Story OF A BOLD SOLDIER حکایت سرباز جنگاور

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

In great Isphahan, a companion had!,
Who was warlike and bold and uncommonly sly.
His hand and his sword were with blood always dyed;
Like flesh on the fire, hearts of foes through him fried.
مرا در سپاهان یکی یار بود
که جنگاور و شوخ و عیار بود
مدامش به خون دست و خنجر خضاب
بر آتش دل خصم از او چون کباب
Not a day did I see him with quiver unlashed;
From his steel arrow-heads ev’ry day the fire flashed.
He was brave, and his strength was exceedingly great;
From dread of him, tigers were restless in state.
ندیدمش روزی که ترکش نبست
ز پولاد پیکانش آتش نجست
دلاور به سرپنجه گاوزور
ز هولش به شیران در افتاده شور
Such reliance in shooting his shafts he would show,
That he failed not to smite with each arrow a foe.
I have not seen a thorn pierce a flower so quick,
As the heads of his arrows pierced shields that were thick.
به دعوی چنان ناوک انداختی
که عذرا به هر یک دو انداختی
چنان خار در گل ندیدم که رفت
که پیکان او در سپرهای جفت
He smote not an enemy’s head with his spear,
That he did not cause helmet and head to adhere.
In battle, like sparrows ‘mong locusts in flight;
Men and sparrows, for slaughter, were one in his sight
نزد تارک جنگجویی به خشت
که خود و سرش را نه در هم سرشت
چو گنجشک روز ملخ در نبرد
به کشتن چه گنجشک پیشش چه مرد
If upon Faridun an attack he had made,
No time he’d have left him to flourish his blade.
By the strength of his fingers were leopards subdued;
He his nails in the brains of fierce tigers imbrued.
گرش بر فریدون بدی تاختن
امانش ندادی به تیغ آختن
پلنگانش از زور سرپنجه زیر
فرو برده چنگال در مغز شیر
He would seize by the girdle one used to the fray,
And were he a mountain, would dash him away.
On a man clad in mail when his battle-axe fell,
He passed through the man and smote saddle as well.
گرفتی کمربند جنگ آزمای
وگر کوه بودی بکندی ز جای
زره پوش را چون تبرزین زدی
گذر کردی از مرد و بر زین زدی
In valour and generous qualities shown,
His equal on earth, no one ever had known.
For a moment he let me not out of his sight,
For with men of good nature he gathered delight.
نه در مردی او را نه در مردمی
دوم در جهان کس شنید آدمی
مرا یک دم از دست نگذاشتی
که با راست طبعان سری داشتی
From that country a journey soon called me away,
For it had not been fated that there I should stay.
From Irak into Sham I was carried by Fate;
In that sanctified land I was happy in state.
سفر ناگهم زان زمین در ربود
که بیشم در آن بقعه روزی نبود
قضا نقل کرد از عراقم به شام
خوش آمد در آن خاک پاکم مقام
مع القصه چندی ببودم مقیم
به رنج و به راحت، به امید و بیم
In Sham, then, I finished my measure of toil,
And a longing I felt for my own native soil.
By chance, it occurred that while journeying back,
I again had to pass through the land of Irak.
دگر پر شد از شام پیمانه‌ام
کشید آرزومندی خانه‌ام
قضا را چنان اتفاق اوفتاد
که بازم گذر بر عراق اوفتاد
One night, with my head hanging down in deep thought,
To my mind was that skilful one’s memory brought.
The salt of remembrance renewed my old sore,
For oft had I eaten his salt, long before.
شبی سر فرو شد به اندیشه‌ام
به دل برگذشت آن هنر پیشه‌ام
نمک ریش دیرینه‌ام تازه کرد
که بودم نمک خورده از دست مرد
To great Isphahan to behold him I went;
Out of friendship, on searching and asking intent.
I saw that Time’s changes had made the youth old;
His straight figure bent and his red hue, like gold;
به دیدار وی در سپاهان شدم
به مهرش طلبکار و خواهان شدم
جوان دیدم از گردش دهر، پیر
خدنگش کمان، ارغوانش زریر
His snowy-haired head like a white-crested hill;
From the snow of old age down his face the tears rill.
The sky having mastery over him found,
Soon twisted the hand of his manliness round.
چو کوه سپیدش سر از برف موی
دوان آبش از برف پیری به روی
فلک دست قوت بر او یافته
سر دست مردیش بر تافته
The world from his head having ostracised pride,
