He knows not God nor performs His worship who is not contented with his lot.
Contentment maketh a man rich—tell this to the avaricious.
O irresolute one! be tranquil, for grass grows not upon revolving stones.
Pamper not thy body if thou be a man of sense, for in so doing dost thou seek thine own destruction.
The wise acquire virtue, and they that pamper their bodies are devoid of merit.
Eating and sleeping is the creed of animals; to adopt it is the manner of fools.
Happy is that fortunate man who, in meditation, prepares for the last journey by means of the knowledge of God.
To him who knows not the darkness from the light the face of a demon is as that of a Houri.[26]
How can the falcon fly to the sky when the stone of avarice is tied to its wing?
If thou pay less attention to thy food than to worship thou mayest become an angel. Firstcultivate the qualities of a man, then reflect upon the character of angels.
Eat in proportion to thy hunger; how can he give praises who scarce can breathe by reason of his gluttony?
He whose stomach is full is void of wisdom. The prey is entrapped in the snare because of its greed.
A covetous man paid an early morning visit to the king of Khwarazm, and twice prostrated himself to the ground before him.
“Tell me, O father,” his son inquired, “didst thou not say that Mecca was thy place of worship? Why didst thou to-day repeat thy prayers before the king?”
Contentment exalteth the head; that which is full of avarice comes no higher than the shoulder.
He who has wrapped up the volume of his avarice needs not to write to any one, “I am thy slave and servant.”
By begging wilt thou be driven from every assembly; drive it from thyself, so that no one may drive thee away.
Some said to a pious man who was stricken with fever: “Ask for some conserve of roses from such a one.”
“Oh, friend,” he replied, “it were better to die in bitterness than to endure the affliction of his sour face.”
A wise man does not eat conserve of roses from the hand of one whose face has been soured by pride.
Pursue not that which thy heart desires, for the pampering of the body destroys the fires of life.
The gluttonous man bears the weight of his corpulence; if he obtain not food, he bears the weight of grief. It is better that the stomach should be empty than the mind.
In company with some religious mendicants I entered a date-grove in Busra. One of the party was a glutton. He, having girt his loins, climbed up a tree, and, falling headlong, died.
The headsman of the village asked, “Who killed this man?”
“Go softly, friend,” I answered; “he fell from a branch—’twas the weight of his stomach.”
The Amir of Tartary presented a silken robe to an elderly recluse, who, putting it on, kissed the hand of the messenger, and said: “A thousand praises to the king! Excellent is this splendid robe, but I prefer my own patched habit.”
If thou hast relinquished the world, sleep upon the bare ground—kiss it not before any one for the sake of a costly carpet.
To a poor man who had naught to eat but bread and onions, a foolish man remarked: “Go, wretched man, and bring some cooked meat from the public feast. Ask boldly and be not afraid of any one, for he who is modest must go without his share.”
Acting on this advice, the beggar put on his cloak and started off. The servants of the feast tore off his clothes and broke his arm.
Weeping, he cried: “Oh my soul! What remedy is there for one’s own actions? One seized by avarice becomes the seeker of his own misfortunes. After this, the bread and onions are good enough for me.”
A barley loaf procured by the exertions of one’s own arm is better than a loaf of flour from the table of the liberal.
A cat who lived in the house of an old woman of humble circumstances wandered to the palace of a noble, whose slaves repulsed the animal with arrows.
Bleeding from many wounds, the cat ran off in terror, thus reflecting: “Since I have escaped from the hands of those slaves, the mice in the ruined hut of the old woman are good enough for me.”
Honey is not worth the price of a sting; better it is to be content with the syrup of dates than expose oneself to that.
God is not pleased with him who is not contented with his lot.
A certain child having cut its teeth, the father bent his head in anxious thought and said: “How can I obtain the bread and food of which the child will now have need?”
“Be not alarmed,” his wife replied, “for, until our child shall die, He who gave him teeth will send him bread. A rich man provides for his slave; why should not He who created the slave do likewise? Thou hast not the trust in God that the purchased slave reposes in his master.”
I have heard that in olden times stones became silver in the hands of saints. Think not that this is contrary to reason—when thou hast become contented, silver and stones will be as one to thee.
Say to the devotee who worships kings that a king is poorer than a darwesh.
A dinar satisfies a beggar; Faridun was but half content with the whole of the kingdom of Persia.
A beggar free from care is better off than a troubled king.
The villager and his wife sleep more happily than the king ever did in his palace.
Though one be a king and the other a cotton-carder, when they sleep in death the night of both becomes day.
When thou seest a rich man filled with pride, go and give thanks, O thou who art poor, that thou, praise be to God! hast not the power to inflict injury upon any one.
