Story on the power of ecstacy and empire of love حکایت در معنی غلبه وجد و سلطنت عشق

Story on the power of ecstacy and empire of love حکایت در معنی غلبه وجد و سلطنت عشق

Bustan Saadi بوستان سعدی

In fair Samarkand, one a mistress possessed;
You’d have said that her speech was like sugar expressed
Her loveliness bore off the palm from the sun;
By her merriness, piety’s base was undone.
  یکی شاهدی در سمرقند داشت
که گفتی بجای سمر قند داشت
جمالی گرو برده از آفتاب
ز شوخیش بنیاد تقوی خراب
The Almighty upon her such beauty bestowed,
That you’d fancy a sign of His mercy He showed
She would walk with the eyes of a crowd in her wake
Friends sacrificed hearts for her sweet nature’s sake.  
  تعالی الله از حسن تا غایتی
که پنداری از رحمتست آیتی
همی رفتی و دیده‌ها در پیش
دل دوستان کرده جان بر خیش
In concealment, this lover the fair lady spied ;
She gave him a withering glance, once, and cried :
“Oh block-head! how long will you after me sweat ?
Do you know not that I’m not the bird for your net ?  
  نظر کردی این دوست در وی نهفت
نگه کرد باری بتندی و گفت
که ای خیره سر چند پویی پیم
ندانی که من مرغ دامت نیم؟
If I see you again, with the sword, at a blow,
I’ll not scruple to cut off your head, like a foe.”  
  گرت بار دیگر ببینم به تیغ
چو دشمن ببرم سرت بی دریغ
A person addressed him ” Now go your own way !
And find a more facile ‘ beloved as your prey.
I don’t think you will gain the desire of your mind ;
God forbid, that you cast your sweet life to the wind !”  
  کسی گفتش اکنون سر خویش گیر
از این سهل تر مطلبی پیش گیر
نپندارم این کام حاصل کنی
مبادا که جان در سر دل کنی
Like a lover sincere, the reproof he heard through ;
A cold sigh from his heart, full of anguish, he drew ;
Saying, ” Stop! till the sabre of death does its worst,
And my corpse, from its wound, rolls in blood and in dust!  
  چو مفتون صادق ملامت شنید
بدرد از درون ناله‌ای برکشید
که بگذار تا زخم تیغ هلاک
بغلطاندم لاشه در خون و خاک
To foe and to friend they, perhaps, will explain,
That I by her hand with the sabre was slain.
To fly from her quarter, I see not my way ;
Do not scatter my honour unjustly, I pray !
مگر پیش دشمن بگویند و دوست
که این کشته دست و شمشیر اوست
نمی‌بینم از خاک کویش گریز
به بیداد گو آبرویم بریز
You bid me repent, oh self-worshipping man !
To repent of your words, were a worthier plan !
Forgive me! for all that she does, I can tell —
Even if it is shedding of blood —she does well
مرا توبه فرمایی ای خودپرست
تو را توبه زین گفت اولی ترست
ببخشای بر من که هرچ او کند
وگر قصد خون است نیکو کند
Her fire, through the night, makes my poor body burn ;
Her fragrance makes life, in the morning, retura
If, to-day, in my love’s street my life I should end,
At the Judgment, my tent I will pitch by my friend”
بسوزاندم هر شبی آتشش
سحر زنده گردم به بوی خوشش
اگر میرم امروز در کوی دوست
قیامت زنم خیمه پهلوی دوست
While able, do not in love’s war suffer rout ;
Is not Sadi alive, though his love is put out ?  
  مده تا توانی در این جنگ پشت
که زنده‌ست سعدی که عشقش بکشت

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