When I found that I caused a disturbance to spread,
I abandoned that country and hastily fled.
If a fire in a cane-brake you cause to arise,
Look out for the tigers therein, if you're wise!
The young of a man-biting snake do not slay!
If you do, in the same dwelling-place do not stay!
When you've managed a hive, full of bees, to excite,
Run away from the spot! or you'll suffer their spite.
At one sharper than you, don't an arrow despatch !
When you've done it, your skirt1 in your teeth you should
catch!

No better advice Sádi's pages contain :

"When a wall's undermined, do not near it remain !' I travelled to Sind, after that Judgment Day;

By Yemen and Mecca I, thence, took my way.

From the whole of the bitterness, Fate made me meet,
My mouth till to-day has not shown itself sweet.
By the aiding of Bu-Bakar-Sad's fortune fair-
Whose like not a mother has borne nor will bear-
From the sky's cruel harshness, for justice I sought;
In this shadow diffuser, a refuge I got.

Like a slave, for the Empire I fervently pray :
"Oh God, cause this shadow for ever to stay!"
He applied not the salve to my wound's need alone,
But becoming the bounty and favour his own.
Meet thanks for his favours, when could I repeat?
Even if in his service my head changed to feet!

When these miseries passed I experienced joy;
Yet some of the subjects my conscience annoy.
One is when the hand of petition and praise,
To the shrine of the Knower of Secrets I raise,

1 To be better able to run away by catching up the skirt in the teeth. It is a common custom to tuck up the skirt and fasten it in the girdle round the loins.

The thoughts of that puppet of China arise,
And cover with dust my self-valuing eyes;

I know that the hand I stretched forth to the shrine,
Was not lifted by any exertion of mine!

Men of sanctity do not their hands upward bring,
But the Powers unseen pull the end of the string.
Ope's the door of devotion and well-doing, still,
Ev'ry man has not pow'r a good work to fulfil.
This same is a bar; for to Court to repair,
Is improper, except the king's order you bear.
No man can the great key of destiny own,
For absolute pow'r is the Maker's alone.

Hence, oh travelling man on the straight path Divine !
The favour is God, the Creator's, not thine.
Since, unseen, He created your mind pure and wise,
From your nature no action depraved can arise.
The same Who has poison produced in the snake,
The sweetness produced by the bee, too, did make.
When He wishes to change to a desert your land,
He first makes the people distressed at your hand;
And should His compassion upon you descend,
To the people through you He will comfort extend.
That you walk the right road, do not boast, I advise!
For the Fates took your hand and you managed to rise.
By these words you will benefit if you attend;
You will reach pious men if their pathway you wend.
You will get a good place if the Fates are your guide;
On the table of honour, rich fare they'll provide.

And yet 'tis not right that you eat all alone,

For the poor, helpless Dervish some thought should be shown.

Perhaps, you'll ask mercy for me when I die,

For upon my own efforts I do not rely.

CHAPTER IX.

ON PENITENCE.

OH Come thou, whose age has to seventy crept !
Perhaps, since it went to the winds, you have slept.
With provision for living your time you employed;
Not a thought about dying your conscience annoyed.
At the Judgment, when Paradise' Market proceeds,
They will stations assign in accordance with deeds.
As much stock as you bring you will bear from this place,
And if you have naught you will carry disgrace.

For the better the market is stocked, you will see

That the heart of the pauper more wretched will be.
If two score and ten dírems by five are reduced,

A wound in your heart by Grief's nails is produced.

When two score and ten years shall have over you passed,
Consider a boon the "five days" that still last!

If a tongue had been left to the poor, helpless dead,
Lamenting and weeping he thus would have said:
"Oh living! since power of speech in you shows,
Like the dead on God's mention your lips do not close!
Since our opportunity passed in neglect,

You should look upon this as your time to reflect !"

Story

(OF THE OLD MAN REGRETTING THE TIME OF HIS YOUTH).

In the time of our youth and in pleasant delight,
A few of us gathered together one night;

Like nightingales singing, fresh-faced, like the rose ;
Our boisterous mirth broke the street's still repose.
An experienced old man sat aloof from our play;
From the sky's change, the night of his hair was bright
day.

Like a filbert, his tongue from discoursing was tied;
Not like us with our lips smiling, pista-like, wide.
A youth who approached him said, "Vet'ran, explain !
In the nook of repentance why sit you, in pain?
For once, raise your head from the collar of woe!
And with youths, in composure of heart, gaily go
From retirement, the man of old age raised his head;
Observe his reply! how old man like, he said:
"Should the cool morning breeze through the rose-garden
blow,

It becomes the young bushes to wave to and fro.
The corn waves majestic while growing and green ;
It will break when a yellow appearance is seen.

In the Spring when the wind wafts the musk-willow smell,
The trees that are young shed their dry leaves, as well.
It does not become me with youth to keep pace,
For the breeze of old age has blown over my face.
The famous male falcon, once under my pow'r,
Now severs the end of the cord, ev'ry hour.

It is your turn to sit at the tray piled with fare,

For our hands we have washed, after eating our share.

When on your head has settled the dust of old age,
Do not hope you'll again in youth's pleasures engage !
The snow has come down on my raven's dark wing;
Garden sporting, like Bulbuls, is not now the thing.
The peacock has beauty and proudly may walk;
What can you expect from a broken-wing'd hawk ?
My grain has been reaped and collected to thresh ;
Your verdure is growing up still, soft and fresh.
My rose garden's freshness has all disappeared;

Who would fashion a nose-gay from flow'rs that are seared?
Oh soul of your father! a staff is my stay;

To rely more on self would be out of the way!
It is safe for a stripling to spring to his feet,

But the aged, the help of their hands must entreat.
The rose of my face, see! like yellow gold shines;
When the sun becomes yellow it quickly declines.
The nursing of lust by an ignorant youth,

Is less wicked than by an old lecher, forsooth!

It behoves me to weep, out of shame, for each crime,
Like a child, but not, child-like, to idle my time.
Lukman said correctly, 'Much better be dead,
Than let years of transgressing pass over your head!'
Better close the shop-door, from the dawning of day,
Than to cast both the stock and the profit away!
Before the young man bears his darkness to light,
The poor agèd man bears his sin out of sight."

1 A play on the word Siaki, which means sin and blackness or darkness.