A holy man built a house as high as his own stature. Some one said to him: “I know thee able to erect a better house than this.”
“Enough,” he cried, “what need have I of a lofty roof? This that I have built is high enough for a dwelling which I must leave at death.”
Set not thy house in the path of a flood,[28]O slave, for never will it be perfected.
A certain king died, and, having no heir, bequeathed the throne to a venerable sheikh.When the recluse heard the roar of the drums of empire, he desired no longer the corner of seclusion. He led the army to left and right, and became so strong and valiant that he filled the hearts of the brave with fear.
After he had slain a number of his enemies, some others combined together against him and reduced him to such straits in his fortified town that he sent a message to a pious man, saying: “Aid me with thy prayers, for the sword and arrow do not avail.”
The devotee laughed and said: “Why did he not content himself with half a loaf and his vigils? Did not the wealth-worshipping Korah[29]know that the treasure of safety lies in the corner of retirement?”
The generous man may attain to perfection although he possess not gold.
Dost think that if a mean man became a Korah his sordid nature would be changed?
If he who trades in liberality obtain not bread, his nature remains yet rich.
Generosity is the soil, and riches the seed that is sown; give, that the root may not be destitute of a branch.
Exert not thyself in the amassing of wealth, for evil is the smell of stagnant water; strive,rather, to be generous, for running water becomes a flood.
The miser who falls from position and wealth but seldom stands a second time upon his feet.
If thou be a precious jewel,[30]grieve not, for Time will not pass thee by; it is the brickbat by the wayside that goes unheeded. Shavings of gold that fall from the scissors are searched for with a candle.
Those who turn the reins of their desires from unlawful things have surpassed Rustam[31]and Sām[32]in valour.
None is so fearful of the enemy as thou, slave of thine own passions.
Thy earthly body is a city, containing both good and evil; thou art the King, and Reason is thy wise minister.
In this city, the headstrong men pursue their trades of avarice and greed; Resignation and Temperance are the citizens of fame and virtue; Lust and Wantonness the thieves and pick-pockets.
When the king shows favour to the wicked, how can the wise remain in peace?
The passions of evil, envy, and hatred are inherent in thee as is the blood of thy veins. If these thine enemies gained in strength they would turn their heads from thy rule and counsel; no resistance do they offer when they see the mailed fist of Reason.
Night-thieves and vagabonds wander not in the places where the patrols guard.
The chief who punishes not his enemy is bereft of power by the strength of the latter.
More on this point I will not speak—a word suffices to him who puts into practice what he reads.
Be silent, O thou who knowest many things! for he that speaketh little will be free from reproach on the Day of Judgment.
The man of many words is deaf; no counsel does he heed like silence.
When thou desirest continually to speak thou findest no sweetness in the speech of others.
Those who reflect upon right and wrong are better than triflers with ready answers.
He that speaks little thou dost never see ashamed; a grain of musk is better than a heap of mud.
Beware of the fool whose volume of words is as that of ten men—a hundred arrows shot and each one wide of the target. If thou art wise, shoot one, and that one straight.
Utter not slander before a wall—oft may it happen that behind are listening ears.
Enclose thy secrets within the city walls of thy mind, and beware that none may find the gates of thy city open.
A wise man sews up his mouth: the candle is burned by means of its wick.
Takash, king of Persia, imparted a secret to his slaves, adding, “Tell it not to any one.” For a year they kept the secret in their hearts; in one day it became diffused throughout the world.
The king ordered the slaves to be executed. One among them begged for mercy, saying: “Kill not thy slaves, for the fault was thine. Thou didst not dam up that secret when it was a spring: why seek to arrest its course now that it has become a flood?”
Entrust jewels to treasurers, but be the keeper of thine own secrets. Thou hast the power until the word be spoken; then, does it gain mastery over thee.
Speech is a demon confined in the well of the mind: leave it not free on thy palate and tongue. When the genii has escaped from the cage, no stratagem will bring him back.
There was once in Egypt a religious mendicant who never opened his mouth in speech. Wise men assembled around him from far and near, like moths around a candle.
One night, he reflected: “Merit is concealed beneath a silent tongue. If I remain thus silent, how will men know that I am learned?”
Therefore he indulged in speech, and his friends and enemies alike found him to be the most ignorant man in Egypt. His followers dispersed and his glory vanished. So he went on a journey and wrote on the wall of a mosque: “Had I but seen myself in the mirror of understanding I should not imprudently have torn the veil from off my mind. Although deformed, I exposed my figure in the thought that I was handsome.”
A little-talker has a high reputation.
Silence is dignity, and the concealer of blemishes.
