Be useful, so long as you're able to strive!
For your goodness and Sádi's discourse will survive.
On the Sympathy of Kings.
(THE KING, AND THE PEASANT AND HIS ASS.)
A certain one's donkey had sunk in the mud;
From anger the blood reached his heart like a flood.
There were desert and rain, cold and torrents, around!
And the black skirt of Darkness hung over the ground.
From night until morning his rage he let loose;
He reviled and reproached and indulged in abuse.
Neither kindred nor foe from his tongue got away;
Nor the sultan who over the country held sway.
The king of that region, a person renowned,
Was playing chaugan1 on the exercise-ground;
He heard those remarks, so remote from the truth,
And neither could listen nor answer, forsooth.
The man saw the chief of the country, and found
That he heard all he said from a neighbouring mound.
The monarch abashed, turned his eyes on his train :—
"Can any, the anger he bears me, explain?"
Some one answered, "Oh king! with the sword take his life!
For he spared none-not even his daughter and wife.”
The monarch sublime looked about him in ire;
Saw the man in distress and his ass in the mire.
He pitied the poor, wretched villager's plight,
And swallowed his rage, at the words full of spite;
Gave him gold and a horse and fur cloak of his own :-
How comely is kindness when rancour is shown!
Chaugan, a game played on horseback with clubs and a ball, similar to the modern game of "polo."
"Oh old man! void of wisdom and sense," some one
"You've evaded death, strangely!" "Desist!" he replied; "If I sorely lamented because of my grief, Becoming his station, he gave me relief.”
Rend'ring evil for evil is easy to do;
If you're manly, do good to the man who wronged you!
(OF THE RICH MAN AND THE NOBLE POOR MAN).
A haughty one, drunk with the pride of high place,
Shut the door of his house in a poor beggar's face.
The pauper sat down in a corner, distressed;
Liver hot and sighs cold, from the fire in his breast.
His sobs reached the ears of a man who was blind :-
"What has vexed you and caused you this fury of mind?"
He told-shedding tears on the dust of the road—
Of the cruel oppression that proud person showed.
He replied, "Oh unknown one! abandon your care!
For the night share my dwelling and break your fast
there!"
By kindness and coaxing he made him subdued;
Took him home to his house and regaled him with food. The Dervish of luminous nature reposed,
And said, "May the Lord ope your eyes that are closed! !”
Some drops, in the night, from his eyes trickled free;
He oped them at dawn and the world he could see !
Through the city the story was told with surprise,
That the man who was blind in the night oped his eyes.
The hard-hearted tyrant was told the affair—
From whom the poor man had gone off in despair.
He said, "Oh thou favoured of Fate, tell me true!
How has this hard affair become easy to you.?
Who caused your earth-lighting-up candle to blaze?"
He answered: "Oh tyrant, of burdensome days!
Your vision was short and your wisdom depraved;
With the sad-visaged owl, not the Phoenix, you slaved.
In my face, the same person has opened the door,
In whose face you had shut it, the ev'ning before.
If kiss but the dust of the feet of such men,
By manhood! the light will approach you again.
Those people whose heart's eyes are totally blind,
Appear to neglect this eye-salve in their mind."
When the man of changed fortune this censuring met, At his fingers he gnawed with the teeth of Regret ; "My falcon," he said, "fell to your snare as game; The good fortune was mine, but it went to your name." When has any one brought the male hawk to his net, Who has, mouse-like, his teeth upon avarice set?
On the Comforting of People till they arrive among the Pious.
Beware, if the path of the good you select!
Do not show in your service a moment's neglect !
Feed the partridge, the quail, and the pigeon with care,
For some day the griffin1 may fall to your snare.
When Humility's arrow you ev'rywhere cast,
You may hope to bring game to your keeping, at last.
But one pearl will be found in a number of shells;
On the target, but one, in a hundred shafts, tells.
1 Griffin, the simurgh, a fabulous bird of happy omen.
(OF THE MAN AND HIS LOST SON).
A man lost his son off a pack-camel's back,
And, at night, searched the whole caravan for his track.
He asked at each tent, and to ev'ry side hied;
In the darkness, the light shining bright he espied.
When again he returned to the caravan folk,
To a driver of camels, I heard, he thus spoke :-
"Do you
know how this gem was recovered by me?
Whoever approached me, I said, 'It is he!'"
The holy, with life, ask each person they can,
In the hope that they sometime may get the right man. For the sake of one heart, many griefs they oppose, And endure many thorns, for the sake of one rose.
(OF THE PRINCE'S CROWN JEWEL).
From the crown of a prince, in a stony camp-ground,
A gem fell at night, 'mong the pebbles around.
Said his father, "The night has so very dark grown,
How can you distinguish the gem from a stone?
Preserve, oh my son, all the stones lying here!
That the ruby may not from their midst disappear.”
'Mong the rabble, the holy of rapturous face,
Are the ruby 'mong stones, in a dark, dreary place.
The load of the foolish with dignity bear!
For, at last, the reward of the pious you'll share..
You can see that the person in love with a friend,
Bears the enemy's troubles that on him descend;
Tears his robes, like a rose at the hand of a thorn;
For the warm lover smiles, like the pomegranate torn.
For the love you bear one, sympathize with the whole !
Take care of a hundred, because of one soul!
If the humble in gait and distracted in mind,
Debased and in poverty steeped, you should find,
Never view them as though they delighted your eyes!
That they are approved of by God, will suffice.
The person who may in your judgment be vile,
May be pow'rless to guide his own actions, the while.
The door of God's knowledge is open to those,
In the faces of whom, people other doors close.
Many bitter delights of the tasters of woe,
On the Last Day, as awful accusers will show.
If wisdom and judgment within you are found,
Kiss the king's grandson's hand, in the dark dungeon bound!
He will some day go free through the state-prison gate, And confer on you rank, when he comes to be great. Do not burn up that rose-bush in autumn, though sere! For to you in the spring, it will precious appear.
(OF A MISERLY FATHER AND HIS PRODIGAL SON).
A man to spend money lacked courage and will;
He had gold but no stomach for eating his fill.
He ate not, in order to comfort his mind;
Nor gave, that to-morrow release he might find.
He was thinking of silver and gold, night and day;
The silver and gold in the miser's hand lay.
The son, in concealment, one day saw the spot
Where the father had hidden his money, ill-got.
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