Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی
have heard the narrators of history tell, That when Jesus was living (may peace on Him dwell), A person had wasted his life in vile ways, And in folly and error had squandered his days. | شنیدستم که از راویان کلام که در عهد عیسی علیهالسلام یکی زندگانی تلف کرده بود به جهل و ضلالت سر آورده بود |
He was froward and sinful, for heartlessness famed: At his vileness, the Devil himself was ashamed! He had brought, without profit, his days to a close; As long as he lived, not a soul had repose. | دلیری سیه نامهای سخت دل ز ناپاکی ابلیس در وی خجل بسر برده ایام، بی حاصلی نیاسوده تا بوده از وی دلی |
His head, void of wisdom, was full of conceit, And his stomach was stuffed with prohibited meat His skirt was polluted by practices vile, And his household was crusted with deeds that defile. | سرش خالی از عقل و پر ز احتشام شکم فربه از لقمههای حرام به ناراستی دامن آلودهای به ناداشتی دوده اندودهای |
Not a footing had he, like beholders upright; Not an ear, like the men who hear truths with delight. As from famine, the people away from him fly; All pointing, as at the new moon in the sky. | به پایی چو بینندگان راست رو نه گوشی چو مردم نصیحت شنو چو سال بد از وی خلایق نفور نمایان به هم چون مه نو ز دور |
Foul lust had so set all his harvest on fire, That a grain of good name he had failed to acquire. He was vile, and so freely had pleasure’s cup drained, That for writing, no place in his reccrd remained. | هوی و هوس خرمنش سوخته جوی نیک نامی نیندوخته سیه نامه چندان تنعم براند که در نامه جای نبشتن نماند |
A sinner self-willed and adoring lust’s sight; In negligence stupid and drunk day and night. Jesus Christ, I have heard, from the wilderness came, And passed by the hut of a hermit of fame. | گنهکار و خودرای و شهوت پرست بغفلت شب و روز مخمور و مست شنیدم که عیسی درآمد ز دشت به مقصوره عابدی برگذشت |
The hermit came down from his room at the sound, And fell at his feet, with his head on the ground. The sinner, ill-starred, from afar saw the sight; Like the moth, he was greatly amazed at their light. | بزیر آمد از غرفه خلوت نشین به پایش در افتاد سر بر زمین گنهکار برگشته اختر ز دور چو پروانه حیران در ایشان ز نور |
Ashamed and reflecting, because of regret; Like a pauper in front of a wealthy man set; Asking, pardon, abashed, in words fervent and low, For the nights of neglect into day-light let go. | تأمل به حسرت کنان شرمسار چو درویش در دست سرمایهدار خجل زیر لب عذرخواهان به سوز ز شبهای در غفلت آورده روز |
Tears of grief as from clouds showered down from his eyes; “Ah! my life in neglect has been wasted,” he cries; “The coin of dear life, to the wind I have thrown, And have brought not one atom of goodness my own. | سرشک غم از دیده باران چو میغ که عمرم به غفلت گذشت ای دریغ! برانداختم نقد عمر عزیز به دست از نکویی نیاورده چیز |
May no person be able to live, such as I; Than like me to be living, ’twere better to die! He was saved who in infancy passed to the dead, For to manhood he bore not a shame-laden head | چو من زنده هرگز مبادا کسی که مرگش به از زندگانی بسی برست آن که در عهد طفلی بمرد که پیرانه سر شرمساری نبرد |
Oh, Creator of Earth! from my sins set me free; For I’m badly allied if they travel with me!” | گناهم ببخش ای جهان آفرین که گر با من آید فبس القرین |
In this corner, lamenting, the sinful old man — Crying, “Aid my sad plight! for, oh helper, you can!” — Was standing, ashamed, with his head bent before, While over his bosom repentant tears pour. | در این گوشه نالان گنهکار پیر که فریاد حالم رس ای دستگیر نگون مانده از شرمساری سرش روان آب حسرت به شیب و برش |
And the worshipper there, with his head full of pride, From afar, at the profligate frowning, thus cried: “Why does this apostate our footsteps pursue? What kindred has this ruined wretch with us two? | وز آن نیمه عابد سری پر غرور ترش کرده با فاسق ابرو ز دور که این مدبر اندر پی ماچراست؟ نگون بخت جاهل چه در خورد ماست؟ |
