Story OF. AN EGYPTIAN KING در تغیر روزگار و انتقال مملکت

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

I have heard that in Egypt a king who was great,
Was attacked in his prime by the army of Fate.
In his cheek, heart-illuming, the beauty decayed;
Pale as bread he became, and then Fate he obeyed.
  شنیدم که در مصر میری اجل
سپه تاخت بر روزگارش اجل
جمالش برفت از رخ دل فروز
چو خور زرد شد بس نماند ز روز
Philosophers learned bit the hand of Regret,
For in Physic, no medicine for death could they get.
Ev’ry kingdom and throne must submit to decay,
Save the kingdom of God, which will not pass away.  
  گزیدند فرزانگان دست فوت
که در طب ندیدند داروی موت
همه تخت و ملکی پذیرد زوال
بجز ملک فرمانده لایزال
When the day of his life was approaching to night,
They heard, as he spoke in a voice very slight: —
“There has not been in Egypt a monarch like me;
Since the upshot is this, it was nothing, you see.  
  چو نزدیک شد روز عمرش به شب
شنیدند می‌گفت در زیر لب
که در مصر چون من عزیزی نبود
چو حاصل همین بود چیزی نبود
I conquered the world, but no fruit did I find:
I go, like a pauper, and leave it behind! ”
One of praiseworthy wisdom, who gave and enjoyed,
The world, for the sake of himself, has employed.  
  جهان گرد کردم نخوردم برش
برفتم چو بیچارگان از سرش
پسندیده رایی که بخشید و خورد
جهان از پی خویشتن گرد کرد
Strive for that which will always beside you appear!
For all that is left you, is sorrow and fear.
The Magnate, reclined on the life-melting bed,
Shows one hand contracted, the other outspread;  
  در این کوش تا با تو ماند مقیم
که هرچ از تو ماند دریغ است و بیم
کند خواجه بر بستر جان‌گداز
یکی دست کوتاه و دیگر دراز
When his tongue was by terror from speaking confined,
The meaning he then with his hands to you signed: —
“One hand in bestowing and kindness make long!
And the other contract, in oppression and wrong! ”  
  در آن دم تو را می‌نماید به دست
که دهشت زبانش ز گفتن ببست
که دستی به جود و کرم کن دراز
دگر دست کوته کن از ظلم و آز
Now that you have a hand, others’ sorrow delete!
For when will your hand leave the white winding sheet?
The Sun, Moon and Pleiades long will illume,
Ere. you raise up your head from its prop in the tomb.  
  کنونت که دست است خاری بکن
دگر کی برآری تو دست از کفن؟
بتابد بسی ماه و پروین و هور
که سر بر نداری ز بالین گور


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