Story OF THE PIOUS MAN AND HIS BRICK OF GOLD حکایت پارسا

Story OF THE PIOUS MAN AND HIS BRICK OF GOLD حکایت پارسا

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

An ingot of gold to the hand of one fell.
Who was pious in nature and worshipped God well.
It so greatly distracted his sensible head.
That his madness of heart o’er his face darkness spread.
یکی پارسا سیرت حق پرست
فتادش یکی خشت زرین به دست
سر هوشمندش چنان خیره کرد
که سودا دل روشنش تیره کرد
In the thought of his treasure and wealth, the night passe
He said, “While I’m living it surely will last:
Again my weak body, for mere begging’s sake,
Bent and straight, before people, I ought not to make.
همه شب در اندیشه کاین گنج و مال
در او تا زیم ره نیابد زوال
دگر قامت عجزم از بهر خواست
نباید بر کس دوتا کرد و راست
I’ll a palace, with basement of marble, erect;
And the roof will with aloes-wood rafters be decked.
For my friends, I’ll a private apartment complete,
Whose door will be inside a garden retreat
سرایی کنم پای بستش رخام
درختان سقفش همه عود خام
یکی حجره خاص از پی دوستان
در حجره اندر سرا بوستان
From sewing on patch upon patch, I am tired;
While my eyes and my brain, others’ burning has fired.
Henceforward will menials my victuals prepare
I will cherish my soul by removing all care.
بفرسودم از رقعه بر رقعه دوخت
تف دیگدان چشم و مغزم بسوخت
دگر زیر دستان پزندم خورش
براحت دهم روح را پرورش
This hard, felten blanket has murdered me quite;
I will go and arrange a rich bed from to-night “.
Fancy caused him to dote, and look frenzied and wan;
The crab sunk its claws in the brains of the man.
بسختی بکشت این نمد بسترم
روم زین سپس عبقری گسترم
خیالش خرف کرده کالیوه رنگ
به مغزش فرو برده خرچنگ چنگ
No leisure for prayer or God’s study had he —
From sleeping and eating and worshipping free
Head drunk from delusions, he came to a plain
For nor rest nor composure with him did remain.
فراغ مناجات و رازش نماند
خور و خواب و ذکر و نمازش نماند
به صحرا برآمد سر از عشوه مست
که جایی نبودش قرار نشست
At the head of a grave one was mixing up mire.
Some bricks from the dust of that grave to acquire.
In deep thought with himself the old man hung his head;
“Oh short-sighted soul! take a lesson! “he said
یکی بر سر گور گل می سرشت
که حاصل کند زان گل گور خشت
به اندیشه لختی فرو رفت پیر
که ای نفس کوته نظر پند گیر
“Your heart on this brick, of pure gold, wherefore lay?
For soon they will model a brick from your clay “.
The vast mouth of greed is not opened thus wide.
That its appetite should by one morsel be tied.
چه بندی در این خشت زرین دلت
که یک روز خشتی کنند از گلت؟
طمع را نه چندان دهان است باز
که بازش نشیند به یک لقمه آز
Withhold from this brick, oh, debased one, your hand!
For with one brick you cannot the Oxus withstand.
بدار ای فرومایه زین خشت دست
که جیحون نشاید به یک خشت بست
Absorbed in your profit and goods, you don’t mind
That the stock of your life has been cast to the wind!
Such breezes will over this dust of ours play,
That each atom of us will be wafted away.
تو غافل در اندیشه سود مال
که سرمایه عمر شد پایمال
Your eyes were stitched up by the dust of desire
Lust’s scorching Simoom set your life’s field on fire.
غبار هوی چشم عقلت بدوخت
سموم هوس کشت عمرت بسوخت
The black dust of neglect from your eyelids set free!
For, to-morrow, black dust underground you will be.
بکن سرمه غفلت از چشم پاک
که فردا شوی سرمه در چشم خاک

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