نورسانشعر و موسیقیِ پارسی
غزل شمارهٔ ۲۷۹۸

در دو چشم من نشین

۳:۵۰مولاناMore Me Than I Am · Rumi

شعر

فارسی برای او واژه ندارد؛ مولانا ناچار می‌سازد: از ماه روشن‌تر، از باغ گلشن‌تر، از خودِ من، من‌تر.

برای شنیدنِ هر بیت، روی آن بزنید.
  1. از او نمی‌خواهیم دیده شود، بلکه در چشم بنشیند و خودِ دیدنِ ما شود. زبان برای چنین کسی واژه ندارد؛ «من‌تر» را قافیه ساخت.

    He is not asked to be seen. He is asked to sit inside the eye and become the seeing itself. Persian has no word for such a one, so the rhyme made one.

    شرح از نورسان

  2. ناموس یعنی آبرو و خویشتن‌داری، و عاشق باید آن را بشکند. اینجا باغ نیز به همان رسوایی خوانده می‌شود که از عاشق می‌خواهند.

    Nāmus is the good name a thing protects. Love asks the lover to break it, and here the garden is called into the same undoing.

    شرح از نورسان

  3. سوسن را ده‌زبان خوانده‌اند: نمادِ سخن. در برابرِ او گویاترین، زبان درمی‌کشد. سخن گفتن خود روزنی را می‌بندد که خاموشی باز می‌کند.

    The lily is called ten-tongued, the emblem of eloquence. Before him the most articulate thing draws its tongue back in. Speech shuts a window that silence opens.

    شرح از نورسان

  4. موم و آهن، دو حالِ یک کس‌اند. سختیِ او را دوری نخوانیم؛ همان کس است که موم بود.

    Wax and iron are two states of one being. His hardness is not distance from us: it is the same one who a moment ago was wax.

    شرح از نورسان

  5. توسن اسبی است که هنوز به زین تن نداده. نازِ او سرکش‌ترین را چون زمین نرم می‌کند؛ و رام‌شدن، باخت نیست.

    A tousan is a horse that has never taken the saddle. The Beloved's disdain gentles even that one into earth, and being gentled is not a defeat.

    شرح از نورسان

  6. در روایتِ مولانا، حمزه زره را در پیری انداخت، نه از دلیری: نوری ترسِ مرگ را از او برده بود. آن که می‌بیند، جوشن نمی‌خواهد.

    In Rumi's own telling, Hamza threw off his mail as an old man, and not out of courage: a light had taken the fear of death from him. One who sees has no use for armour.

    شرح از نورسان

  7. خانهٔ بی‌روزن دوزخ است، اما این روزن از بی‌نیازی بسته می‌شود: روزن‌ها یک نور را تکه‌تکه می‌کنند. بستنشان تاریکی نیست، پایانِ پراکندگی است.

    A house with no window is hell. This one is shut from sufficiency, not deprivation: windows break a single light into many, and closing them ends the scattering.

    شرح از نورسان

متنِ شعر از گنجور.

شناسنامهٔ شعر

قالب
غزل
وزن
فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلن (رمل مثمن محذوف)
قافیه
نتری
دفتر
غزلیات
ابیات
۷

دیگر روایت‌ها۳

همین شعر، با همین ساز و آواز، چند بار خوانده شده. روایتِ اصلی آن است که در ویدیو می‌شنوید.

  • خوانش اصلی۳:۵۰
  • خوانش دیگر۴:۰۱
  • خوانش دیگر ۲۳:۵۵
  • خوانش دیگر ۳۳:۵۳

ویدیو

نسخه‌های خطی۲

کلیات شمس یا دیوان کبیر با تصحیحات و حواشی بدیع‌الزمان فروزانفر » تصویر 1617کلیات شمس تبریزی انتشارات امیرکبیر، تهران، ۱۳۷۶ » تصویر 1027

تصاویر از موزهٔ گنجور

تصویرها۸

Cold dawn blue enters a lime-plaster stairwell from a roof opening far above and lands only in the eyes of a Kashan householder in his mid-forties, close-trimmed dark beard threaded with silver, sage-green collarless…
Cold dawn blue enters a lime-plaster stairwell from a roof opening far above and lands only in the eyes of a Kashan householder in his mid-forties, close-trimmed dark beard threaded with silver, sage-green collarless…
The setting moon sits inside the round roof opening of a domed Kashan ice-house, silver and small; a second radiance, whiter and far stronger, rises into the same circle from below the rim, so the moon reads as the di…
The setting moon sits inside the round roof opening of a domed Kashan ice-house, silver and small; a second radiance, whiter and far stronger, rises into the same circle from below the rim, so the moon reads as the di…
Morning sun enters through a thrown-open double gate of a Kashan rose garden at picking time, one clean shaft crossing the dusty-pink rows so brightly that the roses inside it lose their colour to it; the householder…
Morning sun enters through a thrown-open double gate of a Kashan rose garden at picking time, one clean shaft crossing the dusty-pink rows so brightly that the roses inside it lose their colour to it; the householder…
White lilies stand fresh and tall in a sage-green bed, every bloom furled tight shut, not one of them open; the householder kneels among them with his lips parted and no sound coming, and behind him a tall cypress lea…
White lilies stand fresh and tall in a sage-green bed, every bloom furled tight shut, not one of them open; the householder kneels among them with his lips parted and no sound coming, and behind him a tall cypress lea…
Candle wax runs warm down a hammered iron stand and hardens over the black metal, clothing it, so the same object is soft and unyielding at once; the householder's waxed hand rests against the iron just below the flame.
Candle wax runs warm down a hammered iron stand and hardens over the black metal, clothing it, so the same object is soft and unyielding at once; the householder's waxed hand rests against the iron just below the flame.
Rain-rinsed rose-earth of a Kashan field takes the print of two open palms; green shoots are already pushing up through the softened ground where the householder kneels, and far across the rows a loose unbroken horse…
Rain-rinsed rose-earth of a Kashan field takes the print of two open palms; green shoots are already pushing up through the softened ground where the householder kneels, and far across the rows a loose unbroken horse…
He flings the ring-mail shirt back off his shoulders mid-stride under a white-hot noon sun; the rings fan open above him and the light drives straight through the mesh so it reads as a net of light rather than metal,…
He flings the ring-mail shirt back off his shoulders mid-stride under a white-hot noon sun; the rings fan open above him and the light drives straight through the mesh so it reads as a net of light rather than metal,…
Clear white radiance fills a small Kashan room whose only roof-window is latched shut, the light plainly not coming from it; the householder sits beneath, hands open on his knees, his face lit from in front of him by…
Clear white radiance fills a small Kashan room whose only roof-window is latched shut, the light plainly not coming from it; the householder sits beneath, hands open on his knees, his face lit from in front of him by…

دیگر آثار مولانا