Story of hajaj  and the righteous man حکایت حجاج یوسف

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

Of one of the God-fearing people, they say
That he did not respect to Hajaj- Yusuf ‘pay.
He gave the court headsman a look of command,
Saying, “Spread out his leather and sprinkle his sand!”
  حکایت کنند از یکی نیکمرد
که اکرام حجاج یوسف نکرد
به سرهنگ دیوان نگه کرد تیز
که نطعش بینداز و خونش بریز
When argument fails the tyrannical wight,
He draws up his face into wrinkles, for fight.
The godly man smiled, and then wept bitter tears ;
The hard-hearted dullard astonished appears.
چو حجت نماند جفا جوی را
بپرخاش در هم کشد روی را
بخندید و بگریست مرد خدای
عجب داشت سنگین دل تیره رای
When Hajaj saw him smile and again saw him cry,
He asked, “Why these smiles and these tears in your eye?”
He replied, “I am weeping, for Fate’s at my door,
And of helpless young children, I’m bringing up four.  
چو دیدش که خندید و دیگر گریست
بپرسید کاین خنده و گریه چیست؟
بگفتا همی‌گریم از روزگار
که طفلان بیچاره دارم چهار 
I smile, that by favour of God, the most pure,
I die the oppressed, not the heartless pursuer.”
Some one said, “Oh illustrious king of the land,
Beware ! and withdraw from this peasant your hand !
همی‌خندم از لطف یزدان پاک
که مظلوم رفتم نه ظالم به خاک
پسر گفتش: ای نامور شهریار
یکی دست از این مرد صوفی بدار
For a fam’ly in him have their succour and stay ;
It is wrong that a tribe, all at once, you should slay.
Magnanimity, pardon, and kindness pursue !
Keep the innocent age of his children in view !  
که خلقی بدو روی دارند و پشت
نه رای است خلقی به یک بار کشت
بزرگی و عفو و کرم پیشه کن
ز خردان اطفالش اندیشه کن
Perhaps you’ve become your own family’s foe,
Since, when harm comes to families, pleasure you show !
Do not think that with hearts sorely scorched by your brand,
When the ‘ last day ‘ arrives you will justified stand!
 
I have heard that he list not and caused him to die;
From the orders of God, who can know how to fly?  
شنیدم که نشنید و خونش بریخت
ز فرمان داور که داند گریخت؟
At night, a wise man in that thought went to bed,
And saw in a dream the poor martyr, who said: —
“His torture of me, in a moment was passed;
But torture on him, till the ‘Judgment’ will last”  
بزرگی در آن فکرت آن شب بخفت
به خواب اندرش دید و پرسید و گفت:
دمی بیش بر من سیاست نراند
عقوبت بر او تا قیامت بماند
You fear not lest one of the holy, one night,
From his hot, burning liver should cry, ‘Lord, requite!
نترسی که پاک اندرونی شبی
برآرد ز سوز جگر یا ربی؟
The oppressed has not slept; of his sobs have a care!
Of the sighs of his heart in the morning, beware!
نخفته‌ست مظلوم از آهش بترس
ز دود دل صبحگاهش بترس
In passion he flourished his hands on him, so,
That the arguing hand of Hajaj was bound low.
Did not Satan do ill and no good on him smiled?
Pure fruit will not spring from a seed that’s defiled.
نه ابلیس بد کرد و نیکی ندید؟
بر پاک ناید ز تخم پلید
In the season of war, tear not any one’s screen!
For to you may belong some dishonour, unseen.
Against tiger-like men do not enter the lists,
When you cannot prevail over boys with your fists!
مزن بانگ بر شیرمردان درشت
چو با کودکان بر نیایی به مشت

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