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HAFIZ'S FRIEND: JAHAN MALEK KHATUN FOREWORD I am a 26 year-old Iranian woman born in Tehran. I completed my Master of Governmental Administration Course from Tehran University. After being married, I migrated to Australia. I had always loved and read the poems of our great Master Poets, Hafiz, Sadi, Nizami, Firdousi and Rumi. I had always wondered why there were no great woman poets amongst them as there is today with our poets? After I came to Australia I was often filled with a deep nostalgia for my homeland and my friends and my family. I was approached by a friend to do some literal translations for Paul Smith... who was a poet and scholar working on a long novel/biography of our greatest poet, Hafiz of Shiraz. He had already done Hafiz's Divan so I became interested. The work was to do as literal as possible, using my Persian-English Dictionary, the poems of many of the famous and not so famous poets who were alive at the time in Shiraz when Hafiz lived there. And so, I worked on the poems of the famous (in our country)... Khaju Kermani, Imad Kermani, Obeyd Zakani... and the not so famous, Bushaq (the poet of foods), Ruh Attar, Haydar, and so on. Then one day he sent to me the Divan (collection of poems) of a certain princess of Shiraz whom Hafiz was the mentor of, and the lifelong friend of... Jahan Malek Khatun. Khatun means ‘princess’ in our language. Her Divan is almost three times the size of Hafiz’s! It was a revelation to me! Here was a female poet to equal the great ones... but, she is still unknown in Iran! At first I thought how difficult this work would be, but when I finally delved into her incredible Divan and began to read it I realized how much I loved her poems and then it became not only my hobby but my pleasure to translate them, even though my English was not as good as it should be... but Paul Smith helped me. I was really shocked that I had never heard of her and that in Iran nobody knew or talked of her and I was ashamed that such a great poet had to be brought to my attention from a non-Iranian whom I thought perhaps he had lived in Iran for many years, but he has never visited our country. You will discover from her own preface to her sublime poems, back then it was not easy for a woman to be a poet... although she makes a pretty good case for this to be so, and of course even today it is still difficult, even though for the same reasons that she mentions this should not still be so. Anyway, what is important is that Jahan Malek Khatun was really a great poet. Her Divan is full of beautiful ghazals, ruba'is, kasidis, and especially her elegies to her innocent daughter who died, tragically, when she was so young. I hope you enjoy them as much as I continue to do. She is one of Iran's greatest poets and dare I say... one of the world’s great poets. Rezvaneh Pashai
Sorrows of the world, Jahan, are upon my heart even more: mind is more wounded by fortune’s sword than ever before. Even though the sword of fortune has wounded my heart... there are more wounds in my heart where its secret it bore! Why should I give any more respect to rival, assuring her? Why should I? She’s so suspicious ... each time even more! If the wolf whose fortune had no success fell into a trap ... most poor men would take the ewe ... quickly out the door. Each one in this world who has lost her life for the beloved I will judge fairly... she’s one step ahead of me ... one more! Even though inside your heart affection for me is now less, heart’s desire to reach you is more than before I can assure! When in our cruel beloved’s heart faith is not being kept ... it is strange that closer to us ... is what was foreign before.
In my mind ... I am always thinking about you because I cannot come to see you, that is true. I keep on thinking of those eyes that are yours for those marvellous eyes lead straight to you! I’m madly impatient to see your beautiful face: like a baby needs milk I need you ... I do ... I do! In the garden there’s many a handsome cypress: in fairness you’re better ... I’m being fair to you. It’s true that to die for you is always my desire: but for you it’s not important ... isn’t that true? When I am seeing you I believe I’m in paradise: all will be fine for me when I’m finally with you. In the morning from Egypt a breeze came to me: so anxiously I asked it if a prophet was now due. I lost my youth and beauty because of this love: I am old from this world... heart was broken too. Jahan, in the world ... while you continue to live, that you’ll still be in love with that one... is true!
Loving you, has broken my heart wide apart... to explain this any more is not within my art. I’m always being teased by those opposing me: I suffer more than usual and grief plays its part. My family criticizes me, opponents even more: but they, not my family, feel sorry for my heart! This broken heart of mine leaves that one alone: don’t imagine he is faithful, for cruelty is his art. In Jahan is no work, except burning in this love: everyone in the world must play a grieving part. I’m sure it would be better if I’d be like a drifter ... the world’s King,* Jahan, guards a drifter’s heart.
* Note: The world’s King is God the Almighty.
Ah my beloved, what... is wrong with you? O why do you always treat me like you do? You are always in a terrible mood with me: you are always looking at me in anger too! I burn in this love with no one beside me ... my only friend’s the dirt, others are untrue! It’s true that you do not have a single friend but good at breaking a lover’s heart are you. I can’t let friends be, even if they are unkind: in my heart this love, will be in eternity too! If a one leaves his beloved one out of cruelty, that’s not a good and is not fair thing to do. Jahan has loved that one for such a long time: that I love his handsome face is true ... is true!
My heart through separation sick was becoming: my ill heart for you can’t continue to be waiting. You don’t know, but being apart from your love ... my suffering defies description, tears keep falling. O my dear sweetheart ... when you are leaving me and I’m alone ... all happiness from me is leaving. I can’t wait any longer to see your handsome face: I’m so excited to see your face I can’t keep waiting. Please be kind to a heart that is sick and suffers so: it’s a long time that this heart ... you, is not seeing. Please, O please be kind to me, because I don’t feel I’ll be able to be well again separate from my darling. Now please be kind to my grieving heart because in Jahan and the world your face it prefers to be loving.
I am so eager to feel your long and luxurious hair... of your eyes, beautiful and languishing... I despair. Your hair is as dark as night, face is bright as day: perhaps like Narcissus in water... reflecting there. It’s true that my heart has been badly burnt by you, but, my broken heart you’d heal if only you did care. Please, be attentive to my sick and sorry heart and be kind, all know how I love you: beyond compare! You’re tall like the high cypress and I’m so small ... how you make this heart suffer... you are unaware. When from your fair face your dark hair you shake, so eager is Jahan and the world, to look and stare!
O Lord, You forgive all of those who of sin are guilty, You decorate the world with Your power, this I see ... I am here O Lord and I am crying in Your sight Lord, come to my rescue, You own Jahan’s world, and me!
The only opinion that we agree with is Your opinion; no beautiful face but Yours, of them You are the one. There is no asylum for me except that home of Yours: everywhere can be seen Your slaves ... by the million!
If only out of this sad place me You should take... and out of my heart this sorrow You would take: in this poor life of mine I have so many problems, so You kindly away all my problems should take.
Please, do not deprive me any longer of Your kindness, don’t give me anymore of this sea of sorrow, give less. I no longer have a shelter left except for You I confess, my hope is that You will not leave me ... nevertheless!
Is there anything that the world does, except oppression? It will grow a rose in ten days ... only thorns from thereon. It’s an extremely difficult problem that is happening here: we don’t know what Fate does, when will it find solution?
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