This poem by the Persian Sufi Poet Abū Saʿīd Abū'l-Khayr or Abusa'id Abolkhayr
(Persian: ابوسعید ابوالخیر) (December 7, 967 - January 12, 1049)
is inscribed on the tomb of Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī
and is often incorrectly attributed to him.
باز آ باز آ، هر آن چه هستی باز آ
گر کافر و گبر و بتپرستی باز آ
این درگهِ ما، درگهِ نومیدی نیست
صد بار اگر توبه شکستی باز آ
___________
Transliteration:
bāz ā bāz ā, har ān keh hastee bāz ā
gar kāfer o gabr o bot parastee bāz ā
een dargeh-ye mā, dargeh-ye nomeedee neest
sad bār agar tobeh shekastee bāz-ā
___________
I provide three translations. The first, by Barks, is the most famous rendering into English. Barks captures the simplicity of the sentiment. Gamart more accurately translates the verse. My own version is meant to be literal, rather than poetic. None of the English translations capture the repugnance that the words infidel, heretic, pagan, unbeliever or idolater carry in the original. Please read the note for further insight into this poem.
___________
Translation by Coleman Barks:
Come, come, whoever you are.
Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again, come, come.
___________
Translation by Sidi Ibrahim Gamart:
Come again, please, come again, Whoever you are. Religious, infidel, heretic or pagan. Even if you promised a hundred times And a hundred times you broke your promise, This door is not the door Of hopelessness and frustration. This door is open for everybody. Come, come as you are.
___________
My own more literal translation:
Come, come, whoever you are, come again
Be you faithless, unbeliever or idolater, come again
This doorway of ours, it is not the entry to despair
If you’ve broken your repentance a hundred times, come again.
___________
Notes:
bāz ā = come again; welcome (bāz means both “again” and “open”; both meanings are relevant here)
kāfer = usually translated as infidel, the basic meaning of the word in Arabic (kufr) is someone who is ungrateful [for God’s blessings], or who has no faith; by extension, someone who does not believe in the tenants of Islam, who is a pagan, non-believer, or member of a non-Muslim religion. It is commonly used as a pejorative term.
gebr or gabr = the word originally referred to someone who was a Zoroastrian but came to have a pejorative meaning referring to any non-Muslim, or sometimes to any unbeliever The word continues to be used as a slur against Christians in some former areas of the Ottoman Empire.
Bot parasti = idol worshiper (again, a pejorative term)
All three of the phrases used have the sting of extremely insulting, pejorative terms. All three place the person being referred to as the most outcast or outside categories in Islamic society. To say they are welcome is to go against all expectations.
* Note that the word Dargah has many meanings, several of which are indicated directly in this line: portal, door, threshold, the site of the saint’s tomb. The royal court (dargah) was also where the king dispensed legal rulings and justice, which also plays into the poem: no matter how many transgressions you have made, this is not the place for having no hope. Baz A, means, come, come again, welcome.
* درگاه (درگهِ) dargāh (dar=door; gāh or gah=place): Portal, door; location of the door [into a house or building]; threshold; a royal court, a palace; a mosque; shrine or tomb (of some reputed saint}; place of pilgrimage.
** nomidi: no hope (na=no; omid=hope)
tobeh (Arabic “tawbeh”) = repentance. In Islam repentance is an individual matter between an individual and the Divine. By using this word the poet transfers the point of view from society’s vantage point (someone who is outside the fold of society), to the personal (what is my relationship to the Divine).
Persian (Farsi) Calligraphy by S J Thomas www.palmstone.com
Ok this isn't a bug but I need to share - LOOK at these absolutely minuscule precious little poppies
White pygmy-poppy, Canbya candida, found in Southern California
Photos by keirmorse, mojavedon, and pokemon_master
Talking to smart people who are scared of nuclear waste has me like AHAHHHHHH
Boomers can navigate screens like THIS no problem in order to slurp down the next utter bullshit right-wing-tinged AI slop but can't manage to understand that waving a card in front of the screen (not the card reader) without having pressed the giant "pay now" button on a streamlined self-checkout system will not, in fact, mean they have paid for their items. And then they will be rude to you about it
— May 4, 1915 / Franz Kafka diaries
CALL ESTROGEN HTML/CSS THE WAY IT DEVELOPS YOUR FRONT END
physically go to your local library at least once. seriously.
look around. find a random book with a cover that catches your attention. read the description. read the first page. if you like the sounds of it, borrow it and take it home to read. borrow a handful of books even.
if a book loses your interest, drop it. if a book grips onto you, ride that wave.
i've struggled to read recreationally for years despite having read so much as a kid. a lot of us are frozen by the seemingly infinite choices. even when we buy books to take home, we don't read them because which book is worth reading first? we don't have to decide, we have it right here in our bookshelves, we have an eternity of never deciding.
in this past month, i have read five books, most of them i've never heard of when i spotted their cover at the library. most of them, i've ended up loving. the due date of library books maintains the ability to read a book so i can return them to the library and leave the library with more books. an even better incentive than borrowing ebooks, because i actually have to leave the house and not be a hermit.
so if you used to enjoy reading but struggle with it now, ignore the book recs you hear. go to the library, come across a book that piques your interest, and read one page after another until you either lose interest or finish the book.
then it's onto the next one.
Source details and larger version.
La Grace is a replica of a brig from the 18th century.
The original ship of Augustine Herman bore this name, during merchant and exploratory travels around Europe, United States, Caribbean and across the Atlantic Ocean. La Grace was also renowned for her corsair activities. She was launched 2010.