Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی
From the crown of a prince, in a stony camp-ground, gem fell at night, ‘mong the pebbles around. Said his father, ” The night has so very dark grown, How can you distinguish the gem from a stone ? | ز تاج ملک زادهای در ملاخ شبی لعلی افتاد در سنگلاخ پدر گفتش اندر شب تیره رنگ چه دانی که گوهر کدام است و سنگ؟ |
Preserve, oh my son, all the stones lying here ! That the ruby may not from their midst disappear.” ‘Mong the rabble, the holy of rapturous face, Are the ruby ‘mong stones, in a dark, dreary place. | همه سنگها پاس دار ای پسر که لعل از میانش نباشد به در در اوباش، پاکان شوریده رنگ همان جای تاریک و لعلند و سنگ |
The load of the foolish with dignity bear ! For, at last, the reward of the pious you’ll share. | چو پاکیزه نفسان و صاحبدلان بر آمیختستند با جاهلان به رغبت بکش بار هر جاهلی که افتی به سر وقت صاحبدلی |
You can see that the person in love with a friend, Bears the enemy’s troubles that on him descend ; Tears his robes, like a rose at the hand of a thorn ; For the warm lover smiles, like the pomegranate torn. | کسی را که با دوستی سرخوش است نبینی که چون بار دشمن کش است؟ بدرد چو گل جامه از دست خار که خون در دل افتاده خندد چو نار |
For the love you bear one, sympathize with the whole ! Take care of a hundred, because of one soul ! If the humble in gait and distracted in mind, Debased and in poverty steeped, you should find, | غم جمله خور در هوای یکی مراعات صد کن برای یکی کسی را که نزدیک ظنت بد اوست چه دانی که صاحب ولایت خود اوست؟ |
Never view them as though they delighted your eyes ! That they are approved of by God, will suffice. The person who may in your judgment be vile, May be pow’rless to guide his own actions, the while. | |
The door of God’s knowledge is open to those, In the faces of whom, people other doors close. Many bitter delights of the tasters of woe, On the Last Day, as awful accusers will show. | در معرفت بر کسانی است باز که درهاست بر روی ایشان فراز بسا تلخ عیشان و تلخی چشان که آیند در حله دامن کشان |
If wisdom and judgment within you are found, Kiss the king’s grandson’s hand, in the dark dungeon bound ! He will some day go free through the state-prison gate, And confer on you rank, when he comes to be great. | ببوسی گرت عقل و تدبیر هست ملک زاده را در نواخانه دست که روزی برون آید از شهر بند بلندیت بخشد چو گردد بلند |
Do not burn up that rose-bush in autumn, though sere ! For to you in the spring, it will precious appear. | مسوزان درخت گل اندر خریف که در نوبهارت نماید ظریف |
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