Story OF A HARD-UP PUGILIST حکایت زورآزمای تنگدست

Story OF A HARD-UP PUGILIST حکایت زورآزمای تنگدست

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

A pugilist’s means of support were not good
For supper or breakfast no suitable food:
From his stomach’s demands, he bore clay on his back,
For his fists could not find him in rations, alack!
  یکی مشت زن بخت روزی نداشت
نه اسباب شامش مهیا نه چاشت
ز جور شکم گل کشیدی به پشت
که روزی محال است خوردن به مشت
He had ever, because of his sorrowful plight,
A load on his heart, on his body a blight.
At one time, he warred with the world’s wicked power ;
At another, harsh Fate caused his face to look sour.  
  مدام از پریشانی روزگار
دلش پر ز حسرت، تنش سوکوار
گهش جنگ با عالم خیره‌کش
گه از بخت شوریده، رویش ترش
From observing, again, the sweet pleasure of all,
The large, bitter tears down his gullet would fall.
Again at his wretched affairs he would cry —
” Has any one seen such a live wretch as I ?  
  گه از دیدن عیش شیرین خلق
فرو می‌شدی آب تلخش به حلق
گه از کار آشفته بگریستی
که کس دید از این تلخ‌تر زیستی؟
On honey and chickens and kids, some are fed ;
Not a pot-herb is seen on the face of my bread.
If you ask about justice, it must be a slur,
That, whereas I am naked, a cat has its fur.  
  کسان شهد نوشند و مرغ و بره
مرا روی نان می‌نبیند تره
گر انصاف پرسی نه نیکوست این
برهنه من و گربه را پوستین
Alas ! if the Sky had such sympathy shown,
As into my keeping some wealth to have thrown ;
For a time, I would, likely, have revelled in lust,
And brushed from my body Adversity’s dust”  
  چه بودی که پایم در این کار گل
به گنجی فرو رفتی از کام دل!
مگر روزگاری هوس راندمی
ز خود گرد محنت بیفشاندمی
I have heard that one day he was digging the ground,
When a lower jaw-bone, that was rotten, he found.
The links of the chain were divided, throughout,
And the fine pearly teeth were all scattered about.  
  شنیدم که روزی زمین می‌شکافت
عظام زنخدان پوسیده یافت
به خاک اندرش عقد بگسیخته
گهرهای دندان فرو ریخته
The mouth, without tongue, truth and secrets thus spoke :
” Oh sir! you must bear Disappointment’s sad stroke !
Is this not the state of the mouth under mud ?
It may have eat sugar or drunk its heart’s blood.
دهان بی زبان پند می‌گفت و راز
که ای خواجه با بینوایی بساز
نه این است حال دهن زیر گل!
شکر خورده انگار یا خون دل
On account of the changes of Time, do not grieve !
For Time oft will change and not say, By your leave
The moment his conscience this meaning divined,
Grief carried her baggage away from his mind.
غم از گردش روزگاران مدار
که بی ما بگردد بسی روزگار
همان لحظه کاین خاطرش روی داد
غم از خاطرش رخت یک سو نهاد
” Oh spirit,” he said, “void of wisdom and will,
Endure sorrow’s load, but yourself do not kill !”
If a slave has a load on his head to support,
Or his head at the top of the sky he should sport,
که ای نفس بی رای و تدبیر و هش
بکش بار تیمار و خود را مکش
اگر بنده‌ای بار بر سر برد
وگر سر به اوج فلک بر برد
At the moment his state becomes altered by death,
Both conditions will go from his head, at a breath.
Grief and gladness are fleeting, and yet it is sure
That good names, and the meed of all actions endure
در آن دم که حالش دگرگون شود
به مرگ از سرش هر دو بیرون شود
غم و شادمانی نماند ولیک
جزای عمل ماند و نام نیک
Beneficence lasts, not the crown and the throne ;
Oh lucky one, give! for this lasts when you’re gone.
Put your trust not in kingdom nor troops and display !
For before you they were and behind you will stay.  
  کرم پای دارد، نه دیهیم و تخت
بده کز تو این ماند ای نیکبخت
مکن تکیه بر ملک و جاه و حشم
که پیش از تو بوده‌ست و بعد از تو هم
خداوند دولت غم دین خورد
که دنیا به هر حال می‌بگذرد
نخواهی که ملکت برآید بهم
غم ملک و دین خورد باید بهم
Scatter gold! since the world you will have to forego ;
For Sadi strewed pearls, if no gold he could strew.  
  زرافشان، چو دنیا بخواهی گذاشت
که سعدی درافشاند اگر زر نداشت

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