I once saw an ’Arab amid a circle of jewellers, at Basrah, who was relating the following story: “Once on a time I had lost my way in the desert, and had not a particle of food left, and I had made up my mind to perish, when, suddenly, I found a purse full of pearls. Never shall I forget the gratification and delight I felt when I imagined them to be parched wheat; nor again, the bitterness and despair when I found them to be pearls.”
STANZA.
In the parched desert and the drifting sands, What to the thirsty is or pearl or shell? When the tired traveller foodless, powerless stands, No more than sherds can gold his wants expel.
An Arab in the desert, from excess of thirst, exclaimed,
VERSE.
“O would that, ere I die, I might at length one day obtain my will: A river dashing by Knee-deep, while I at ease my bucket fill!”
STANZA.
In the parched desert and the drifting sands, What to the thirsty is or pearl or shell? When the tired traveller foodless, powerless stands, No more than sherds can gold his wants expel.
An Arab in the desert, from excess of thirst, exclaimed,
VERSE.
“O would that, ere I die, I might at length one day obtain my will: A river dashing by Knee-deep, while I at ease my bucket fill!”
In the same way a traveller had lost his way in a vast plain, and his food and strength were exhausted, and he had some dirams in his belt. He wandered about much, but could not regain the road, and perished of fatigue. A party arrived there, and saw the dirams spread out before his face, and these words traced on the ground,
STANZA.
“Though he all yellow gold, pure gold possessed, His wishes still the foodless man would miss. A turnip boiled, to the poor wretch distressed In deserts, than crude silver better is.”
I never complained of the vicissitudes of fortune, nor suffered my face to be overcast at the revolution of the heavens, except once, when my feet were bare, and I had not the means of obtaining shoes. I came to the chief mosque of Kufah in a state of much dejection, and saw there a man who had no feet. I returned thanks to God and acknowledged his mercies, and endured my want of shoes with patience, and exclaimed,
STANZA.
“Though he all yellow gold, pure gold possessed, His wishes still the foodless man would miss. A turnip boiled, to the poor wretch distressed In deserts, than crude silver better is.”
I never complained of the vicissitudes of fortune, nor suffered my face to be overcast at the revolution of the heavens, except once, when my feet were bare, and I had not the means of obtaining shoes. I came to the chief mosque of Kufah in a state of much dejection, and saw there a man who had no feet. I returned thanks to God and acknowledged his mercies, and endured my want of shoes with patience, and exclaimed,
STANZA.
“Roast fowl to him that’s sated will seem less Upon the board than leaves of garden cress. While, in the sight of helpless poverty, Boiled turnip will a roasted pullet be.”
A certain king, with some of his principal officers, chanced to be in a hunting-park, at a great distance from any habitation, in time of winter. Night fell; they observed the house of a peasant, and the king said, “Let us go there for the night, that we do not suffer from the cold.” One of his vazirs said, “It would not be suitable to the dignity of a king to take refuge in the hut of a miserable peasant. Let us pitch our tent here and kindle a fire.” The peasant learned what had taken place. He prepared what food he had ready and took it to the king, and, after kissing the ground respectfully, said, “The lofty dignity of the king will not be lowered by thus much condescension; but these are unwilling that the rank of the peasant should be exalted.” The king was pleased with his address. He transferred himself to his cottage for the night, and in the morning gave him a robe of honour and other rich presents. I have heard that the villager ran by the king’s stirrup for some distance, and said,
“Roast fowl to him that’s sated will seem less Upon the board than leaves of garden cress. While, in the sight of helpless poverty, Boiled turnip will a roasted pullet be.”
