ការបកប្រែអត្ថន័យគួរអាន - ការបកប្រែជាភាសាអង់គ្លេស - បណ្ឌិត វ៉ាលីទព្លីហាស្ហ អូម៉ើរី - កំពុងដំណើរការលើវា * - សន្ទស្សន៍នៃការបកប្រែ
ការបកប្រែអត្ថន័យ
អាយ៉ាត់: (120) ជំពូក: តហា
فَوَسۡوَسَ إِلَيۡهِ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنُ قَالَ يَٰٓـَٔادَمُ هَلۡ أَدُلُّكَ عَلَىٰ شَجَرَةِ ٱلۡخُلۡدِ وَمُلۡكٖ لَّا يَبۡلَىٰ
﴾120﴿ Then Satan[218] whispered to him: “O Adam! Shall I direct you to the Tree of Immortality and a kingship that never decays?”[219]
[218] We observe here that God Almighty uses the word “Satan” (al-Shayṭān) in reference to the same entity He had earlier referred to as Iblīs (cf. 7: 116). While both terms point to the archnemesis of humankind, their usage is nuanced and deliberate.
From a linguistic standpoint, Iblīs is a proper noun derived from iblās, denoting despair or loss of hope in Divine Mercy. The root b-l-s signifies silence and despondency resulting from grief or defeat. The verb ablasa describes one bereft of hope and comfort (cf. Ibn Fāris, Maqāyīs al-Lughah; al-Iṣfahānī, al-Mufradāt; al-Zajjāj, Maʿānī al-Qur’ān). In contrast, Shayṭān is a descriptive term applied to every rebellious and obstinate being—whether human, jinn, or beast—marked by excessive transgression. It is derived either from shaṭana, “to be far,” in reference to being distant from righteousness and Divine Mercy, or from shāṭa, “to burn,” symbolising either his fiery origin or his ruinous defiance (cf. Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān al-ʿArab; al-Fayrūzābādī, al-Qāmūs al-Muḥīṭ; Ibn al-Athīr, al-Nihāyah fī Gharīb al-Ḥadīth).
In Islamic theology, Iblīs is a being created from fire who worshipped alongside the angels, though he was never of their kind. When Allah commanded the angels to prostrate to Adam (عليه السلام), Iblīs defied the command out of arrogance, claiming superiority due to his fiery origin over the clay of Adam (عليه السلام). For this, he was expelled from Divine Mercy and cast down from the celestial realm. He then petitioned for reprieve until the Day of Resurrection, and the All-Forbearing granted it. Assured of delay, he grew defiant and vowed: “So by Your Might! I shall surely mislead them all * except Your servants among them—those made sincere” (38: 82–83). The Qur’an identifies Iblīs as al-Shayṭān in various places, such as: “Then the Satan whispered to them to expose to them what had been hidden from them of their shameful parts...” (7: 20); and: “O Children of Adam (عليه السلام)! Let not the Satan tempt you as he drove your two parents out of the Garden, stripping them of their garments to show them their shameful parts...” (7: 27) (cf. al-Ṭabarī, Ibn Kathīr).
Theologically, al-Shayṭān may denote Iblīs specifically, as in the story of Adam (عليه السلام), or refer more generally to any malignant agent of corruption—human or jinn—that invites to evil and misguidance. This broader use is affirmed in: “Like so We made for every Prophet an enemy—satans from humankind and jinn—who inspire one another with gilded speech to deceive...” (6: 112) (cf. Ibn al-Jawzī, al-Qurṭubī, al-Shinqīṭī).
In light of this, a semantic distinction in the Qur’an’s usage of the two terms becomes evident. The name Iblīs is employed in contexts that underscore his rebellion and despair—his defiance of the Divine command and his subsequent banishment from Divine Mercy. The term Shayṭān, on the other hand, is used where he is depicted as actively scheming: sowing corruption, whispering temptations, and leading astray—particularly in his seduction of Adam (عليه السلام), his wife, and their descendants thereafter, as exemplified in the very two ayas upon which this discussion is based.
[219] In these ayas (117–120), the Qur’anic narrative establishes a profound ontological and ethical contrast between Divine provision and Satanic deception—a contrast that goes to the heart of the human condition. God Almighty addresses Adam (عليه السلام) and his spouse with a benevolent command: “Indeed, it is I who provide for you here: so eat freely from wherever you will, and do not approach this tree…” (cf. 7: 19). What is provided by the Divine is clear, sufficient, and grounded in mercy. It encompasses the four cardinal necessities of dignified human existence—food, drink, clothing, and shelter—each of which protects the human being from vulnerability and indignity.
