Story OF SULTAN TOGHRAL AND THE SLAVE GUARD حکایت سلطان طغرل و هندوی پاسبان

Story OF SULTAN TOGHRAL AND THE SLAVE GUARD حکایت سلطان طغرل و هندوی پاسبان

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

I have heard that Toghrdl,1 on a cold, wintry night,
Passed a slave-guard on duty and saw his sad plight.
From the falling of snow and the torrents of rain,
Like Canbptis, he could not from trembling refrain.
شنیدم که طغرل شبی در خزان
گذر کرد بر هندوی پاسبان
ز باریدن برف و باران و سیل
به لرزش در افتاده همچون سهیل
For the watchman, his heart out of pity grew hot,
And he said, “Take this mantle of sheepskin, I’ve got!
Near the roof for a moment, expecting it, stand!
And I’ll send it without, by a slave stripling’s hand.”
دلش بر وی از رحمت آورد جوش
که اینک قبا پوستینم بپوش
دمی منتظر باش بر طرف بام
که بیرون فرستم به دست غلام
The wind in the meantime a hurricane blew,
As inside his palace the king slipped from view.
He possessed in his household a fairy-faced slave,
To whose charms a good share of attention he gave.
در این بود و باد صبا بروزید
شهنشه در ایوان شاهی خزید
وشاقی پری چهره در خیل داشت
که طبعش بدو اندکی میل داشت
On beholding the maiden, such joy did he find,
That the wretched slave sentry escaped from his mind.
تماشای ترکش چنان خوش فتاد
که هندوی مسکین برفتش ز یاد
The mantle of sheepskin went through the slave’s ear;
From bad luck, on his shoulders it did not appear.
قبا پوستینی گذشتش به گوش
ز بدبختیش در نیامد به دوش
With the pain of the cold, was it little to cope,
That the tyrannous sky should have bidden him hope?
Observe, when the king heedless slept on his bed,
What the drummer, when daylight appeared, to him said:
مگر رنج سرما بر او بس نبود
که جور سپهر انتظارش فزود
نگه کن چو سلطان به غفلت بخفت
که چوبک زنش بامدادان چه گفت
” Very likely Nek-Bakht on your thoughts did not rest,
When you carried your hand to the fair maiden’s breast!
In enjoyment and pleasure, your night slips away,
How know you how our night dissolves into day? “
مگر نیک بختت فراموش شد
چو دستت در آغوش آغوش شد؟
تو را شب به عیش و طرب میرود
چه دانی که بر ما چه شب میرود؟
When the head of the trav’ller is over the pot,
What cares he concerning the sand-stayed one’s lot?
To your ships on the water, oh master, hold fast!
For the water has over the pauper’s head passed!
فرو برده سر کاروانی به دیگ
چه از پا فرو رفتگانش به ریگ
بدار ای خداوند زورق بر آب
که بیچارگان را گذشت از سر آب
Oh active, young man! you should practise delay!
For feeble old men in the caravan stay.
In the caravan litter, you sleep without qualm,
While the halter is held in the camel-man’s palm.
توقف کنید ای جوانان چست
که در کاروانند پیران سست
تو خوش خفته در هودج کاروان
مهار شتر در کف ساروان
What are deserts and hills, rocks and sand to your mind?
Find the truth out from. those on the road left behind!
A beast, like a mountain in form, bears you well,,
Of the footman who eats his own blood, can you tell?
چه هامون و کوهت، چه سنگ و رمال
ز ره باز پس ماندگان پرس حال
تو را کوه پیکر هیون میبرد
پیاده چه دانی که خون میخورد؟
Those in comfort, asleep ‘mong the baggage, who wait,
Do not know of the famishing stomach’s sad state.
به آرام دل خفتگان در بنه
چه دانند حال کم گرسنه؟


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