Chehel Asrar 32 - Thirty Second Ghazal

Ghazal 32

11 couplets  |  Riaz 1991, printed p. 471–472

خُوشا سَری کِه بُوَد ذَوْقِ سَیْرها دیدِه

khoshā sarī ke bovad zowq-e sayr-hā dīde

1a  Blessed is the mind that has tasted the delight of spiritual journeys,

بِچَشْمِ دِل رُخِ اَسْرارِ آن سَرا دیدِه

be-chashm-e del rokh-e asrār-e ān sarā dīde

1b  and seen, with the heart's eye, the unveiled mysteries of that other dwelling;

Commentary on couplet 1

The opening blesses a mind acquainted with inward journeys and a heart capable of seeing mysteries. Sar is literally the head; the supplied “mind” brings its capacity for understanding forward. Taste and sight work together: the journey has been savored, and the mysteries have acquired a face before the heart’s eye. “That other dwelling” points beyond the familiar without specifying a particular celestial station. The grammatical frame matters for everything that follows. “Blessed is” introduces a fortunate person whose experiences accumulate through the subsequent couplets. This is a portrait being praised, and the speaker has not yet identified himself with it. The closing will make the distance between celebrating such perception and possessing it decisive.

زِ رَوْزَنِ دِلِ خُود گوش کَرْدِه رازِ اَزَل

ze rowzan-e del-e khod gūsh karde rāz-e azal

2a  that has listened to eternity's secret through the window of its own heart,

وَزان دَریچِه یَقین سِرِّ ماجَرا دیدِه

v-az-ān darīche yaqīn serr-e mājarā dīde

2b  and through that opening has surely seen the mystery of all that unfolds;

Commentary on couplet 2

The heart becomes a window through which the fortunate person both listens and sees. Hearing a secret through an opening used for sight joins two senses in one account of inward receptivity. Azal means beginningless eternity; the secret concerns that horizon without making the listener himself beginningless. Yaqīn strengthens the assurance of what is perceived, while mājarā gathers the unfolding of affairs into a mystery. In his exposition of prayer, Hamadani likewise pictures disclosure through an inward opening, immediately joining vision to the contingent creature’s need and devotion. [3] This is a documented parallel to the image of receptivity, rather than evidence that he explained this particular secret or claimed exhaustive knowledge of events.

بَر آسْتانِ وَفا هَر دَمی زِ دُشْمَن وُ دوسْت

bar āstān-e vafā har damī ze doshman o dūst

3a  that at the threshold of fidelity, at every moment, from friend and foe,

هِزار مِحْنَت وُ ناکامی وُ جَفا دیدِه

hezār mehnat o nākāmī o jafā dīde

3b  has suffered a thousand hardships, disappointments, and cruelties;

Commentary on couplet 3

The portrait turns from hidden knowledge to what fidelity has cost. The first half-line places the blessed person at a threshold and names the sources of affliction; only the second releases the full weight of hardship, frustration, and cruelty. Friend and foe appear together, removing the expectation that pain will come only from declared opponents. The threshold suggests sustained attendance, while har damī, every moment, and “a thousand” make the testing recurrent and abundant. Such experience complicates the opening blessing: inward sight has not insulated this person from hurt. The verse praises fidelity in someone who has suffered, leaving the following couplet to show how that suffering is understood and answered.

زِ هَر جَفا کِه کَشیدِه بِروزْگارِ دَراز

ze har jafā ke kashīde be-rūzgār-e derāz

4a  that in every cruelty endured through long years,

بَرایِ دوسْت دَر آن شیوِهٔ وَفا دیدِه

barā-ye dūst dar ān shīve-ye vafā dīde

4b  has seen, for the Friend's sake, a way to remain faithful;

Commentary on couplet 4

Each cruelty endured over long years becomes an occasion in which the lover discovers a way of remaining faithful for the Friend’s sake. The second half changes the direction of attention from what has been received to how one responds. Barā-ye dūst, for the Friend, is crucial: it locates the purpose of fidelity without necessarily making the Friend the agent of every injury. Nor does the verse simply rename cruelty as kindness. Its contrast between jafā and vafā, injury and fidelity, preserves their difference while binding them through sound. The praise concerns the lover’s sustained orientation under pressure; it does not make another person’s harmful conduct an ethical model or an obligation to endure.