These are not merely material needs but markers of what the Qur’an elsewhere describes as ḥayāt ṭayyibah (a wholesome life). They represent a state of Divinely-granted equilibrium, in which the human being can dwell in peace, free of anxiety, shame, or deprivation. This is a vision of life grounded in gratitude, restraint, and trust.
In stark opposition stands the Satanic whisper. His proposition is not framed in terms of need, but in terms of desire: “Shall I direct you to the Tree of Immortality and a kingship that never decays?” (20: 120). These are phantoms of permanence and power, appealing not to Adam’s hunger or thirst, but to his latent yearning for more than sufficiency. The irony is striking: Adam (عليه السلام) was already in a state of comfort, provision, and Divine intimacy—yet it was the suggestion of something beyond what had been Divinely apportioned that triggered the Fall.
This seduction by excess reveals a deeper Qur’anic anthropology: the fall of man is not due to scarcity, but to the refusal to be content with sufficiency. The sin lies not in hunger, but in ṭamaʿ—unrestrained yearning for what one has neither need nor right to. Satan’s success lies in this redirection of man’s orientation—from the tangible, blessed reality to the shimmering promise of what is unattainable. In this manner, the Fall becomes an existential metaphor: a turning away from Divine sufficiency toward the illusion of autonomous gain.
This perspective is echoed in the wisdom of the Prophet (ﷺ), who said: “Whoever wakes up secure in his home, healthy in his body, and possessing his day’s provision—it is as if the world in its entirety has been granted to him.” (al-Tirmidhī: 2346; Ibn Mājah: 4141). In this ḥadīth, we find a prophetic anthropology that redefines wealth and fulfilment’ not in terms of abundance, but in terms of qanāʿah (contentment). The Prophet (ﷺ) situates true prosperity in the recognition of sufficiency, not in the illusion of perpetuity or expansion. It is a direct rebuttal to Satan’s deceit: if man is content, he is immune to temptation; if he is grateful, he is protected from delusion.
The lesson embedded in these verses is timeless and universal. The tragedy of humankind is not merely in external loss, but in the interior dislocation that occurs when sufficiency is abandoned in pursuit of illusion. The Fall, then, is not merely historical—it is archetypal. It recurs whenever man turns away from what God has given, and yearns instead for what God has withheld as a trial. In that moment, desire severs trust, and illusion eclipses gratitude.
Hence, the narrative is not just a moral story about temptation; it is a theological statement about the nature of Divine mercy, the limits of human aspiration, and the peril of measuring dignity by imagined gain. Against the false promises of Satan—immortality, dominion, autonomy—the Qur’an reasserts the truth: that sufficiency is a mercy, and contentment is salvation.
From a linguistic standpoint, Iblīs is a proper noun derived from iblās, denoting despair or loss of hope in Divine Mercy. The root b-l-s signifies silence and despondency resulting from grief or defeat. The verb ablasa describes one bereft of hope and comfort (cf. Ibn Fāris, Maqāyīs al-Lughah; al-Iṣfahānī, al-Mufradāt; al-Zajjāj, Maʿānī al-Qur’ān). In contrast, Shayṭān is a descriptive term applied to every rebellious and obstinate being—whether human, jinn, or beast—marked by excessive transgression. It is derived either from shaṭana, “to be far,” in reference to being distant from righteousness and Divine Mercy, or from shāṭa, “to burn,” symbolising either his fiery origin or his ruinous defiance (cf. Ibn Manẓūr, Lisān al-ʿArab; al-Fayrūzābādī, al-Qāmūs al-Muḥīṭ; Ibn al-Athīr, al-Nihāyah fī Gharīb al-Ḥadīth).
In Islamic theology, Iblīs is a being created from fire who worshipped alongside the angels, though he was never of their kind. When Allah commanded the angels to prostrate to Adam (عليه السلام), Iblīs defied the command out of arrogance, claiming superiority due to his fiery origin over the clay of Adam (عليه السلام). For this, he was expelled from Divine Mercy and cast down from the celestial realm. He then petitioned for reprieve until the Day of Resurrection, and the All-Forbearing granted it. Assured of delay, he grew defiant and vowed: “So by Your Might! I shall surely mislead them all * except Your servants among them—those made sincere” (38: 82–83). The Qur’an identifies Iblīs as al-Shayṭān in various places, such as: “Then the Satan whispered to them to expose to them what had been hidden from them of their shameful parts...” (7: 20); and: “O Children of Adam (عليه السلام)! Let not the Satan tempt you as he drove your two parents out of the Garden, stripping them of their garments to show them their shameful parts...” (7: 27) (cf. al-Ṭabarī, Ibn Kathīr).
