CHAPTER VIII. ON THANKS. سر آغاز باب هشتم در شکر بر عافیت

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

I cannot find words to give thanks to the Friend!
For to suitably thank Him, I do not pretend.
Ev’ry hair on my body’s a gift from Him, free;
How can I give thanks for each hair that may be?
نفس مینیارم زد از شکر دوست
که شکری ندانم که در خورد اوست
عطائی است هر موی از او بر تنم
چگونه به هر موی شکری کنم؟
All praise to the bountiful Maker, I sing!
Who caused, out of nothing, His servant to spring!
Who with power to praise His great kindness is graced?
For His praises are all in His splendour embraced!
ستایش خداوند بخشنده را
که موجود کرد از عدم بنده را
که را قوت وصف احسان اوست؟
که اوصاف مستغرق شأن اوست
The Creator who fashioned from clay all mankind,
Gives spirit and wisdom and reason and mind;
From the loins of your father as far as the grave,
See what presents He from the Unseen to you gave!
بدیعی که شخص آفریند ز گل
روان و خرد بخشد و هوش و دل
ز پشت پدر تا به پایان شیب
نگر تا چه تشریف دادت ز غیب
Since clean He created you, wise and pure stay!
For a shame it would be to return foul to clay!
Incessantly wipe from a mirror the dust;
For it takes not a polish when eaten by rust!
چو پاک آفریدت بهش باش و پاک
که ننگ است ناپاک رفتن به خاک
پیاپی بیفشان از آیینه گرد
که مصقل نگیرد چو زنگار خورد
Were you not liquid semen when first you began?
From your head cast conceit if you claim to be man!
When you earn by your labour your daily supply,
On the strength of your arm do not, therefore, rely!
نه در ابتدا بودی آب منی؟
اگر مردی از سر بدر کن منی
چو روزی به سعی آوری سوی خویش
مکن تکیه بر زور بازوی خویش
means the seminal fluid and egotism, conceit, etc.
The Lord, oh self-server! why do you not see?
Who can bring into motion your hand, except He?
When good by your energy comes into view,
To the favour of God, not your efforts, ’tis due.
چرا حق نمیبینی ای خودپرست
که بازو بگردش درآورد و دست؟
چو آید به کوشیدنت خیر پیش
به توفیق حق دان نه از سعی خویش
No person has carried the ball off by force;
Give thanks unto God! of all favour the source.
On foot, you are pow’rless to stand up alone;
Invisible aid ev’ry moment is shown.
Was your tongue not from speaking in infancy tied?
Through the navel your inside with .food was supplied; 
تو قائم به خود نیستی یک قدم
ز غیبت مدد میرسد دم به دم
نه طفل زبان بسته بودی ز لاف؟
همی روزی آمد به جوفش ز ناف
When they stopped the supply and divided the string,
To the breast of the mother your hand had to cling.
To a stranger afflicted with sickness by time,
They give water to cure from his own native clime.
چو نافش بریدند روزی گسست
به پستان مادر در آویخت دست
غریبی که رنج آردش دهر پیش
بدار و دهند آبش از شهر خویش
Hence the babe in the belly got nourishment good,
And obtained, through the tube of the stomach, his food.
The mother’s two breasts which to-day he adores,
Are likewise two fountains from God’s endless stores.
پس او در شکم پرورش یافتهست
ز انبوب معده خورش یافتهست
دو پستان که امروز دلخواه اوست
دو چشمه هم از پرورشگاه اوست
A Heav’n are a good mother’s bosom and lap;
In the bosom a . fountain of milk is the pap.
Her life-rearing stature resembles a tree.
And the son a choice fruit on her breast, you can see.
کنار و بر مادر دلپذیر
بهشتست و پستان در او جوی شیر
درختی است بلای جان پرورش
ولد میوه نازنین بر برش
Do the veins of the nipples not reach to the heart?
Of the heart’s blood, observe how the milk is a part!
His teeth in her blood, like a lancet, he sunk;
Him, the Lord made her love, who her life’s blood had drunk.
نه رگهای پستان درون دل است؟
پس ار بنگری شیر خون دل است
به خونش فرو برده دندان چو نیش
سرشته در او مهر خونخوار خویش
When his arm becomes strong and his teeth stout appear,
On her nipples the nurse bitter aloes must smear.
To this aloes and milk he is so disinclined,
That desire for the sweet nipple fades from his mind.
چو بازو قوی کرد و دندان ستبر
بر اندایدش دایه پستان به صبر
چنان صبرش از شیر خامش کند
که پستان شیرین فرامش کند
Oh you, too, a penitent child of the way!
By Patience your sins in oblivion you lay.
تو نیز ای که در توبهای طفل راه
به صبرت فراموش گردد گناه


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