بِهَر وَفا کِه نُمودِه بِزیرِ تیغِ جَفا

be-har vafā ke nomūde be-zīr-e tīgh-e jafā

5a  that for each act of fidelity beneath cruelty's blade,

زِ رُویِ دوسْت دو صَد خِلْعَتِ صَفا دیدِه

ze rū-ye dūst do sad khelʿat-e safā dīde

5b  has received from the Friend's face two hundred robes of purity;

Commentary on couplet 5

The blade of cruelty is answered by robes of purity bestowed from the Friend’s face. A khelʿat is a robe of honor, so the image gives inward clarification the dignity of being received and clothed by a generous patron. Safā suggests purity and clarity, extending the poem’s concern with the capacity to perceive. “Two hundred” enlarges the gift beyond the single act of fidelity; the numbers belong to praise’s abundance rather than a calculation of spiritual wages. The two halves hold wounding and investiture together. Where the blade threatens to strip the lover of security, the Friend’s regard supplies another kind of clothing, one whose value lies in the relationship it makes visible.

مِیانِ آتَشِ شَبْهایِ هِجْر تا دَمِ صُبْح

miyān-e ātash-e shab-hā-ye hejr tā dam-e sobh

6a  that amid the fire of nights of separation, until dawn,

هِزار رَوْحِ صَفا اَز دَمِ صَبا دیدِه

hezār rowh-e safā az dam-e sabā dīde

6b  has found a thousand pure comforts in the morning breeze's breath; [1]

Commentary on couplet 6

The person praised finds refreshment within burning nights of separation. The repeated dam connects the moment of dawn with the morning breeze’s breath, bringing relief close to the body’s own breathing. As the supplied note specifies, rowh means comfort or refreshment here. The fire remains the setting in which these comforts are received, so the couplet need not announce that separation has ended. Hamadani’s prose also joins a fragrant breeze of grace with illuminated perception and inward consolation, although its cooling imagery addresses passions. [3] In this verse, the breeze relieves longing’s heat. Its gentle arrival contrasts with the blade and robes of the preceding couplet, giving the Friend’s generosity a less ceremonial, more intimate form.

مِیانِ ظُلْمَتِ اِمْکان وُ آتَشِ دوری

miyān-e zolmat-e emkān o ātash-e dūrī

7a  that amid the darkness of contingent being and the fire of distance,

نَسیمِ صُبْحِ وِصال اَز رَهِ فَنا دیدِه

nasīm-e sobh-e vesāl az rah-e fanā dīde

7b  has met the dawn breeze of union on the path of self-effacement;

Commentary on couplet 7

The night’s darkness now receives a metaphysical name: imkān, contingency, the condition of what does not exist necessarily through itself. Alongside it, the fire of distance preserves the lover’s immediate distress. Through fanā, self-effacement, the person encounters the dawn breeze of union. The darkness gives dependence an image of obscurity; it need not turn creation into something inherently evil. Hamadani describes lovers absorbed in divine love while explicitly keeping their existence contingent. [3] That distinction helps separate a transformed experience of nearness from becoming independently existent. The poem’s breeze makes union perceptible as refreshment and arrival, while its movement through effacement asks what must loosen in the seeker for that change to be received.

