Khaqani

Do you know what I benefitted from this world? Nothing
And what I gained from the days of life? Nothing
I am a candle of wisdom; but when extinguished, nothing
I am the cup of Jamshid; but when broken nothing.

To me the heart is a sheikh who teaches me,
And I am the child who understands his language.
When I bow my head I pay him my fee,
When I put my head on my knees I attend his school.

Afzaladdin Khaqani commonly known as Khāqānī (1120— 1190) was a major Persian poet and prose-writer. He was born in Transcaucasia in the historical region known as Shirvan, where he served as an ode-writer to the Shirvanshahs. His fame most securely rests upon the qasidas collected in his Divān, and his autobiographical travelogue Tohfat al-ʿErāqayn. He is also notable for his exploration of the genre that later became known as habsiyāt ("prison poetry").

Quotes

• The bird that sings the song of pain is love
  The courier who knows the tongue of the Unseen is love
  The existence that call you to nonexistence is love
  And that which redeems you from you is love
  • Translation by R. Saberi
• Do you know what I benefitted from this world? Nothing
  And what I gained from the days of life? Nothing
  I am a candle of wisdom; but when extinguished, nothing
  I am the cup of Jamshid; but when broken nothing
  • Translation by R. Saberi

Poem

Mir'āt aș-șafā

• To me the heart is a sheikh who teaches me,
  And I am the child who understands his language.
  When I bow my head I pay him my fee,
  When I put my head on my knees I attend his school.
  Not on every knee his school can be found;
  Not all moments are tablets to receive his words.
  Not every sea hides shells,
  Not every drop is an April shower.
  Kneeling down is only a school,
  Like Noah's Ark, to him
  Whose sorrow is a frothing Flood,
  To whom Ararat is a heaven.
  However, to him who, once,
  Enters this school be kneeling down,
  The Ararat will not be higher than his ankle-bone,
  The Flood will not reach his shank.
  No one qualifies for this school
  Unless he has a sorrow so great that,
  With each breath he inhales, four Floods
  Invade the four elements of his body.
  The school of kneeling down is meant
  Especially for those men who, being lions,
  Like a dog shy away behind a knee
  From all the agitation among men.
  • Persian Sufi Poetry, p. 46

See also

• Nizami Ganjavi
• Ahli Shirazi
• Sanai

External links

• J. T. P. De Bruijn: Persian Sufi Poetry, Curzon Press, Surrey, United Kingdom, 1997