Story OF THE MAN AT THE KING’S TABLE حکایت مرد سر میز پادشاه

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

One had only an onion to eat with his bread;
With life’s dainties he was not, like other men, fed.
یکی نان خورش جز پیازی نداشت
چو دیگر کسان برگ و سازی نداشت
A lunatic shouted, “Oh indigent wretch!
Go and ready-cooked meat from the public tray fetch!
کسی گفتش ای سغبه خاکسار
برو طبخی از خوان یغما بیار
Demand thou, oh sir! and for no one show dread!
For cut off is the timid petitioner’s bread.”
بخواه و مدار ای پسر شرم و باک
که مقطوع روزی بود شرمناک
He put on his cloak and with hands ready, stood;
They fractured his fingers and tore up his hood.
قبا بست و چاپک نوردید دست
قبایش دریدند و دستش شکست
I have heard he was saying and shedding red tears:
“Oh my spirit! what help for what’s self-done appears?
همی گفت و بر خویشتن میگریست
که مر خویشتن کرده را چاره چیست؟
The Captive of Avarice, evil pursues;
Henceforth my own house, bread and onions, I’ll use.
بلا جوی باشد گرفتار آز
من وخانه من بعد و نان و پیاز
The barley loaf I by my own arm can eat,
Is better than charity loaves made of wheat.”
جوینی که از سعی بازو خورم
به از میده بر خوان اهل کرم
How distressed was the sleep of that base one, last night,
Who on other men’s tables had fastened his sight! 
چه دلتنگ خفت آن فرومایه دوش
که بر سفره دیگران داشت گوش


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