چُو اَز رُسومِ مَجازی فَنا شُدِه کُلّی

cho az rosūm-e majāzī fanā shode kollī

8a  that, wholly effaced from the conventions of this figurative world,

دَرونِ زَهْرِ فَنا شَرْبَتِ بَقا دیدِه

darūn-e zahr-e fanā sharbat-e baqā dīde

8b  has found the sweet drink of abiding life within annihilation's poison;

Commentary on couplet 8

Annihilation appears as poison containing a sweet drink: abiding life is discovered within what seemed to threaten the self. Baqā means abiding or enduring life here. The word darūn, within, matters because the image locates the gift inside the feared loss, rather than simply after it. Rosūm-e majāzī names the conventions or traces of a figurative order; their effacement need not mean the physical destruction of the world. Al-Qushayrī explains fanā and baqā through the disappearance of blameworthy qualities and persistence of praiseworthy ones, and distinguishes loss of self-awareness from the continuing existence of the person. [4] This context clarifies possible kinds of transformation while leaving the poem’s unsettling taste of poison and sweetness intact.

زِ جامِ شَوْق شُدِه مَسْت وُ شیشِه بِشْکَسْتِه

ze jām-e showq shode mast o shīshe beshkaste

9a  that has grown drunk from longing's cup and shattered the flask,

مِیانِ عَرْبَدِه مَحْبوبِ خُوش‌لِقا دیدِه

miyān-e ʿarbade mahbūb-e khosh-leqā dīde

9b  and amid the drunken uproar has seen the lovely-faced beloved;

Commentary on couplet 9

Longing fills the cup, intoxication breaks ordinary composure, and the flask shatters before the lovely-faced beloved appears amid the uproar. The image gives desire a force that its container can no longer hold. ʿArbade is noisy, unruly drunken behavior; its disruption belongs to the poem’s depiction of ecstasy. Al-Qushayrī connects spiritual intoxication with disclosure of divine beauty, while distinguishing it from absence caused by longing and other emotions. [4] The poem places longing’s cup before the sight of the beloved, so its movement should retain its own shape. This vision still belongs to the blessed person’s portrait. It will sharpen the closing question about an intoxication that has occurred without such sight.

زِ نَنْگِ خُود شُدِه یِکْسوی دَر حَریمِ شُهود

ze nang-e khod shode yaksūy dar harīm-e shohūd

10a  that has stepped aside from the shame of selfhood and, in the sanctuary of witnessing,

جَمالِ آن مَهِ بی‌چُون وُ بی‌چِرا دیدِه

jamāl-e ān mah-e bī-chūn o bī-cherā dīde

10b  has seen the beauty of that moon beyond all how and why.

Commentary on couplet 10

The blessed person steps aside from the self’s shame and enters the sanctuary of witnessing, where beauty appears as a moon beyond how and why. The supplied “selfhood” interprets khod, self; the movement withdraws attention from the self’s encumbering presence so that another beauty can occupy it. Shohūd means witnessing, an immediate beholding rather than merely hearing a report. Harīm makes that beholding an intimate, protected encounter. Yet the moon’s visible loveliness is joined to language resisting ordinary specification. The verse allows perception without implying that its object has been fully enclosed in an explanation. This is the portrait’s fullest statement of seeing, immediately before the closing denies sight to the named addressee.

عَلایی، اَز چِه شُدی مَسْت چُون نَخُورْدی مَی؟

ʿAlāʾī, az che shodī mast chūn nakhordī may?

11a  ʿAlāʾī, how did you become drunk when you drank no wine?

زِ دیدِه مَسْت شَوَد هَر کَسی، تُو نادیدِه

ze dīde mast shavad har kasī, to nādīde

11b  Others grow drunk from seeing; you, without having seen. [2]

Commentary on couplet 11

The closing abruptly addresses ʿAlāʾī: how has intoxication arisen without wine, and without the sight that intoxicates others? Nādīde, without having seen, reverses the dīde repeated throughout the portrait. The turn prevents the preceding visions from being read automatically as the named figure’s accomplishments. Its tone can sustain both astonishment and self-questioning. Longing may overwhelm before sight, but the question may also expose an ecstasy whose claim to experience remains uncertain. The poem does not settle between these possibilities or place unseen intoxication above witnessing. Its final contrast leaves the named figure close enough to praise vision vividly, yet unable simply to claim it. The signature becomes the point at which the ideal portrait meets an unresolved personal condition.

