نورسان
Rain runs down a worn mudbrick stair in old Nishapur, viewed from the top; far below, a young Khorasani woman in a modest dark-blue chador stands facing a closed cedar door, a small purse of silver corded at her wrist.

در پی دلدار باش

عطارغزل شمارهٔ ۴۱۸۳:۵۸عرفانی

Go in Search of the Beloved · Attar

ویدیودانلود

این شعر با آواز همگام است — روی هر بیت بزنید تا آهنگ از همان‌جا خوانده شود.

شعر

غزل شمارهٔ ۴۱۸

معشوق پشتِ در نیست؛ همیشه بر درِ دل ایستاده است. کارِ ما تنها گشودنِ آن در است، و بهایش خاموشی و فناست.

برای شنیدنِ هر بیت، روی آن بزنید.

  1. عاشقی اینجا کاری نیست که روزی تمام شود؛ ایستادنی است بر دری که خودِ دلِ ماست. این راه جایی نمی‌رود.Love here is not a task that one day finishes. It is standing at a door, and the door is our own heart, so the road goes nowhere at all.شرح از نورسان

  2. او هرگز نرفته بود. آن در از سمتِ ما بسته است و از همان سمت باز می‌شود؛ نبودن، نبودنِ ما بوده است.He never left. That door is shut from our side, and from our side it opens. The absence was ours.شرح از نورسان

  3. تا چشمِ جان او را آشکارا نبیند، هر تماشای دیگری جایِ او را می‌گیرد. دیوارِ بی‌نقش از هر منظره‌ای بهتر است.Until the soul's eye sees Him plainly, every other sight takes His place. A blank wall is better company than a view.شرح از نورسان

  4. عشق معمولاً مستی است؛ اما دل سرزمینی است که لشگری در آن نشسته، و نگهبانِ مست قلعه را می‌بازد. عاشق باید هشیار بماند.Love is usually a kind of drunkenness. But the heart is occupied ground, and a drunk sentry loses the fort. This lover has to stay sober.شرح از نورسان

  5. کسی نمی‌داند او کِی رخ می‌نماید، و همین است که آمادگی را نمی‌توان به فردا سپرد. نقد یعنی همین اکنون، نه وعده.Nobody is told the hour He will show His beauty, and that is exactly why readiness cannot be put off. Ready in cash, never on a promise.شرح از نورسان

  6. نفقه بخشش نیست، وظیفه است. و دلیلش ساده است: ما تنها به یکی زنده‌ایم، پس باقی هرگز از آنِ ما نبوده که نگهش داریم.This spending is an obligation, not a generosity. Only one thing keeps us alive, so the rest was never ours to hold in the first place.شرح از نورسان

  7. بقا چیزی نیست که به ما افزوده شود؛ آنی است که چون ما نمانیم، می‌ماند. و آغازش یک کلمه نگفتن است.What lasts is not something added to us. It is what remains once we do not. And it begins by not saying a word.شرح از نورسان

متنِ شعر از گنجور.

تصویرهای این اثر۸

Rain runs down a worn mudbrick stair in old Nishapur, viewed from the top; far below, a young Khorasani woman in a modest dark-blue chador stands facing a closed cedar door, a small purse of silver corded at her wrist.
Rain runs down a worn mudbrick stair in old Nishapur, viewed from the top; far below, a young Khorasani woman in a modest dark-blue chador stands facing a closed cedar door, a small purse of silver corded at her wrist.
Warm light spills from beneath that same closed cedar door at the foot of a narrow brick stairwell, running out across the wet steps; the young woman's hand has just settled on the iron latch.
Warm light spills from beneath that same closed cedar door at the foot of a narrow brick stairwell, running out across the wet steps; the young woman's hand has just settled on the iron latch.
Pale sky shows as a small bright square far up a narrow brick airshaft; at the bottom the young woman stands with her face turned to the bare brick, nothing before her to look at, her hands still.
Pale sky shows as a small bright square far up a narrow brick airshaft; at the bottom the young woman stands with her face turned to the bare brick, nothing before her to look at, her hands still.
Bright rain-cleared midday on the wet flagstones of a Nishapur caravanserai courtyard, viewed from the rooftop above: bales, laden mules, sellers, Persian shop signs, everything in motion.
Bright rain-cleared midday on the wet flagstones of a Nishapur caravanserai courtyard, viewed from the rooftop above: bales, laden mules, sellers, Persian shop signs, everything in motion.
Silver-grey sky clearing to a sudden burst of brightness through the oculus of a small tiled dome, seen from directly below; the young woman stands beneath the falling light with the silver purse closed in her palm.
Silver-grey sky clearing to a sudden burst of brightness through the oculus of a small tiled dome, seen from directly below; the young woman stands beneath the falling light with the silver purse closed in her palm.
Her hands open over the mouth of an old stone well and the silver falls, turning as it goes down into the black water, where far below a single bright disc of sky lies reflected and unmoved.
Her hands open over the mouth of an old stone well and the silver falls, turning as it goes down into the black water, where far below a single bright disc of sky lies reflected and unmoved.
Light widens around all four edges of the cedar door at the top of the wet mudbrick stair, seen from the steps below; the young woman's palm rests flat against the wood and she does not knock, her mouth closed…
Light widens around all four edges of the cedar door at the top of the wet mudbrick stair, seen from the steps below; the young woman's palm rests flat against the wood and she does not knock, her mouth closed…
The cedar door stands open at the top of the wet stair, pure radiance pouring through it and down the steps; on its threshold a young Khorasani woman and an old Nishapuri poet in plain brown wool sit together…
The cedar door stands open at the top of the wet stair, pure radiance pouring through it and down the steps; on its threshold a young Khorasani woman and an old Nishapuri poet in plain brown wool sit together…

نسخه‌های خطی۳

دیوان عطار نیشابوری (قصاید، غزلیات، ترجیعات، ترکیبات و فتوت نامه) حواشی و تعلیقات م. درویش - فریدالدین عطار نیشابوری - تصویر ۴۰۴دیوان عطار به کوشش بدیع الزمان فروزانفر - فریدالدین محمد عطار نیشابوری - تصویر ۳۹۰دیوان غزلیات و قصاید عطار به کوشش دکتر تقی تفضلی - فریدالدین محمد عطار نیشابوری - تصویر ۹۳۳

تصاویر از موزهٔ گنجور

دیگر آثارِ عطار

همه
۳:۴۲پردهٔ پندارعطار · غزل شمارهٔ ۵۲
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۳:۱۲رحمتت بیش از گناه استعطار · بخش ۳۸ - در مناجات باری تعالی
۲:۵۲این دیده چون فراز شدعطار · غزل شمارهٔ ۲۰۱
۳:۱۴هیچ بودی هیچ خواهی شدعطار · غزل شمارهٔ ۸۳۴
۳:۴۵بی سر و بی سامانعطار · غزل شمارهٔ ۲۵۶