A certain king, with some of his principal officers, chanced to be in a hunting-park, at a great distance from any habitation, in time of winter. Night fell; they observed the house of a peasant, and the king said, “Let us go there for the night, that we do not suffer from the cold.” One of his vazirs said, “It would not be suitable to the dignity of a king to take refuge in the hut of a miserable peasant. Let us pitch our tent here and kindle a fire.” The peasant learned what had taken place. He prepared what food he had ready and took it to the king, and, after kissing the ground respectfully, said, “The lofty dignity of the king will not be lowered by thus much condescension; but these are unwilling that the rank of the peasant should be exalted.” The king was pleased with his address. He transferred himself to his cottage for the night, and in the morning gave him a robe of honour and other rich presents. I have heard that the villager ran by the king’s stirrup for some distance, and said,
STANZA.
“Of the king’s glorious attributes, not one Was lost by honouring the hostelrie Of the poor peasant, whose peaked cap the sun Has reached, since on his head fell, shelteringly, The shadow of a monarch great like thee.”
Story XXI.
They relate that a horrible mendicant possessed great treasures. A king said to him, “It appears that thou possessest immense wealth, and I have an emergent occasion; if thou wouldst assist me with a little of it by way of loan, when the revenue of the country comes in it shall be faithfully repaid.” He replied, “It would be unworthy of the lofty dignity of Earth’s Lord to defile the hand of his nobleness with the property of a beggar like me, who has scraped it up grain by grain.” The king replied, “There is no occasion to be distressed on that account, for I shall give it to the Tartars—filth to the filthy.”
“Of the king’s glorious attributes, not one Was lost by honouring the hostelrie Of the poor peasant, whose peaked cap the sun Has reached, since on his head fell, shelteringly, The shadow of a monarch great like thee.”
Story XXI.
They relate that a horrible mendicant possessed great treasures. A king said to him, “It appears that thou possessest immense wealth, and I have an emergent occasion; if thou wouldst assist me with a little of it by way of loan, when the revenue of the country comes in it shall be faithfully repaid.” He replied, “It would be unworthy of the lofty dignity of Earth’s Lord to defile the hand of his nobleness with the property of a beggar like me, who has scraped it up grain by grain.” The king replied, “There is no occasion to be distressed on that account, for I shall give it to the Tartars—filth to the filthy.”
COUPLET.
Mortar, they tell us, is by no means sweet; ’Tis then to stop foul drains with it more meet.
COUPLET.
A Christian’s well may not be pure, ’tis true; ’Twill do to wash the carcase of a Jew.
I have heard that he bowed not to the king’s command, and began to shuffle and be insolent. The king then ordered them to take out of his clutches, by force and intimidation, the amount under discussion.
DISTICHS.
When by kind means succeeds not an affair, Rough treatment then we must apply and force.
Whoever of himself will nothing spare, Others will him, too, nothing spare, of course.
Mortar, they tell us, is by no means sweet; ’Tis then to stop foul drains with it more meet.
COUPLET.
A Christian’s well may not be pure, ’tis true; ’Twill do to wash the carcase of a Jew.
I have heard that he bowed not to the king’s command, and began to shuffle and be insolent. The king then ordered them to take out of his clutches, by force and intimidation, the amount under discussion.
DISTICHS.
When by kind means succeeds not an affair, Rough treatment then we must apply and force.
Whoever of himself will nothing spare, Others will him, too, nothing spare, of course.
I met with a merchant who had a hundred and fifty camels of burden and forty slaves and servants. One night, in the island of Kish, he took me to his room, and did not cease the whole night from talking in a rhodomontade fashion, and saying, “I have such a correspondent in Turkistan, and such an agency in Hindustan; and this paper is the title-deed of such a piece of ground, and for such a thing I have such a person as security.” At one time he said, “I intend to go to Alexandria, as the climate is agreeable.” At another, “No! for the western sea is boisterous; O Sa‘di! I have one more journey before me: when that is accomplished I shall retire for the rest of my life and give up trading.” I said, “What journey is that?” He replied, “I shall take Persian sulphur to China, for I have heard that it brings a prodigious price there; and thence I shall take China-ware to Greece, and Grecian brocade to India, and Indian steel to Aleppo, and mirrors of Aleppo to Yanian, and striped cloth of Yaman to Persia, and after that I shall give up trading and sit at home in my shop.” He continued for some time rambling in this strain until he had no power to utter more. He then said, “O Sa‘di! do thou say something of what thou hast seen and heard.” I replied, “Thou hast not left me a single subject to talk about.”
