Diwan.
Just how long collection Nasir's poems which now is known as his Diwan was accumulating, who took charge of his books and papers after his death, who selected his poems for the earlier versions of hisDiwan, and how other poems came into various anthologies, - all these questions have no answer. There is no doubt that amongst the poems which are as his there may be many forgeries. This particularly applies to those of them which develop atheistic, blasphemous, and other similar ideas. Such poems could easily have been inspired by the legend of Nasir, as an arch- heretic, magician and alchemist.
Rigid and complex rules governing matters of style in Persina poetry, as is known, leave the poet almost no freedom to express his thoughts in plain, sensible form. He may only allude to this or that, and such an allusion, is obviously intended for those who can understand it. Therefore, for the students of Ismailism, the Diwandoes not promise much useful information. Even what little the author really wished to, and could, reveal, he had, by the requirements of style and poetics, to camouflage, cipher, efface, and make unrecognizable in every possible way. Such poetical references are not only difficult to decipher, but very often are treacherously misleading, especially in the case of the early author such as Nasir.
In his preface to the Tehran edition of the Diwan (1929), Dr. Taqi-Zada discusses Nasir's reference to his own "two diwans which are as bog as the diwansof Buhturi and ‘Unsuri' (p. 15, line 3). He infers that in addition to his Persian diwan, Nasir had another one, in Arabic. I am sure this is an error. No direct and plain reference to the existence of Nasir's Arabic diwan is known, and we may be sure that if he had one he would not fail to refer to it more than once. We may ask whether his qasidas were already arranged into a diwan at that early time? And whether the expression "two diwans" must necessarily refer to one Persian and one Arabic? Why not two Persian diwans? Many authors had several. In addition to this we must consider that it is modern usage to call a collection of one's poems simply"diwan". The mediaeval usage was to call them: diwan-i qasa'id, diwan-i ghazaliyyat, whence we can see that the term diwan still retained its original meaning of a "collection," "roll." It might also imply a collection of prose works. I very much doubt that while he was still living there was anything existence like a collection of his qasidas, arranged and prepared for use in public. His qasidas, surely, has a definite purpose, and if he collected these, he probably intended them to go to Cairo headquarters, to which the originals were first addressed. It is quite possible that his disciples copied some for their own use, and that someone, devoted to his memory, after his death collected a certain amount which became the nucleus of the Diwan as we know it.
To offer a sound judgement concerning the merits of Nasir's poems, and his relative place amongst the prominent poets in Persian literature, would be possible only for those Persians who are not only gifted with the necessary talents of art- critics, but also have been brought up in the traditions of mediaeval Persian poetry. I doubt whether many persons of such type are available now. Here I may only note a layman's impression which, of course, have a purely personal origin, and do not in the least pretend to influence anyone's judgment.
Nasir's poetry is extremely monotonous, and, compared with the poems of many of his contemporaries, sounds just as crude and rustic as his philosophical works. Monotony depends on all these poems being qasida, which are subject strict rules in composition. In a sense it would be fair to call the qasidas, as a poetical form, a camouflaged and poetically-colored application to the authorities, a business letter. Nasir handles them in his crude rustic way, and, not possessing first class talent, he leaves the stitches to leap into the eye. Almost all his poems are built on exactly the same plan. First the "prelude" in the form of a picture of nature, such as spring, flowers, and so forth. Then follow complaints on perfidy of fate, frailty of the world, the author's own sufferings. Later, also quite abruptly, comes a large dose of moralizing, in the nature of those good advices which are proverbially cheap, nasihat, using the Persian term. Finally, and just as abruptly, comes the praise of the Imam, al-Mustansir bi'l-lah, and expression of devotion.
To the qasida-minded mediaeval reader such seemingly unconnected partition was most probably of no consequence. He simply treated such a poem as several independent works of art, admiring the "how," not "what," in it (as the latter was previously known). From the modern point of view, however, such lack of unity constitutes a fundamental defect, destroying the whole enchantment of the poem. It would be counterbalanced to some extent by the quality of the verse, particularly those lines which "stick to memory." I doubt, however, whether Nasir has any or at least many such verses, or whether his poems are very musical and bear the fine finish of the poems of really great masters in Persian literature.
Although the editors of the Diwan as printed in Tehran, 1929, has spent much admirable enthusiasm, energy, acumen, and care in their difficult task, the edition cannot be considered as final. Before this claim could be made, it would be necessary to examine those manuscripts which are available in European libraries, and improve upon the critical methods of selection. We must be grateful to them, however, remembering that perfection is extremely difficult to attain in these matters.