Story on the happy times of the contented poor صفت جمعیت اوقات درویشان راضی

Story on the happy times of the contented poor صفت جمعیت اوقات درویشان راضی

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

Do not say that no rank is than empire more great;
For the Dervish’s realm is the happiest state!
The man lightly burdened will swifter proceed;
This is truth, and the good to the saying give heed.
  مگو جاهی از سلطنت بیش نیست
که ایمن‌تر از ملک درویش نیست
سبکبار مردم سبک‌تر روند
حق این است و صاحبدلان بشنوند
The grief of a loaf, the poor beggar sustains;
To a world, the distress of a monarch attains.
When food for the evening the beggar has found,
As the king of Damascus, he’ll slumber as sound.  
تهیدست تشویش نانی خورد
جهانبان بقدر جهانی خورد
گدا را چو حاصل شود نان شام
چنان خوش بخسبد که سلطان شام
Both sorrow and gladness to end are inclined,
And will vanish together at death, from the mind.
What matters it then, whom the multitude crowned?
What matters it then, who the tax money found?
غم و شادمانی بسر می‌رود
به مرگ این دو از سر بدر می‌رود
چه آن را که بر سر نهادند تاج
چه آن را که بر گردن آمد خراج 
If a noble should soar over Saturn on high,
Or a destitute man in a dungeon should lie;
When both are attacked by the Army of Fate,
Which is one which the other no mortal can state.
اگر سرفرازی به کیوان برست
وگر تنگدستی به زندان درست
چو خیل اجل در سر هر دو تاخت
نمی شاید از یکدگرشان شناخت

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