VERSE.
Hast thou not heard what once a merchant cried, As in the desert from his beast he sank? “The worldling’s greedy eye is satisfied, Or by contentment or the grave-yard dank.”
Story XXIII.
I have heard of a wealthy man who was as famous for his parsimony as Hatim Tai for generosity. His outward estate was adorned with riches, but the baseness of his nature was so inherent in him that he would not have given a loaf to save a life, nor would have indulged the cat of Abu Hurairah with a scrap, nor have cast a bone to the dog of the Companions of the Cave. In short, no one ever saw his mansion with the doors open, nor his table spread.
COUPLET.
No darwesh knew his viands save by smell, Nor birds picked crumbs which from his table fell.
I have heard that he was voyaging to Egypt by the western sea with all the pride of Pharaoh, according to the words of the Most High, “until his submersion arrived.” All of a sudden an adverse wind sprang up round the vessel: as they have said,
Hast thou not heard what once a merchant cried, As in the desert from his beast he sank? “The worldling’s greedy eye is satisfied, Or by contentment or the grave-yard dank.”
Story XXIII.
I have heard of a wealthy man who was as famous for his parsimony as Hatim Tai for generosity. His outward estate was adorned with riches, but the baseness of his nature was so inherent in him that he would not have given a loaf to save a life, nor would have indulged the cat of Abu Hurairah with a scrap, nor have cast a bone to the dog of the Companions of the Cave. In short, no one ever saw his mansion with the doors open, nor his table spread.
COUPLET.
No darwesh knew his viands save by smell, Nor birds picked crumbs which from his table fell.
I have heard that he was voyaging to Egypt by the western sea with all the pride of Pharaoh, according to the words of the Most High, “until his submersion arrived.” All of a sudden an adverse wind sprang up round the vessel: as they have said,
COUPLET.
“Thy peevish mind all things must still displease. The ship not always finds a favouring breeze.”
He raised his hands in prayer, and began to make unavailing lamentations. God Most High has said, “When they embark in a ship, they pray to God.”
COUPLET.
What will it avail the creature to stretch forth his hand in grief? Raised in prayer to God in peril, but withheld from man’s relief.
STANZA.
Go, with thy silver and thy gold, provide Blessings to men; nor from thyself withhold Enjoyment due; thus ever shall abide Thy house, its bricks of silver and of gold.
They relate that he had poor relations in Egypt, who were enriched by the residue of his property, and who, at his death, rent their old garments, and cut out others of silk and stuffs of Damietta. During the same week, too, I saw one of them mounted on a fleet courser, with a fairy-faced youth running at his stirrup. I said to myself,
“Thy peevish mind all things must still displease. The ship not always finds a favouring breeze.”
He raised his hands in prayer, and began to make unavailing lamentations. God Most High has said, “When they embark in a ship, they pray to God.”
COUPLET.
What will it avail the creature to stretch forth his hand in grief? Raised in prayer to God in peril, but withheld from man’s relief.
STANZA.
Go, with thy silver and thy gold, provide Blessings to men; nor from thyself withhold Enjoyment due; thus ever shall abide Thy house, its bricks of silver and of gold.
They relate that he had poor relations in Egypt, who were enriched by the residue of his property, and who, at his death, rent their old garments, and cut out others of silk and stuffs of Damietta. During the same week, too, I saw one of them mounted on a fleet courser, with a fairy-faced youth running at his stirrup. I said to myself,
STANZA.
“Ah! could the dear defunct again Back to his kin and friends repair, Worse than his death would be the pain Of restitution to his heir.”
On the strength of a former acquaintance which existed between us, I pulled his sleeve and said,
COUPLET.