Infirmity’s head, on his knees must abide.
I exclaimed, “ Oh great chief! who with lions engaged,
What has polished you down like a fox that is aged?”
بدر کرده گیتی غرور از سرش
سر ناتوانی به زانو برش
بدو گفتم ای سرور شیر گیر
چه فرسوده کردت چو روباه پیر؟
“Since the Tartar invasion,” he smilingly said,
” I have driven strife-seeking away from my head.
The ground filled with spears, like a cane-break, I watched,
With their banners of scarlet, like fire-brands attached.
بخندید کز روز جنگ تتر
بدر کردم آن جنگجویی ز سر
زمین دیدم از نیزه چو نیستان
گرفته علمها چو آتش در آن
Like smoke, I excited the dust-clouds of war;
But what Vantage gives bravery when Fortune’s afar?
I am he, who, whenever an onset I made,
A ring from the palm with my spear I conveyed.
بر انگیختم گرد هیجا چو دود
چو دولت نباشد تهور چه سود؟
من آنم که چون حمله آوردمی
به رمح از کف انگشتری بردمی
But because in my ‘ star ‘ no assistance I found,
Like a ring, they immediately circled me round!
The path of retreat I esteemed as a friend;
For the foolish alone will with Fortune contend.
ولی چون نکرد اخترم یاوری
گرفتند گردم چو انگشتری
غنیمت شمردم طریق گریز
که نادان کند با قضا پنجه تیز
What succour do helmet and armour bestow,
When my planet refuses assistance to show?
When you hold not possession of Victory’s key,
Conquest’s door by your arm cannot broken up be.
چه یاری کند مغفر و جوشنم
چو یاری نکرد اختر روشنم؟
کلید ظفر چون نباشد به دست
به بازو در فتح نتوان شکست
A host came, leopard-felling, of elephant might;
Iron-clad the horse-hoofs and the head of each wight.
As soon as the dust of this army we spied,
To put on our armour and helmets we hied. 
گروهی پلنگ افگن پیل زور
در آهن سر مرد و سم ستور
همان دم که دیدیم گرد سپاه
زره جامه کردیم و مغفر کلاه
Like clouds, we urged forward our Arabs, amain,
And brought our swords down, like a torrent of rain.
Both armies together from ambushment crashed;
You’d have said that the sky on the earth they had dashed.
چو ابر اسب تازی برانگیختیم
چو باران بلالک فرو ریختیم
دو لشکر به هم بر زدند از کمین
تو گفتی زدند آسمان بر زمین
From the raining of arrows, like hail, ‘mong the foes,
The whirlwind of death, in each corner arose.
In hunting the lions accustomed to war,
The mouth of the dragon like noose was ajar.
ز باریدن تیر همچو تگرگ
به هر گوشه برخاست طوفان مرگ
به صید هزبران پرخاش ساز
کمند اژدهای دهن کرده باز
زمین آسمان شد ز گرد کبود
چو انجم در او برق شمشیر و خود
As soon as the enemy’s horse came in sight,
With our shields knit together, dismounted we fight
سواران دشمن چو دریافتیم
پیاده سپر در سپر بافتیم
به تیر و سنان موی بشکافتیم
چو دولت نبد روی بر تافتیم
What strength can the hand of man’s labouring show,
If the arm of God’s grace does not succour bestow?
Not blunt were the swords of these brave men of war;
But fierce was the spite of their rancorous star.
چه زور آورد پنجه جهد مرد
چو بازوی توفیق یاری نکرد؟
نه شمشیر کنداوران کند بود
که کین آوری ز اختر تند بود
Not a man of our army came out from the fray,
With doublet unmoistened with blood, on that day.
کس از لشکر ما ز هیجا برون
نیامد جز آغشته خفتان به خون
Like a hundred grains, joined in one cluster, we start;
We were scattered, each grain in a corner apart
چو صد دانه مجموع در خوشه‌ای
فتادیم هر دانه‌ای گوشه‌ای
We through cowardice further resistance forsook;
Like the fish clothed in mail which succumbs to the hook.
به نامردی از هم بدادیم دست
چو ماهی که با جوشن افتد به شست
The shafts of those men into silk did not go,
Who, I’ve said, with their arrows an anvil could sew.
کسان را نشد ناوک اندر حریر
که گفتم بدوزند سندان به تیر
When Fortune averted her face from our field,
‘Gainst the arrows of Fate, of what use was a shield? “
چو طالع ز ما روی بر پیچ بود
سپر پیش تیر قضا هیچ بود
از این بوالعجب‌تر حدیثی شنو
که بی بخت کوشش نیرزد دو جو

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