CHAPTER V. ON RESIGNATION سر آغاز باب پنجم در رضا

CHAPTER V. ON RESIGNATION سر آغاز باب پنجم در رضا

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

I was burning the oil of reflection one night,
And Rhetoric’s lamp I had kindled up bright.
To my sayings a frivolous talker gave ear;
Save expressing approval, no way he saw clear.
شبی زیت فکرت همی سوختم
چراغ بلاغت می افروختم
پراگنده گویی حدیثم شنید
جز احسنت گفتن طریقی ندید
From a word, too, detracting, he could not refrain,
For groaning unconsciously rises from pain:
“His thoughts are mature and his judgment is nice,
On the topics of piety, mystics, advice;
هم از خبث نوعی در آن درج کرد
که ناچار فریاد خیزد ز درد
که فکرش بلیغ است و رایش بلند
در این شیوه زهد و طامات و پند
Not on spears, iron maces, and truncheons of weight,
For these are fit subjects for others to state.”
He knows not that I have no liking for fight,
Else to speak on these matters my pow’r is not slight.
نه در خشت و کوپال و گرز گران
که آن شیوه ختم است بر دیگران
نداند که ما را سر جنگ نیست
وگر نه مجال سخن تنگ نیست
The sword of the tongue I can draw from its case,
And a world of grandiloquence quickly efface.
Come, let us this topic of war undertake!
For the head of the foe a stone-pillow make.
Felicity dwells in God’s favour alone;
In war and the arm of the strong, it’s unknown.
بیا تا در این شیوه چالش کنیم
سر خصم را سنگ، بالش کنیم
سعادت به بخشایش داورست
نه در چنگ و بازوی زور آورست
If the high sphere of Heav’n give not wealth, be aware
That it will not by manliness come to your snare
The ant although weak does not hardship sustain;
By their pow’rfulness, lions their food do not gain.
چو دولت نبخشد سپهر بلند
نیاید به مردانگی در کمند
نه سختی رسید از ضعیفی به مور
نه شیران به سرپنجه خوردند و زور
Since the hand is unable to reach to the skies,
One is bound to submit to the changes that rise.
If Fate has inscribed that your life will be long,
The snake, sword and tiger can do you no wrong.
چو نتوان بر افلاک دست آختن
ضروری است با گردشش ساختن
گرت زندگانی نبشتهست دیر
نه مارت گزاید نه شمشیر و شیر
And if of your life not a part should remain,
The antidote kills you, the same as the bane.
When Rustam his last daily morsel had gnawed,
Was dust from his body not brought by Shighddl
وگر در حیاتت نماندهست بهر
چنانت کشد نوشدارو که زهر
نه رستم چو پایان روزی بخورد
شغاد از نهادش برآورد گرد؟


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