Breaking the Glass Ceiling: Mahsati Ganjavi’s Ruba’i
For good reason, the ruba’is (quatrain poems in Oriental literature) of the legendary Azerbaijani Persian-writing medieval poetess Mahsati Ganjavi (original Manisa khanum Ganjavi) stands shoulder to shoulder with those of Omar Khayyam and another prominent Azerbaijani literati and Mahsati’s namesake Nizami Ganjavi.
Mahsati Ganjavi was born in 1098 in the ancient cultural city of Ganja, Azerbaijan. In her lifetime — at the crossroads of the 11th and 12th centuries — in her hometown and beyond, Mahsati’s talent for exploring female freedom and her free-thinking spirit was highly praised, and she is still admired today as a great female figure in the world of literature. Her love lyrics, being almost erotic in nature, greatly amused her contemporaries and nowadays bemuse literary critics and scholars searching to explain her ecstatic, metaphorical expressions, other than through the school of Sufism.
Her ruba’is touched on religious prejudice, conservatism, and women’s feelings through her commitment to love as a divine feeling and her eloquent imagery typical of the Oriental poetic tradition she was a true master of. She became a poet for several reasons: she had a comprehensive education for her time and gender; a close acquaintance with Oriental literature, music, and philosophy; a deep knowledge of folklore and fluency in the Persian and Arabic languages — lingua franca of the period and in which she wrote her poetry — as well as her Turkic mother tongue. She had also mastered chess, dancing, and singing, and was able to play several musical instruments. All of this, on top of her attractive appearance and enchanting voice, meant that many nobles and merchants came from afar to admire her including her husband-to-be, Amir Ahmed, a poet himself.
The power of her voice extended as far as the courts of Sultan Mahmud Saljugi and his uncle Sultan Sanjar Saljugi of the Seljuk dynasty (1084–1157) where she spent her most prolific period as a poet, dazzling guests at royal receptions and leading literary majlis (salons).
Mahsati’s life was hardly documented and is shrouded in legends, many of which were inscribed in the 13th-century dastan “Mahsati and Amir Ahmed”, an ornate form of oral history in Azerbaijan and Central Asia. Pieces of the manuscript are kept at the Institute of Manuscripts of Azerbaijan in the capital, Baku, and in Istanbul and London. It is claimed that this anonymously written dastan reveals an unknown side to Mahsati’s life as well as posing questions on the authenticity of oral history.
Mahsati became known as a poetess at a young age, living and traveling with her poet husband Amir Ahmed in Balkh, Merv, Rum (Asia Minor), Nishapur, Herat, Khorasan, Iraq, and Zuzan, and finally returning to her native Ganja where she lived until the end of her days.
According to legend, Mahsati first attracted the attention of Sultan Sanjar with an impromptu statement about unexpected snowfall. The sultan, leaving the waiting room to mount a horse, exclaimed in amazement when he saw everything was covered in snow. At that moment he heard the lines of Mahsati:
For you… Heaven has called fortunes; the steed
O sultan…and chosen you from all who lead:
Now it spreads a silver sheet upon the ground,
Steed’s gold-shod hooves…mud won’t impede.
The sultan was quick to reward her for her impromptu declaration and gave her the name “Mahsati” meaning “great lady” or “lunar lady”, maah meaning “moon” and sati meaning “lady” in Persian; from that time, Mahsati was her poetic pseudonym, and she became a confidante of the sultan.
Mahsati lived in the Kharabat quarter in Ganja, which was home to artisans such as tailors, jewellers, hat-makers, wool-spinners, butchers, and gold-panners, to whom she dedicated a series of poems where she speaks of belonging to a kind of guild of artisans. It is believed by some scholars that Mahsati was referring to the well-known Turkic and then Ottoman guild called Ahi, which was close to the Sufis and associated with the great poet Nizami Ganjavi. It was also thought that these poems, addressed to young artisans, were written specifically for performance at Sufi meetings. The origin of the Ahi guild goes back to the 13th century, i.e. a later period in Mahsati’s life, yet according to Claude Cahen in his book Pre-Ottoman Turkey, the rise of the Ahi to Akhi Faraj Zanjani in northwestern Iran dates back to the 11th century.
Mahsati’s poetry invites me to ask open or long-standing questions such as where and how Mahsati derived her courage to write so freely and sensually. Women could feel this free only among the Sufis. In Triminghan’s words, a prominent English scholar, “mysticism was the only religious area where a woman could express herself. There were many women Sufis, among whom the most famous is Rabiya al-Adawiyya.”
But does this mean that Mahsati’s poetry is purely Sufi in nature? Did she really belong to the circle of Sufi poets? Or was Sufism a tool and means for Mahsati to unleash her feelings and her stories of love and passion? Was she after breaking the glass ceiling?
Most of the work of Mahsati Ganjavi has not survived. Today, we can cherish her 257 ruba’is and about 30 poetic passages which have been published and translated into many languages.
While literary scholars continue to reassess and fill in the gaps in Mahsati’s biography and work, I suggest simply taking pleasure in reading and making up your mind.
Below is a small selection of ruba’is, purely a personal choice and presented in three languages that are close to my mind and my heart. The first part consists of the English translation of selected ruba’is; the second part is the Azerbaijani and Russian translation of other selected ruba’is by Mahsati Ganjavi.
Ruba’is selection from Paul Smith, Mahsati Ganjavi: Lide and Poems, Translation & Introduction, New Humanity Books, 2013, 2016.
In the orchard last night I was moaning,
grieving:
as I walked…tears over my body I kept
shedding.
The red rose was appearing, her skirt was
tearing,
And all her blouse with m tears she was
spoiling.
I am a drunk and of the drunkards…
A slave:
I’m far from azcetics and of libertines
a slave.
I’m of moment Winebringer comes, saying…
“I can’t, be free to join the drinkers!’
A slave.
The body of ine has a heart full of ecstasy
İnside…
İt also has soul with a thousand flames to see,
İnside.
When, day and night I’m longing for Your face…
I have two eyes full of streams flowing freely,
İnside!
To be sucking Your ruby lips, forever,
I am longing,
To with You take wine in sips, forever,
I am longing.
Whether intoxicated or mad or sober…to
Hear sharp from Your fingertips forever
I am longing.
Wine cup one of our hands holds, a Koran the
other…
we’re sometimes aware or we’re in a drunken
stupor!
Who are really in this world that is so frail?
We’re not a Zoroastrian, not a real Muslim either.
For God’s sake, you, Turkish grace,
Come near, don’t let stay weeping my eyes.
If you were so severe to me,
My eyes shed torrents of my bloody tears.
By your guise’s colour the flower is embarrassed,
By the taster of your lip the date is embarrassed,
The decency is embarrassed near the
Indecency flat you made.
I look and see a black mole on your breast,
It claps and dances on a marble breast.
Don’t think it’s your body tracery.
It’s my heart’s blood on your breast.
Ever since these eyes of mine did happen to see Your eyes;
Sleep fled from my eyes, far from, unfortunately, Your eyes.
You, whose eyes the sight of all eyes make bright,
Never did my eyes see other like their majesty…
Your eyes.
Who admired your charm came back again,
Who is thirsty for your meeting came back again.
Make a new cage, sow virtue grain,
He who had broken his wing came back again.
While seeing your eyes these eyes,
My eyes’ sleep run away without your eyes.
Hey, whose eyes are the light of the eyes,
My eyes hadn’t seen eyes like your eyes.
Hey lover, in vain, tears from your eyes don’t shed,
Let me I myself grieve only, you not.
You are beloved, crying doesn’t suit you,
It’s my job, do it myself permit.
Cypress flirting in the garden to the flower,
Said, “I am created single in figure.”
While glorifying your figure the zephyr,
Bowed in front of you immediately as servitor.
Hey faithless lover, from your departure yesterday,
To my state like friend wept the enemy.
I moaned with your love so much that,
Looking at me the candle took fire restlessly.
For Christ’s sake, you Christian beauty,
Be so kind, come without fear, come to me.
You yourself wipe my tears,
Wet my lips with your lips immediately.
Your name falls from my tongue never,
Dreams of you are my bosom friend, lover.
My heart’s sigh or great God makes menace,
Don’t put me in danger.
Ruba’is selection from: Məhsəti Gəncəvi, Rubailər, 1961 &Мехсети Гянджеви. Лирика. Перевод В. Кафарова. Баку, 1983
(4)
Məni kam almağa qoymadı zaman,
Gücü çatan qədər elədi divan.
Deyəsən əhd etmiş, dolandıqca hey
Məni də özüylə hərtləsin dövran
На колесе времен — не год, не два -
Верчусь, полужива, полумертва.
Кружится колесо — весь мир кружится,
И у меня кружится голова.
(5)
Xidmətdən qovulmuş bir kəsdir ürək,
Adın-sanın yoxsa, həyatdan əl çək.
Bu dünya elə bir karvansaradır
Ki, qara pulu da dəyməzmiş, gerçək.
Душа, твой незавидный жребий схож
С бессилием отставленных вельмож.
А мир подобен каравансараю,
Которого ценят даже в грош.
(6)
Qəlbinə eşqdən söz yazab bir kəs
Bir ləhzə ömrünə puç deyə bilməz,
Bir həmdəm aradıq ömrümüz boyu,
Bizə həmdəm oldu yanıq bir nəfəs.
Тот, кто любви навек предаться мог,
Не смеет говорить: «мой жребий плох».
Я спутника себе всю жизнь искала,
Им оказался собственный мой вздох.
(16)
Bu dünya bir qızıl kuzəyə bənzər,
Suyu gah şirindir, gah da ki zəhər.
Çox da öyünmə ki, uzundur ömrün,
Əcəl köhnlənindı hazırdır yəhər.
Мир — золотой кувшин, хорош на вид,
Но не всегда хорошим нас поит,
А жизнь подобна краткому привалу -
Конь смерти ждет, оседланный стоит.
(22)
Sənə qismət olsa beş gün bu həyat,
Öz könlünlə yaşa, qəlbini yaşat…
Həmnəfəs axtarma, üzlətə çəkil,
Həmnəfəs aynamə pasladır, heyhat!
Живи один, ты вольно должен жить
И не спешить свое дыханье слить
С дыханием другого — тотчас может
Он зеркало судьбы твоей затмить.
(35)
Gözlərimdən qan-yaş axıtdım dünən,
Göylərə sovurdum torpaqları mən.
Kimin duasıdır, bilmirəm, ey dost,
Ki, ölmədim sənin dərya qəmindən.
Я слезы вместе с кровью пролила,
Я пепел с небом вровень подняла.
Благодаря молитвам — чьим -не знаю,
Я, изойдя тоской, не умерла.
(37)
Arvadla kişini bağlayar kəbin,
Bu işə yol verir şəriət, ayin.
Mənimsə kəbinim bir rübaidir,
Varmı bu kəbinə yol verən bir din?
Коран и шариат мужей и жен
Соединяют браком испокон.
Мой брачный договор — четверостишье,
Религии какой подвластен он?!
(38)
Daşda od olsan da, ey saqi, əğər,
Əcəl suyu səni bir gün söndürər.
Bu dünya torpaqdır, mütrüb, qəzəl de,
Saqi, nəfəs yeldir, badə ver, yetər!
В воде погибнет пламя все равно,
Как жить, коль пустотой дышать дано?
Мы все землею станем, так пускай же
Певец поет, а кравчий льет вино.
(48)
Doyunca mey içən dolaşar çılpaq,
Keçinər dünyada bir dəlisayaq.
Əfi düşmənlərim kor olsun deyə,
Bu yaqut şərabı içirəm ancaq.
Кто пьет вино, ходить нагим готов,
Не признавая разума оков.
Я опьянюсь и покажусь нагая
Пусть красота слепит моих врагов.
(49)
Laləni süsləmək vaxtıdır tamam,
Gül üstə, ey xacə, gəl qaldıraq cam;
Dəftəri sataraq, şərab nuş edək,
Gəlib mədrəsədə quraq intizam.
Лучатся маки в утренней росе,
Пора любви пришла во всей красе,
Мы книги в мейхане пропьем, а после
Уж наведем порядок в медресе.
(53)
Sənə dəm verirəm gül dodağımdan,
Qara zülflərimdən, şux yanağımdan.
Məst, ayıq, ya xumar rəqs eləyirəm,
Çəng çalıram sənin qarşında hər an.
Про свежесть губ напомнить поспешу,
Лицо открою, волос расчешу.
Я трезвой, полупьяной и хмельною
Лишь для тебя играю и пляшу.
(60)
Тебя целую, чувства не тая,
Весны моей долина — грудь твоя.
У нас с тобой два тела, но отныне
Единым сердцем стали грудь — ты и я.
O mim ləbindədir bu dodaqlarım,
O gümüş qoynundur güllü baharım…
İki ayrı canda bir ürəyik biz,
Bilirəm qədrini, nadir mirvarım!
(67)
Qəlbim yaralıdır, rəhm elə, ey yar,
Qalmadı könlümdə bir səbrü-qərar.
Bir anlıq vəsl üçün təsəlli ver ki,
Nə başqa bir arzum, nə ümidim var.
Душа — руина, из неё чуть свет
Терпение ушло, простыл и след.
На краткое свиданье дай надежду -
Иной мечты, иной надежды нет.
(76)
Hələ mey var ikən, ey nigar, yatma,
Busəsiz qalarsa dodaqlar, yatma!
Gecə qaranlıqdır, badələr aydın,
Xəlvət bir guşədir, mey də var, yatma.
Коль есть на донышке вино, не спи,
Коль поцелуев ждешь давно, не спи.
Ночь беспросветна, но бокал прозрачен.
Укромный уголок. Темно, не спи!
(79)
Yarın barmağında üzük olaydım,
Onun əllərində kaş ki solaydım!
Ox atanda məni düzəldə idi,
O gül dodağından öpüş alaydım.
Вдруг перстнем стать твоим не дико мне.
0, если б так судил владыка мне!
Тогда бы в лук закладывая стрелы,
Губами прикасался ты ко мне!
(80)
Səndə rahatlanır bütün yaranan,
Yox, məşuq demirəm, sən bir məbudsan!
Qəzəldə xəttüxal adını çəksəm,
Bəhanədir, qəsdim tək sənsən, inan!
С тобою мир не ведает тревог,
Ты — не кумир, ты — настоящий бог.
Я в песнь возьму припевом твое имя,
То — чаще вспоминать тебя предлог.
(104)
Yetməzmi qəribə verdin içkəncə,
Cəfanın hüdudu olmazmı, səncə?!
Demişdin: Gəncədə kamə yetərsən,
İndi bu mən, bu sən, bax, bu da Gəncə!
Чужбина хуже смерти от ножа,
Меня изгнал невежда и ханжа.
Ты обещал в Гяндже явить мне милость,
Изволь вот я, вот — ты, а вот — Гянджа!
(114)
Ey dost, qəmlə keçir sənsiz hər gecəm,
Yandırır yuxusuz gözlərimi nəm.
Zulfüntək qarışar yuxularım da,
Nərgizlərin kimi yuxuya getsəm.
Тебе враги твердили вразнобой:
«Не связывай судьбу с ее судьбой».
Ты хочешь, чтобы их труды пропали?
Давай же завтра встретимся с тобой!
(132)
Dözülməz bir acı zəhərdir fəraq,
O, şövqi, həvəsi yandırır ancaq.
Ölüm can qurtarır, böyük cəfadır –
Dünyada əzizdən, yardan ayrılmaq.
Опасней одиночество, чем яд,
В нём страсти и желания горят.
Смерть — все-таки, спасенье. Хуже смерти -
Жизнь без того, с кем даже смерти рад.
(148)
Yun əyirən oğlan mənim canımdır,
Onun zənəxdanı bir zindanımdır.
Onun dodağından busə ver, Allah,
Çünki o dodaqlar can dərmanımdır!
Мне дорог шерстобит румянолицый,
Но грудь его-души моей темница.
О боже, дай поцеловать его,
Я перестану, может быть, томиться!
(150)
Bənzər, dərzi oğlu, üzün qəmərə,
Sənə yüz Məhsəti dönər çakərə.
Əlindəki sap tək yolum düşə kaş
Şəkər dodağına gündə yüz kərə!
Ты — словно месяц, ученик портного,
Я — Мехсети, служить тебе готова,
Я нитью стать хочу, чтоб припадать
К устам твоим, что выглядят медово.
(169)
Kişi ol, əgər sən qadın deyilsən,
Bir an oxşamazsan başımı nədən?
Zər verər busəmə dünya şahları,
Zərsiz sən bir busə almazsan məndən!
Ужель и вправду мужем должно звать
Того, кто не умеет жён ласкать?
Мой поцелуй цари в полцарства ценят,
А ты не хочешь даром целовать!
Literature:
Huseynov R. 2013. The new return of Gozel Mahsati. Mahsati Ganjavi songs. Mahsati Ganjavi’s rubai in Rafael Huseynov’s Persian translations and Rizvan Sadirkhanov’s compositions. Baku: East-West.
Smith P., 2013.2016. Mahsati Ganjavi: Lide and Poems, Translation & Introduction, New Humanity Books.
Gəncəvi M. 1961. Rubailər. Azərbaycan Dövlət Nəşriyyatı, Bakı.
Rubaiyat, HajMa Group of companies
Гусейнов Р. 1989. «Мехсети как есть» Баку, «Язычы».
Гянджеви М. 1964. 1983. Лирика. Перевод Кафарова В. Баку, Азербайджанское государственное издательство.
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