Story OF THE PHARISEE AND THE DRUNKARD حکایت فقیه و مست

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

A divine passed a man lying drunk on the plain,
And, because of his sanctity, waxed very vain.
He did not, from pride, the man’s circumstance scan;
The youth raised his head, saying, “Oh aged man!
فقیهی بر افتاده مستی گذشت
به مستوری خویش مغرور گشت
ز نخوت بر او التفاتی نکرد
جوان سر برآورد کای پیرمرد
Go and thankfulness show, that in favour you are!
For when pride is at hand, disappointment’s not far!
Do not laugh, when you see one in manacles bound!
Lest, suddenly, you may in fetters be found.
تکبر مکن چون به نعمت دری
که محرومی آید ز مستکبری
یکی را که در بند بینی مخند
مبادا که ناگه درافتی به بند
It may be, at least, in the ruling of Fate,
That, soon, you may fall into my drunken state!
The sky has inscribed the word ‘Mosque’ to your name;
Some one else, in a ‘Fire-Temple do not defame
نه آخر در امکان تقدیر هست
که فردا چو من باشی افتاده مست؟
تو را آسمان خط به مسجد نبشت
مزن طعنه بر دیگری در کنشت
In thanksgiving, oh Musulman, clasp your hands
That your loins are not girt by the Guebre’s false bands.
The searcher for Him, of himself does not move
The Friend’s favour pulls him by force, in the groove.
ببند ای مسلمان به شکرانه دست
که زنار مغ بر میانت نبست
نه خود میرود هر که جویان اوست
به عنفش کشان میبرد لطف دوست
Observe to what length Fate has managed to fly!
It is blindness on any but God to rely!

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