#persian calligraphy

[thepreciouspurrsian]

Codextober 2025 - Day 3 : Weapon

Basim’s sword, Valhalla vs Mirage. Mockup art under the cut:

[farsi-calligraphy]

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

[asneakyobserver]

A thousand THANK YOU to @thepreciouspurrsian for this wonderful gift!!! 😍 She made these beautiful pieces of calligraphy, and you may find many others on her blog:

The images represent the word "Omid" (Persian for "Hope") turned into literal art 🤩:

And trust me, a ray of hope was exactly what I needed in this though moment... 2025 hasn't been a memorable year, and I will probably remember these holidays and this Christmas as the weirdest of my life (so far...🥲)

Things are getting slightly better now: as a friend of mine said, I hope the new year will bring a lot of good luck to me and to my family🤞🏻🥹🍀

Thank you again from the bottom of my heart, my dear friend ❤️❤️❤️ and happy new year to everyone!!!

[tara-zamanfar]

Calligraphy by Tara Zamanfar

Photographer @aaliyahroyle

[acardinalisred]

[hankpocketnife]

Mirza Mohammad Seifi Qazwini

[wherefeelingsland]

"Whenever I surrender to fate...."-Rumi .V1 by MrymRIE

Design and persian calligraphy by me[ FeelingsLand.etsy.com] The work was hard and it took me too much time♡. poem by Rumi (molavi): هر لحظه که تسلیمم در کارگه تقدیر، آرام‌تر از آهو بی‌باک‌تر از شیرم/ هرلحظه که می‌کوشم در کار کنم تدبیر‌، رنج از پی رنج آید، زنجیر پی زنجیر

Meaning: "Whenever I surrender to fate,

I am as calm as a deer, as brave as a lion.

Whenever I try to control my destiny,

Pain follows pain, chains follow chains."

This poem by Molavi speaks to the paradox of human effort and surrender to fate. He illustrates that when he surrenders to destiny, he is as serene as a deer and as fearless as a lion. However, when he tries to control and plan everything, he experiences continuous suffering and entrapment. https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/165337862?asc=u

Design and calligraphy by me[ FeelingsLand.etsy.com] poem by Rumi (molavi): هر لحظه که تسلیمم در کارگه تقدیر، آرام‌تر از آهو بی‌باک‌تر از شی

Design and calligraphy by me[ FeelingsLand.etsy.com] poem by Rumi (molavi): هر لحظه که تسلیمم در کارگه تقدیر، آرام‌تر از آهو بی‌باک‌تر از شی

[antlered-vixen]

Golnaz Fathi, born in 1972 in Tehran, is a tremendous Iranian artist pushing the boundaries of Persian calligraphy, and I love her very, very dearly. I have occasionally seen her works on Tumblr being misattributed or it being assumed that “Golnaz” is a man and I am here to redress this terrible injustice.