the seeker to vanish in unity. That tension matters. The poem distinguishes an unawakened inward life from the surrender through which a fuller recognition becomes possible; its different negations acquire their meanings from the conditions they describe.

Sanctuary, reflected light, veil, and sea approach this problem from different sides. The seeker remains outside an intimacy, fails to recognize an illumination, or holds to a separate position before an overwhelming expanse. The world itself is presented as bright with reflected beauty, so the poem’s imagined existence need not make creation a meaningless fiction. A comparative Akbarian reading distinguishes dependent manifestation from the claim to possess being independently. [6] Ibn ʿArabi’s account of witnessing unity also preserves a distinction from asserting identity with God. [7] These comparisons clarify possible metaphysical bearings while the ghazal remains a series of urgent poetic addresses.

Aspiration becomes increasingly explicit as the response required. The falcon gathers its gaze, the humā directs its flight, and the seeker must take a step. The Darwīshiyya printed under Hamadani’s name provides close parallels: its account of the heart’s nourishment joins remembrance, love, and knowledge; its discussion of himmat measures aspiration by its object; and it gives that aspiration the very image of a humā settling at the summit of nearness. [5] This conjunction helps explain how resolve and self-effacement can belong together. Energy is gathered toward what exceeds the self, while the claim to independent possession is relinquished.

The last address to ʿAlī prevents these large images from becoming a declaration of success. The speaker who has described royal honor and an unmeasured sea must answer for a single step still untaken. The uncertain wording about suspicion in couplet 10 remains unresolved; the close makes the practical demand clearer without pretending to solve it. The poem’s final measure of lofty aspiration is therefore precise and searching: whether it brings the heart nearer to the beloved whose sorrow gives its seeking a direction.

Sources and textual notes

Reading notes [1]–[4] reproduce the supplied notes, including the uncertainty concerning mottaham in couplet 10. References [5]–[8] support the new commentary. The Persian readings, translations, transliterations, and closing name ʿAlī remain unchanged. The prose and literary parallels provide context; the Akbarian comparisons are not presented as an earlier commentary on this poem.

5. Darwīshiyya, printed under Hamadani’s name in Muhammad Riaz, Aḥvāl o āsār o ashʿār-e Mīr Sayyid ʿAlī Hamadānī, second edition, Islamabad, 1991. Printed p. 490 treats remembrance, love, and knowledge of God as the heart’s nourishment and describes spiritual remedies. Printed p. 497 relates a person’s measure to aspiration and distinguishes aspirations by their objects. Printed p. 498 explicitly figures spiritual aspiration as a humā settling only on the Qāf of nearness. These passages were checked against the scanned pages. Riaz’s introduction, printed p. 486, defends Hamadani’s authorship against a competing attribution to Sayyid Muhammad Nurbakhsh; the commentary retains this qualification. Digitized Riaz edition.
6. William C. Chittick, The Religion of Love Revisited, Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi Society, 54 (2013). Used for Chittick’s account of derivative existence and his translated Futūḥāt passage on divine manifestation in what is loved. These are explicitly comparative applications.
7. Ibn ʿArabi, Kitāb al-fanāʾ fī l-mushāhada, translated by Layla Shamash and Stephen Hirtenstein, Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi Society, IX (1991). Its opening discussion distinguishes transient selfhood and subsistence, while rejecting an inference of identity from witnessing oneness.
8. ʿAṭṭār, Manṭiq al-ṭayr, the humā’s story, Persian verse text hosted by Ganjoor. The bird claims a shadow that confers kingship and praises its own high aspiration; the hoopoe subsequently rebukes its pride. This supplies a literary example of the bird’s royal associations, without transferring the episode’s entire argument to couplet 10 or resolving its uncertain reading.

The manuscript order differs from the printed sequence at couplets 8 and 9. The page runs 1–7, then اگر فانی شوی در بحر توحید (printed 9), then چو باز ار چشم همت بستی از کل (printed 8), then 10 and 11, with the final couplet's two hemistiches on separate rows. All eleven couplets are present. Given that Ghazal 25 also reorders its middle couplets, the divergence may be systematic across this codex rather than a single slip: