On the Ill-natured Remarks of Worldly People گفتار اندر سلامت گوشه نشینی و صبر بر ایذاء خلق

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

If on Earth to escape from the world one’s allowed,
It is he who has fastened his door on the crowd.
From the tyrannous hand of the times, none is free,
Whether boaster or servant of God he may be.
اگر در جهان از جهان رستهای است،
در از خلق بر خویشتن بستهای است
کس از دست جور زبانها نرست
اگر خودنمای است و گر حق پرست
If you come from the sky, like an angel, on wings,
To the skirt of your garment your enemy clings.
You can stem by exertion the Tigris’ swift flow,
But you cannot make silent the tongue of a foe.
اگر بر پری چون ملک ز آسمان
به دامن در آویزدت بد گمان
به کوشش توان دجله را پیش بست
نشاید زبان بداندیش بست
Vile profligates seated together declare:
“This devotion is dry, that a bread-getting snare! “
From God’s holy worship avert not your face!
Let the people alone ! lest they count you as base.
فراهم نشینند تردامنان
که این زهد خشک است و آن دام نان
تو روی از پرستیدن حق مپیچ
بهل تا نگیرند خلقت به هیچ
When the pure holy God with His servant is pleased,
What matter though men should remain unappeased?
No knowledge of God has the people’s vile foe;
From the din of the world he God’s path cannot know.
چو راضی شد از بنده یزدان پاک
گر اینها نگردند راضی چه باک؟
بد اندیش خلق از حق آگاه نیست
ز غوغای خلقش به حق راه نیست
For this reason those reached not the goal they essayed,
That the first step they travelled, a false step they made!
To the words of the Prophet two persons give ear;
They as diff rent as angels from devils appear;
ازان ره به جایی نیاوردهاند
که اول قدم پی غلط کردهاند
دو کس بر حدیثی گمارند گوش
از این تا بدان، ز اهرمن تا سروش
One accepts the advice and the other declines;
He heeds not the text, from decrying the lines.
Dejected and in a dark corner shut up,
What can he obtain from the world-seeing cup?
یکی پند گیرد دگر ناپسند
نپردازد از حرف گیری به پند
فرومانده در کنج تاریک جای
چه دریابد از جام گیتی نمای؟
And were you a tiger or fox, don’t suppose,
That by courage or tricks you’d escape from these foes!
If a person the nook of retirement should choose —
Because with small favour he company views —
مپندار اگر شیر و گر روبهی
کز اینان به مردی و حلیت رهی
اگر کنج خلوت گزیند کسی
که پروای صحبت ندارد بسی
They defame him and call it mere canting and lies;
That from people, as if from the Devil, he flies.
And if he be friendly and jovial-faced,
They do not consider him template and chaste.
مذمت کنندش که زرق است و ریو
ز مردم چنان می گریزد که دیو
وگر خنده روی است و آمیزگار
عفیفش ندانند و پرهیزگار
The skin of the rich they by backbiting flay;
If a Pharaoh’s on Earth, “This is he! ” they will say.
If an indigent man is in poverty stuck,
They say it’s from sinning and badness of luck.
غنی را به غیبت بکاوند پوست
که فرعون اگر هست در عالم اوست
وگر بینوایی بگرید به سوز
نگون بخت خوانندش و تیرهروز
If a prosperous man tumbles down from his place,
A boon they account it and God’s proving grace :
“By this grandeur how long will he stretch his neck out?
After pleasure, the torture of pain comes, no doubt! “
وگر کامرانی در آید ز پای
غنیمت شمارند و فضل خدای
که تا چند از این جاه و گردن کشی؟
خوشی را بود در قفا ناخوشی
And should a distressed one, without stock in hand,
Be raised up by Fortune to wealth and command,
Their poisonous teeth they snap at him from rage,
Saying, “Cherish but wretches does this sordid age! “
و گر تنگدستی تنک مایهای
سعادت بلندش کند پایهای
بخایندش از کینه دندان به زهر
که دون پرورست این فرومایه دهر
When they see that affairs in your hands are all right,
You are greedy and worship the world, in their sight
If from active employment your hand you withhold,
They call you a beggar and parasite bold.
چو بینند کاری به دستت درست
حریصت شمارند و دنیا پرست
وگر دست همت بداری ز کار
گدا پیشه خوانندت و پخته خوار
If you talk, you’re a drum, full of whimsical din;
And if mute, you’re to portraits on bath walls akin.
