O guard (door keeper)! Advance the nostrils (close the
door; admit no callers);
Go thou also (hence); reflect on thyself.
Separate me from the vexation of the heart (the talk of
callers);
Leave me for reflection on myself.
I have no desire for conversation with any;
Conversation with myself is enough for me:
If a purchaser (a seeker of verse) come from the far road,
That he may become fellow-sitter with the mine of jewels
(Nizámí);
May behold the treasure (the verse) of Nizámí;
May make joyousness in the feast of speech,
Say:—“The master of the house (Nizámí) is not at home;
“And if he be, he is not in need of the stranger.”
O happy-footed guard! I uttered a mistake,
For enmity to travellers is strange.
Shut not our door in anyone's face;
For the shutting of the door is improper.
“Munákhir dar pesh kardan” signifies—the bringing together the door of two folds.
The nostrils (munákhir) are likened to the two folds of a door; because the additional piece of wood (or the fixing of one plank on another), they call the nose of the door. Thus, both planks are nostrils.
In carpentry we often speak of a “nosing.”
Since speech has called us the river (of eloquence),
It is proper to open our door (continuously) like the river.
Open the house-door and sprinkle water;
In a great waste, pitch a great tent (for hospitality) like
the moon (light-giving).
Permit—that the searchers come,
(And) look at the king of speakers (Nizámí).
For to-morrow, when I bring my face within the veil (of
the shroud),
I shall hasten from (my native city) Ganja (this world) to
(the forest country of) Gílán (the next world).
Many a one who comes my purchaser
Finds no path towards the seeing of me,
Save the (word-) painting, from the reed of a painter
(Nizámí),
(Which) he views written in every book (of mine).
Behold! speech, how far from it I have fallen:
Where was the steed (of speech)? where have I urged?
The representer of adorned treasure (the tale of the
Khákán)
Gave of this wealth (history) a jewel (of speech) like this,
Saying:—When the heir (the Khákán of Chín) of the
country of Afrásíyáb (Túrán)
Raised his head like the sun from Chín,
He learned that, to that land and clime (of Chín), there
came
A dragon, a snorter like that from Rúm.
No one has seen closed the door of a river from which the creatures of God obtain bounty. Even so, our grace should flow.
Verily, he had read the letter of the king,
(And) had despaired at that work (of coming) of the
Khusrau:
With unsullied thought and true judgment,
He sought out the end of the thread of his own work.
His judgment considered it first proper so far,
That he should write a reply to the king's mandate.
He ordered—that paper, and the reed, and requisites,
The Chíní scribe should bring before him:
Should write an answer suitable to the king;
Should observe in it the basis of speech.
From the belly of the pen the hand of the skilful scribe
Cast black musk (letters) on the silk (paper);
Cherished words, heart-alluring,
By which patience remains not in the brain of man (the
striver):
An address (in humility) which should give hopefulness;
A reproach which should give help towards peace:
Fascination (words heart-entangling) which should close
the path to war;
Allurement which should give softness to stone (the tumult
of war):
Tongue-subtleties like sharp arrows;
One door towards humility, the other towards reproach.
The decoration of the beginning of the letter was—from
the first,
In that name (of God) by which names became true.
The Musk-bladder (náfa) is taken from the belly (náf) of the deer and wrapped in silk (harír).