Understanding this ghazal

The ghazal begins by blessing a person who has journeyed, perceived, suffered, and remained faithful. For ten couplets, its repeated dīde accumulates experiences around that opening figure. What has been “seen” includes both inward mysteries and the trials of a life: the same pattern of speech can hold revelation, injury, consolation, and beauty. The final address to ʿAlāʾī then introduces a different condition, intoxication without sight. The poem’s central question becomes who can speak of vision, and how the power of longing relates to the experience it celebrates.

Its images make spiritual perception tangible through several senses. Mysteries have a face; the heart’s window admits both hearing and sight; cruelty carries a blade; purity becomes a robe. Fire and darkness give way to a breeze whose refreshment prepares the language of union. The poison and sweet drink then bring transformation within a single taste, before longing’s cup releases the disruptive scene of intoxication. These images resonate across the ghazal without requiring a fixed sequence of attained stations. Throughout the changing scenes, fidelity sustains the person’s orientation toward the Friend, even when other relationships bring injury.

Hamadani’s prose offers specific parallels: inward disclosure pictured through an opening, grace figured as a fragrant breeze, and lovers’ transformed condition held together with their continuing contingency. [3] Al-Qushayrī’s treatment of fanā and baqā further distinguishes changes of character and awareness from the cessation of created existence. [4] These contexts help explain how self-effacement can disclose an abiding life. They do not turn suffering into a purchase price for gifts, or cruelty into conduct to imitate. The faithful response, the received consolation, and the continuing dependence of the recipient remain distinct.

The last couplet reopens what the sanctuary of witnessing seemed to complete. It need not cancel the praised portrait, but it changes the reader’s relation to the voice describing it. ʿAlāʾī may be marveling at longing powerful enough to intoxicate before encounter; he may be questioning a state unsupported by the vision just praised. The text allows the uncertainty to stand. Its repeated language of having seen ends in not having seen, making incompletion part of its final honesty. The poem can give vision an intensely felt presence while leaving the one who longs for it still at a distance.

Sources and textual notes

Reading notes

[1] 6b: Rawḥ, pronounced rowh in Persian, is read as refreshment or comfort, not rūḥ, spirit.

[2] 11b: The compressed closing contrast is between intoxication through seeing and intoxication without sight.

Editorial references

3. Hamadani, Dhakhīrat al-mulūk, consulted in Mohammad Umar Farooq, Mir Sayyid Ali Hamadani’s Dhakiratul Muluk: An Annotation and Translation (PhD thesis, University of Kashmir, 2009), printed p. 94, on inward disclosure within an exposition of prayer; printed p. 338, on lovers’ absorption and continuing contingency; and printed p. 413, on fragrant grace, perception, and consolation. The English translation was checked; the Persian wording was not independently collated.
4. Al-Qushayrī, al-Risāla al-Qushayriyya, translated by Alexander D. Knysh as Al-Qushayri’s Epistle on Sufism (Garnet, 2007), printed pp. 89–90, on fanā and baqā as transformations of qualities and awareness while creatures continue to exist; and printed p. 93, distinguishing absence through longing and other emotions from intoxication through disclosed beauty. Used as classical Sufi context, without imposing its classification upon the poem’s closing paradox.

Editorial note: The supplied Riaz 1991, printed p. 471–472 reference, the signature ʿAlāʾī, and both reading notes are retained unchanged. That edition and the attribution of this ghazal have not been independently verified. The commentary distinguishes the blessed figure described in couplets 1–10 from the closing address and leaves the meaning of intoxication without sight open.

The right margin carries a clearer دشمن و beside the line of couplet 3, بر آستان وفا هر دمی ز دشمن و دوست. to clarify confusion with the written text.