One worthy to fall headlong down into fire, Having yielded his life up to lustful desire. From his foul skirted spirit, what goodness has come, That with the Messiah and me, he should chum? | به گردن به آتش در افتادهای به باد هوی عمر بر دادهای چه خیر آمد از نفس تر دامنش که صحبت بود با مسیح و منش؟ |
It were well, had he carried his troubles off, first, And followed to hell all his actions accursed! I grieve, on account of his villainous face, Lest the fire of his guilt should in me find a place. | چه بودی که زحمت ببردی ز پیش به دوزخ برفتی پس کار خویش همی رنجم از طلعت ناخوشش مبادا که در من فتد آتشش |
When the meeting is called, on the Last Judgment Day, Do not raise me, oh God! with this creature I pray! ” Thus speaking, a voice from the glorious God Came to Jesus (on Whom be all blessings bestowed!: | به محشر که حاضر شوند انجمن خدایا تو با او مکن حشر من در این بود و وحی از جلیل الصفات درآمد به عیسی علیهالصلوة |
If that one is learned, and, if ignorant this, The petitions of both have not reached Me amiss. He who wrecked all his prospects and ruined his days, With weeping and fervour to Me humbly prays. | که گر عالم است این و گر وی جهول مرا دعوت هر دو آمد قبول تبه کرده ایام برگشته روز بنالید بر من بزاری و سوز |
Whoever in humbleness seeks for My face, I will not expel from the threshold of grace. I have pardoned the horrible sins he has wrought; By My favour, to Paradise will he be brought. | به بیچارگی هر که آمد برم نیندازمش ز آستان کرم عفو کردم از وی عملهای زشت به انعام خویش آرمش در بهشت |
And should the Adorer of Worship ‘ feel shame Lest he should in Paradise fellowship claim, Say, Blush not for him, at the Last Judgment Morn, For they’ll bear him to Heav’n and to Hell you’ll be borne | وگر عار دارد عبادت پرست که در خلد با وی بود هم نشست بگو ننگ از او در قیامت مدار که آن را به جنت برند این به نار |
That one’s liver turned blood through his burning and grief, If the other relied on himself for relief. He was not aware that at God’s justice seat, Humility’s better than pride and conceit” | که آن را جگر خون شد از سوز و درد گر این تکیه بر طاعت خویش کرد ندانست در بارگاه غنی که بیچارگی به ز کبر و منی |
For the man, whose clothes clean and soul filthy, you see, The gate of hell-fire has no need for a key. At this threshold, infirmness and scantness of pelf, Are better than worship and fondness of self. | کرا جامه پاک است و سیرت پلید در دوزخش را نباید کلید بر این آستان عجز و مسکینیت به از طاعت و خویشتن بینیت |
When you count yourself one of the good, you are bad; Conceit, in divinity never was clad! | چو خود را ز نیکان شمردی بدی نمیگنجد اندر خدایی خودی |
If manly, don’t boast of your manliness here! The ball is not captured by each cavalier. That mean one appeared, like an onion, all skin, Who thought he had brains, like a pista y l within. | اگر مردی از مردی خود مگوی نه هر شهسواری بدر برد گوی پیاز آمد آن بی هنر جمله پوست که پنداشت چون پسته مغزی در اوست |
This sort of devotion’s a profitless thing; Go, and pleas for defects in your worshipping, bring! | از این نوع طاعت نیاید بکار برو عذر تقصیر طاعت بیار |
چه رند پریشان شوریده بخت چه زاهد که بر خود کند کار سخت به زهد و ورع کوش و صدق و صفا ولیکن میفزای بر مصطفی | |
No fruit for his worship that fool ever had, Who was good before God and with people was bad. | نخورد از عبادت بر آن بی خرد که با حق نکو بود و با خلق بد |
Speech exists as a monument over the wise; From Sadi one word in your memory prize! “A sinner who thinks about God, now and then, Excels the adorer, devout before men.” | سخن ماند از علاقلان یادگار ز سعدی همین یک سخن یاددار گنهکار اندیشناک از خدای به از پارسای عبادت نمای |
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by: Reza about (category: Bustan Saadi)
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