In the country of Diyarbakr, I was the guest of an old man, who possessed great riches, and a handsome son. One night he told me that in his whole life he had never had but this one son. There was a tree, he said, in that valley to which pilgrimages were made, and whither persons resorted to pray for what they needed; and that he, too, had wept for many nights, at the foot of that tree, in prayer to God, who had bestowed on him this son. I heard his son whisper softly to his companions, “Would that I knew where that tree is, that I might pray there for my father's death!”
Long years, successive years have gone, Since thou didst visit at thy father's grave;
What filial actions hast thou done, That from thy son thou should’st like worship crave?
One day, in the pride of my youth, I had travelled hard, and at night stopped, much fatigued, at the foot
Long years, successive years have gone, Since thou didst visit at thy father's grave;
What filial actions hast thou done, That from thy son thou should’st like worship crave?
One day, in the pride of my youth, I had travelled hard, and at night stopped, much fatigued, at the foot
of a mountain. An infirm old man, who followed the caravan, said to me, “Arise! this is not a place to slumber in.” I replied, “How can I proceed, when I have not the power to stir a foot?” He rejoined, “Hast thou not heard that they have said, ‘It is better to walk and rest, than to run and be oppressed?’”
STANZA.
Thou who wouldst reach the halting-place, haste not; Be patient! and my counsel hear aright: Two courses may be sped by charger hot; The mule goes slowly, but goes day and night.
Story V.
In the circle of my acquaintance there was a sprightly and amiable youth, gay and soft-spoken, who had not a particle of melancholy in his composition, and whose mouth was never closed for laughter. An interval passed during which I did not happen to meet him. After that, I saw him when he had married a wife, and his children were growing up, and the root of his contentment was severed, and the rose of his desires withered. I asked him, “What is this state of thine?” He replied, “As soon as I had got boys I left off play.”
STANZA.
Thou who wouldst reach the halting-place, haste not; Be patient! and my counsel hear aright: Two courses may be sped by charger hot; The mule goes slowly, but goes day and night.
Story V.
In the circle of my acquaintance there was a sprightly and amiable youth, gay and soft-spoken, who had not a particle of melancholy in his composition, and whose mouth was never closed for laughter. An interval passed during which I did not happen to meet him. After that, I saw him when he had married a wife, and his children were growing up, and the root of his contentment was severed, and the rose of his desires withered. I asked him, “What is this state of thine?” He replied, “As soon as I had got boys I left off play.”
COUPLET.
When thou art old thy pastimes put away: Leave frolics to the young and mirthful play.
DISTICHS.
The youth’s gay humour seek not from the old The stream returns not which has onward rolled. Not so elastic bends the yellow corn As the young blade before the breeze of morn.
STANZA.
Youth’s circling hours have passed for aye away; Ah me! alas that that gay time is spent! The lion feels his strength of paw decay; Now, like a pard, with cheese-scraps I’m content. An aged dame had dyed her locks of grey; “Granted,” I said, “thy hair with silver blent May cheat us now; yet, little mother! say, Canst thou make straight thy back, which time has bent?”
Story VI.
One day, in the ignorance and folly of youth, I raised my voice against my mother. Cut to the heart, she sate down in a corner and said, weeping, “Perhaps thou hast forgotten thy infancy, that thou treatest me with this rudeness?”
When thou art old thy pastimes put away: Leave frolics to the young and mirthful play.
DISTICHS.
The youth’s gay humour seek not from the old The stream returns not which has onward rolled. Not so elastic bends the yellow corn As the young blade before the breeze of morn.
STANZA.
Youth’s circling hours have passed for aye away; Ah me! alas that that gay time is spent! The lion feels his strength of paw decay; Now, like a pard, with cheese-scraps I’m content. An aged dame had dyed her locks of grey; “Granted,” I said, “thy hair with silver blent May cheat us now; yet, little mother! say, Canst thou make straight thy back, which time has bent?”
Story VI.
One day, in the ignorance and folly of youth, I raised my voice against my mother. Cut to the heart, she sate down in a corner and said, weeping, “Perhaps thou hast forgotten thy infancy, that thou treatest me with this rudeness?”
STANZA.
Well said that aged mother to her son Whose giant arm could well a tiger slay! “Couldst thou remember days long past and gone, When in my arms a helpless infant lay, And know thyself that babe, thou wouldst not now Thus wrong me when I’m old; an athlete thou!”
Story VII.
The son of a rich miser was sick. The father’s friends said to him, “The course to be adopted is to read through the Kur’an from beginning to end, or to offer up a sacrifice. It may be that the Most High God will grant him recovery.” He reflected for a short space, and said, “It is better to read the Kur’an, as it is at hand; whereas the flock is at a distance.” A devout person heard him, and said, “He made choice of the reading, because the Kur’an is on the tip of his tongue, and the gold is in the centre of his heart.”
Well said that aged mother to her son Whose giant arm could well a tiger slay! “Couldst thou remember days long past and gone, When in my arms a helpless infant lay, And know thyself that babe, thou wouldst not now Thus wrong me when I’m old; an athlete thou!”
Story VII.
The son of a rich miser was sick. The father’s friends said to him, “The course to be adopted is to read through the Kur’an from beginning to end, or to offer up a sacrifice. It may be that the Most High God will grant him recovery.” He reflected for a short space, and said, “It is better to read the Kur’an, as it is at hand; whereas the flock is at a distance.” A devout person heard him, and said, “He made choice of the reading, because the Kur’an is on the tip of his tongue, and the gold is in the centre of his heart.”
DISTICHS.
In sooth, it is an easy task to do, To bow the neck; but were alms needed too ’Twere hard indeed. One dinar but require, And, like an ass, he flounders in the mire; But for a chapter of the Kur’an call,— Ask only one, he’ll gladly give thee all.
Story VIII.
They asked an old man why he did not marry. He replied, “I don't think I could fancy an old woman.” They rejoined, “Espouse a young one, since thou hast substance.” “Nay,” he rejoined, “when I, who am old, do not like old women, how is it possible for a young woman to like me, an old man?”
In sooth, it is an easy task to do, To bow the neck; but were alms needed too ’Twere hard indeed. One dinar but require, And, like an ass, he flounders in the mire; But for a chapter of the Kur’an call,— Ask only one, he’ll gladly give thee all.
Story VIII.
They asked an old man why he did not marry. He replied, “I don't think I could fancy an old woman.” They rejoined, “Espouse a young one, since thou hast substance.” “Nay,” he rejoined, “when I, who am old, do not like old women, how is it possible for a young woman to like me, an old man?”