A Night without the Dawn

Noctū vēnit amīcus affābiliter

Noctī iubeō ne dīcat arcāna mea

Nox dīxit “pēs et caput aspectā mē;

Est sōl tibi, ut afferam ad te aurōram?”

Translation of Rūmī’s quatrain #1186, Foruzanfar, ed.; 

pg 30 in Houshmand’s Moon and Sun; 

quatrain #699 in Gamard’s The Quatrains of Rumi.

See blog entry for October 31, 2021 about Latin and Persian poetry. 

 

Last night out of a fount of kindness my beloved had come.

I told Night, “Do not divulge my secrets.”

Night said, “Look behind and in front then;

“You have the sun, how would I bring the morning?”

dūsh āmāda būd az sar-e lotfī yāram

shab rā goftam fāsh makon asrāram

shab goft pas ō pīsh nega kon āxer

xorshīd to dārī ze kojā sobh āram

دوش آمــده بود از سـر لطفی یارم

شــب را گفتــم فاش مـکن اسـرارم

شب گفت پس و پـیش نگه کن آخر

خورشید تو داری ز کجا صبح آرم

 

A night without dawn might seem a bleak thought, one devoid of hope, in other words, an unimaginable hell. But in this poem, Rūmī describes instead a nightless night, one where a different kind of sun shines, where, by the very meaning of “nightless” there is no dawn. “How am I,” asks Night, “who am defined by day, able to bring you morning, because you hold the sun?”

What sun is this? This sun is, I think, the illumination that comes through meditation or communion with the beloved, with God, or, in this case, perhaps with his teacher and mentor Shams-e Tabrīzī, whose name when translated becomes ‘The Sun of the City of Tabrīz.’ (Tabrīz is a city in northwestern Iran, a major stopover along the silk road in Rūmī’s time. Shams is an Arabic word for the sun (شمس)—actually a word with deep Semitic roots, which “blooms” in the Hebrew name Samson, “little sun,” Shimshon שמשון).

Through this illumination or awareness come answers to eternal secrets. Rūmī is then worried that the night might divulge these secrets, but the night allays his fears by saying that it cannot bring the dawn. Only the sun can bear such illumination.

A free translation:

My friend had come out of kindness the night before.

So I told the night, “Don’t you tell my secrets.”

But it said, “Just take a good look at me.

You’ve got the sun, how could I bring the dawn?”