They don’t call him a man who some patience displays;
Saying, “Wretched ! from terror his head he can’t raise! “
اگر ناطقی طبل پر یاوهای
وگر خامشی نقش گرماوهای
تحمل کنان را نخوانند مرد
که بیچاره از بیم سر برنکرد
If manliness’ awe in his head should appear,
They fly from him, saying, “What madness is here? “
If he sparingly eats, they malign him, and say:
“His income, perhaps, is another man’s pay.”
وگر در سرش هول و مردانگی است
گریزند از او کاین چه دیوانگی است؟!
تعنت کنندش گر اندک خوری است
که مالش مگر روزی دیگری است
And if he has good and luxurious fare,
They say he’s a glutton, whose body’s his care!
If a man who is rich does not cultivate style —
Self-adornment in men of discretion is vile —
وگر نغز و پاکیزه باشد خورش
شکم بنده خوانند و تن پرورش
وگر بی تکلف زید مالدار
که زینت بر اهل تمیزست عار
With their tongues, like a sword, to his damage, they whack,
Saying, “Luckless! his gold from himself he keeps back.”
And should he adorn his apartments and halls,
And wrap himself up in magnificent shawls,
زبان در نهندش به ایذا چو تیغ
که بدبخت زر دارد از خود دریغ
و گر کاخ و ایوان منقش کند
تن خویش را کسوتی خوش کند
He is worried to death, on account of their taunts,
Saying, “Decked in the raiment of women he flaunts! “
If a pious man has not a journey essayed,
Those say, “He’s no man! “who have pilgrimage made.
به جان آید از طعنه بر وی زنان
که خود را بیاراست همچون زنان
اگر پارسایی سیاحت نکرد
سفر کردگانش نخوانند مرد
“He has never,” they say, “left his sweetheart’s embrace;
Where for merit and wisdom and skill has he place? “
They tear the man’s skin who has many climes seen,
Saying, “Wretched and luckless this person has been!
که نارفته بیرون ز آغوش زن
کدامش هنر باشد و رای و فن؟
جهاندیده را هم بدرند پوست
که سرگشته بخت برگشته اوست
Had his lines in prosperity’s shadow been cast,
Him, from city to city, the Fates had not passed! “
The caviller slanders the bachelor swain,
Saying, “Earth at his sleeping and waking’s in pain.”
گرش حظ از اقبال بودی و بهر
زمانه نراندی ز شهرش به شهر
غرب را نکوهش کند خرده بین
که میرنجد از خفت و خیزش زمین
If he marry, he says, “From the heart’s strong desire,
He headlong falls down, like an ass, in the mire.”
The ugly from tyrannous man cannot go,
Nor the fair from the cowardly, filthy-tongued foe.
وگر زن کند گوید از دست دل
به گردن در افتاد چون خر به گل
نه از جور مردم رهد زشت روی
نه شاهد ز نامردم زشت گوی
In Egypt a little slave boy I possessed,
Whose eyes, out of shame, were cast down on his breast.
Some one said, “Void of wisdom and sense he appears,
You should give him instruction, by boxing his ears! “
In accents severe, I one night at him cried;
The poor fellow, killed by my harshness, replied:
“If anger should cast you from station, one day!
You are crazed and demented, the people will say.
And if from a person oppression you bear,
A high sense of honour you lack, they’ll declare.”
گرت برکند خشم روزی ز جای
سراسیمه خوانندت و تیره رای
وگر برد باری کنی از کسی
بگویند غیرت ندارد بسی
They, advising a liberal man, say, “Give o’er!
Or, to-morrow, you’ll stretch out your hands, hind and fore.”
If content and denying of self you have grown,
‘Midst the taunts of the people, a captive you’re thrown.
سخی را به اندرز گویند بس
که فردا دو دستت بود پیش و پس
وگر قانع و خویشتندار گشت
به تشنیع خلقی گرفتار گشت
For they’ll say, ” Like his father, the wretch will depart;
He abandoned the world and regret filled his heart.”
In the corner of peace, who is able to sit,
Since the prophet from villainous hands had to flit?
که همچون پدر خواهد این سفله مرد
که نعمت رها کرد و حسرت ببرد
که یارد به کنج سلامت نشست؟
که پیغمبر از خبث ایشان نرست
Have you heard what the Christian believer did state
To God — without equal and partner and mate?
“From the hands of his fellows, no man gets away,
And patience alone is the prisoner’s stay.”
خدا را که مانند و انباز و جفت
ندارد، شنیدی که ترسا چه گفت؟
رهایی نیابد کس از دست کس
گرفتار را چاره صبرست و بس

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