“Enjoy thy fortune, gentle sir! for he, Luckless, amassed; th’ enjoyment, left to thee.”
Story XXIV.
A strong fish fell into the net of a weak fisherman. He had not strength to secure it; the fish got the better of him, dragged the net from his hands, and escaped.
STANZA.
The slave went forth for water from the brook, The streamlet rose and bore the slave away. Each time the net its prize of fishes took, But of the net the fish made prize to-day.
The other fishermen were vexed, and reproached him, saying, “Such a fish fell into thy net, and thou couldst not keep it!” He replied, “O brothers! what could I do? seeing that it was not my lucky day, and the fish had some days remaining.”
“Ah! could the dear defunct again Back to his kin and friends repair, Worse than his death would be the pain Of restitution to his heir.”
On the strength of a former acquaintance which existed between us, I pulled his sleeve and said,
COUPLET.
“Enjoy thy fortune, gentle sir! for he, Luckless, amassed; th’ enjoyment, left to thee.”
Story XXIV.
A strong fish fell into the net of a weak fisherman. He had not strength to secure it; the fish got the better of him, dragged the net from his hands, and escaped.
STANZA.
The slave went forth for water from the brook, The streamlet rose and bore the slave away. Each time the net its prize of fishes took, But of the net the fish made prize to-day.
The other fishermen were vexed, and reproached him, saying, “Such a fish fell into thy net, and thou couldst not keep it!” He replied, “O brothers! what could I do? seeing that it was not my lucky day, and the fish had some days remaining.”
MAXIM.
A fisherman without luck cannot capture a fish in the Tigris; and unless his predestined time be come, a fish will not die on the dry land.
Story XXV.
One whose hands and feet had been cut off killed a millepede. A devout personage passed by and said, “Holy God! though it had a thousand feet, yet, when its time was come, it could not escape from one without either hands or feet.”
DISTICHS.
When from behind speeds our last enemy, Fate fetters us, how fleet soe’er we be. And in that instant when comes up the foe, ’Tis vain to handle the Kaianian bow.
Story XXVI.
I saw a fat blockhead, with a gorgeous robe on his body, and an Arabian horse under him, and a turban of fine Egyptian linen on his head. Some one said, “O Sadi! what thinkest thou of this splendid brocade on this animal who knows nothing?” I replied, “It is a villainous scrawl written in golden letters.”
A fisherman without luck cannot capture a fish in the Tigris; and unless his predestined time be come, a fish will not die on the dry land.
Story XXV.
One whose hands and feet had been cut off killed a millepede. A devout personage passed by and said, “Holy God! though it had a thousand feet, yet, when its time was come, it could not escape from one without either hands or feet.”
DISTICHS.
When from behind speeds our last enemy, Fate fetters us, how fleet soe’er we be. And in that instant when comes up the foe, ’Tis vain to handle the Kaianian bow.
Story XXVI.
I saw a fat blockhead, with a gorgeous robe on his body, and an Arabian horse under him, and a turban of fine Egyptian linen on his head. Some one said, “O Sadi! what thinkest thou of this splendid brocade on this animal who knows nothing?” I replied, “It is a villainous scrawl written in golden letters.”
COUPLET.
He, among men, an ass appears to be, Cedes a very calf-like effigy.
STANZA.
One cannot say this brute resembles man, Save by cloak, turban, outward garniture; Go thou his goods, estates, possessions scan, Naught but his life is takeable, be sure.
STANZA.
Though one of birth illustrious should grow poor, This will his lofty station naught impair: And though gold nails may stud his silver door, Think not a Jew can aught that’s noble share.
He, among men, an ass appears to be, Cedes a very calf-like effigy.
STANZA.
One cannot say this brute resembles man, Save by cloak, turban, outward garniture; Go thou his goods, estates, possessions scan, Naught but his life is takeable, be sure.
STANZA.
Though one of birth illustrious should grow poor, This will his lofty station naught impair: And though gold nails may stud his silver door, Think not a Jew can aught that’s noble share.