Story of the old man regretting the time op his youth حکایت پیرمرد و تحسر او بر روزگار جوانی

Story of the old man regretting the time op his youth حکایت پیرمرد و تحسر او بر روزگار جوانی

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

n the time of our youth and in pleasant delight,
A few of us gathered together one night;
Like nightingales singing, fresh-faced, like the rose;
Our boisterous mirth broke the street’s still repose.
شبی در جوانی و طیب نعم
جوانان نشستیم چندی بهم
چو بلبل، سرایان چو گل تازه روی
ز شوخی در افگنده غلغل به کوی
An experienced old man sat aloof from our play;
From the sky’s change, the night of his hair was bright day.
Like a filbert, his tongue from discoursing was tied;
Not like us with our lips smiling, pista-like, wide.
جهاندیده پیری ز ما بر کنار
ز دور فلک لیل مویش نهار
چو فندق دهان از سخن بسته بود
نه چون ما لب از خنده چون پسته بود
A youth who approached him said, ” Vet’ran, explain!
In the nook of repentance why sit you, in pain?
For once, raise your head from the collar of woe!
And with youths, in composure of heart, gaily go! “
جوانی فرا رفت کای پیرمرد
چه در کنج حسرت نشینی به درد؟
یکی سر برآر از گریبان غم
به آرام دل با جوانان بچم
From retirement, the man of old age raised his head;
Observe his reply how old man like, he said:
“Should the cool morning breeze through the rose-garden blow,
It becomes the young bushes to wave to and fro.
برآورد سر سالخورد از نهفت
جوابش نگر تا چه پیرانه گفت
چو باد صبا بر گلستان وزد
چمیدن درخت جوان را سزد
The corn waves majestic while growing and green;
It will break when a yellow appearance is seen.
In the Spring when the wind wafts the musk-willow smell,
The trees that are young shed their dry leaves, as well.
چمد تا جوان است و سر سبز خوید
شکسته شود چون به زردی رسید
بهاران که بید آرود بید مشک
بریزد درخت گشن برگ خشک
It does not become me with youth to keep pace,
For the breeze of old age has blown over my face.
The famous male falcon, once under my pow’r,
Now severs the end of the cord, evry hour.
نزیبد مرا با جوانان چمید
که بر عارضم صبح پیری دمید
به قید اندرم جره بازی که بود
دمادم سر رشته خواهد ربود
It is your turn to sit at the tray piled with fare,
For our hands we have washed, after eating our share.
When on your head has settled the dust of old age,
Do not hope you’ll again in youth’s pleasures engage!
شما راست نوبت بر این خوان نشست
که ما از تنعم بشستیم دست
چو بر سر نشست از بزرگی غبار
دگر چشم عیش جوانی مدار
The snow has come down on my raven’s dark wing;
Garden sporting, like Bulbuls, is not now the thing.
The peacock has beauty and proudly may walk;
What can you expect from a broken- wing’d hawk?
مرا برف باریده بر پر زاغ
نشاید چو بلبل تماشای باغ
کند جلوه طاووس صاحب جمال
چه میخواهی از باز برکنده بال؟
My grain has been reaped and collected to thresh;
Your verdure is growing up still, soft and fresh.
My rose garden’s freshness has all disappeared;
Who would fashion a nose-gay from flow’rs that are seared?
مرا غله تنگ اندر آمد درو
شما را کنون میدمد سبزه نو
گلستان ما را طراوت گذشت
که گل دسته بندد چو پژمرده گشت؟
Oh soul of your father! a staff is my stay;
To rely more on self would be out of the way!
It is safe for a stripling to spring to his feet,
But the aged, the help of their hands must entreat.
مرا تکیه جان پدر بر عصاست
دگر تکیه بر زندگانی خطاست
مسلم جوان راست بر پای جست
که پیران برند استعانت به دست
The rose of my face, see ! like yellow gold shines.
When the sun becomes yellow it quickly declines.
The nursing of lust by an ignorant youth,
Is less wicked than by an old lecher, forsooth
گل سرخ رویم نگر زر ناب
فرو رفت، چون زرد شد آفتاب
هوس پختن از کودک ناتمام
چنان زشت نبود که از پیر خام
It behoves me to weep, out of shame, for each crime,
Like a child, but not, child-like, to idle my time.
Lukman said correctly, ‘ Much better be dead,
Than let years of transgressing pass over your head! ‘
مرا میبباید چو طفلان گریست
ز شرم گناهان، نه طفلانه زیست
نکو گفت لقمان که نازیستن
به از سالها بر خطا زیستن
Better close the shop-door, from the dawning of day,
Than to cast both the stock and the profit away!
Before the young man bears his darkness to light,
The poor aged man bears his sin out of sight.
هم از بامدادان در کلبه بست
به از سود و سرمایه دادن ز دست
جوان تا رساند سیاهی به نور
برد پیر مسکین سپیدی به گور

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