Theologically, al-Shayṭān may denote Iblīs specifically, as in the story of Adam (عليه السلام), or refer more generally to any malignant agent of corruption—human or jinn—that invites to evil and misguidance. This broader use is affirmed in: “Like so We made for every Prophet an enemy—satans from humankind and jinn—who inspire one another with gilded speech to deceive...” (6: 112) (cf. Ibn al-Jawzī, al-Qurṭubī, al-Shinqīṭī).
In light of this, a semantic distinction in the Qur’an’s usage of the two terms becomes evident. The name Iblīs is employed in contexts that underscore his rebellion and despair—his defiance of the Divine command and his subsequent banishment from Divine Mercy. The term Shayṭān, on the other hand, is used where he is depicted as actively scheming: sowing corruption, whispering temptations, and leading astray—particularly in his seduction of Adam (عليه السلام), his wife, and their descendants thereafter, as exemplified in the very two ayas upon which this discussion is based.
[219] In these ayas (117–120), the Qur’anic narrative establishes a profound ontological and ethical contrast between Divine provision and Satanic deception—a contrast that goes to the heart of the human condition. God Almighty addresses Adam (عليه السلام) and his spouse with a benevolent command: “Indeed, it is I who provide for you here: so eat freely from wherever you will, and do not approach this tree…” (cf. 7: 19). What is provided by the Divine is clear, sufficient, and grounded in mercy. It encompasses the four cardinal necessities of dignified human existence—food, drink, clothing, and shelter—each of which protects the human being from vulnerability and indignity.
These are not merely material needs but markers of what the Qur’an elsewhere describes as ḥayāt ṭayyibah (a wholesome life). They represent a state of Divinely-granted equilibrium, in which the human being can dwell in peace, free of anxiety, shame, or deprivation. This is a vision of life grounded in gratitude, restraint, and trust.
In stark opposition stands the Satanic whisper. His proposition is not framed in terms of need, but in terms of desire: “Shall I direct you to the Tree of Immortality and a kingship that never decays?” (20: 120). These are phantoms of permanence and power, appealing not to Adam’s hunger or thirst, but to his latent yearning for more than sufficiency. The irony is striking: Adam (عليه السلام) was already in a state of comfort, provision, and Divine intimacy—yet it was the suggestion of something beyond what had been Divinely apportioned that triggered the Fall.
This seduction by excess reveals a deeper Qur’anic anthropology: the fall of man is not due to scarcity, but to the refusal to be content with sufficiency. The sin lies not in hunger, but in ṭamaʿ—unrestrained yearning for what one has neither need nor right to. Satan’s success lies in this redirection of man’s orientation—from the tangible, blessed reality to the shimmering promise of what is unattainable. In this manner, the Fall becomes an existential metaphor: a turning away from Divine sufficiency toward the illusion of autonomous gain.
This perspective is echoed in the wisdom of the Prophet (ﷺ), who said: “Whoever wakes up secure in his home, healthy in his body, and possessing his day’s provision—it is as if the world in its entirety has been granted to him.” (al-Tirmidhī: 2346; Ibn Mājah: 4141). In this ḥadīth, we find a prophetic anthropology that redefines wealth and fulfilment’ not in terms of abundance, but in terms of qanāʿah (contentment). The Prophet (ﷺ) situates true prosperity in the recognition of sufficiency, not in the illusion of perpetuity or expansion. It is a direct rebuttal to Satan’s deceit: if man is content, he is immune to temptation; if he is grateful, he is protected from delusion.
The lesson embedded in these verses is timeless and universal. The tragedy of humankind is not merely in external loss, but in the interior dislocation that occurs when sufficiency is abandoned in pursuit of illusion. The Fall, then, is not merely historical—it is archetypal. It recurs whenever man turns away from what God has given, and yearns instead for what God has withheld as a trial. In that moment, desire severs trust, and illusion eclipses gratitude.
Hence, the narrative is not just a moral story about temptation; it is a theological statement about the nature of Divine mercy, the limits of human aspiration, and the peril of measuring dignity by imagined gain. Against the false promises of Satan—immortality, dominion, autonomy—the Qur’an reasserts the truth: that sufficiency is a mercy, and contentment is salvation.
តាហ្វសៀរជាភាសាអារ៉ាប់ជាច្រេីន:
ការបកប្រែអត្ថន័យ
អាយ៉ាត់: (120) ជំពូក: តហា
ការបកប្រែអត្ថន័យគួរអាន - ការបកប្រែជាភាសាអង់គ្លេស - បណ្ឌិត វ៉ាលីទព្លីហាស្ហ អូម៉ើរី - កំពុងដំណើរការលើវា - សន្ទស្សន៍នៃការបកប្រែ
ការបកប្រែដោយបណ្ឌិត វ៉ាលីទព្លីហាស្ហ អូម៉ើរី។