Express not in haste the thoughts of thy mind, for thou canst reveal them when thou wilt.
The beasts are silent, and men are endowed with speech—idle talkers are worse than the beasts.
In the course of a dispute some one uttered improper words and was, in consequence, seized and nearly throttled.
“O thou conceited fellow!” said an experienced man, “if thy mouth had been closed like a bud, thou wouldst not have seen thy skirt torn like a flower.”
Dost thou not see that fire is nothing but a flame, which at any moment can be quenched with water?
If a man possess merit, the merit speaks for itself, not the owner of the merit.
If thou hast not the purest musk, claim not to possess it; if thou hast, it makes itself known by its perfume.
Speak no evil concerning the good or the wicked, for thus thou wrongest the former and makest an enemy of the latter.
Know that he who defames another revealeth his own faults.
If thou speak evil of any one, thou art sinful, even though what thou sayest be true.
To one who stretched his tongue in slander, a wise man said: “Speak not evil of any one before me, so that I may not think ill of thee. Although his dignity is lowered, thine own honour is not increased thereby.”
Some one said: “Thieving is better than back-biting.”
I replied: “That is strange to me. What good seest thou in thieving that thou givest it preference to slander?”
“Thieves,” he explained, “live by virtue oftheir strength and daring. The slanderer sins and reaps nothing.”
A fellow-student at Nezamiah displayed malevolence towards me, and I informed my tutor, saying: “Whenever I give more proper answers than he the envious fellow becomes offended.”
The professor replied: “The envy of thy friend is not agreeable to thee, but I know not who told thee that back-biting was commendable. If he seek perdition through the path of envy, thou wilt join him by the path of slander.”
When a child, unable to distinguish between right and wrong, I once resolved to fast, and a certain devout man thus taught me to perform my ablutions and devotions: “First,” he said, “repeat the name of God, according to the law of the Prophet; secondly, make a vow; and thirdly, wash the palms of the hands. Then wash thy nose and mouth three times and rub thy front teeth with thy forefinger, for a tooth-brush is forbidden when fasting. After that, throw three handfuls of water upon thy face; then wash thy hands and arms up to the elbows and repeat thy prayers by the telling of beads and the recital of the attributes and praises of God.Lastly, wipe again thy head and wash thy feet—thus end in the name of God.”
“No one,” added the old man, “knows the form of ablution better than myself. Dost thou not see that the elder of the village has become decrepit?”
Hearing these words, the elder cried: “O impious wretch! Didst thou not say that the use of a tooth-brush was unlawful in fasting?—I suppose, then, that slander is lawful? Before thou settest about a fast, wash first thy mouth of improper words.”
Some Sufis were sitting together in private, when one of them opened his mouth in slander.
“Didst thou ever make a crusade in Europe?” he was asked.
“Beyond the four walls of my house,” he replied, “I have never placed my feet.”
“Never have I met so unfortunate a man,” observed the questioner. “The infidel remains safe from his enmity, yet a Mussulman escapes not the violence of his tongue.”
In relation to an absent friend, two things are unlawful. The first is to squander his possessions; the second, to speak evil of his name.
Look not for good words from him who mentions the names of men with scorn, for behind thy back he says those things which he said to thee of others.
He only is wise who concerns himself with his own affairs and is indifferent to the world.
Three persons only is it permissible to slander. The first is a tyrannical king who oppresses his subjects; it is lawful to speak of his misdeeds so that people may beware of him. The second is he who is shameless; deem it not a sin to speak ill of such a one, for by his own actions are his faults revealed. The third is he that gives false weight and is a cheat; say what thou knowest of his evil ways.
Some one said to a pious man, “Knowest thou what such a one said concerning thee?”
“Silence!” he replied; “it is best not to know what an enemy said. Those who carry the words of an enemy are assuredly worse than the enemy himself. Only they convey the speech of an enemy to a friend who are in agreement with the enemy. Thou art worse than an enemy, for thou revealest what he said in private.”
A tale-bearer makes an old strife new; fly as far as thou art able from one who stirs up a dormant quarrel.
To be tied by the feet in a gloomy pit is better than to carry mischief from place to place.
A quarrel is like a fire which the tale-bearer feeds with fuel.
Faridun had a vazier who was discerning and of enlightened mind.
Some one went to the king one day and said: “The vazier is thy secret enemy. There is not a person in the kingdom to whom he has not lent out gold and silver on the condition that at thy death the loans shall be repaid.”
Regarding the vazier with threatening mien, the king exclaimed:
“Thou appearest before me in the guise of a friend; why art thou my enemy at heart?”
The vazier kissed the ground as he replied: “I desire, O renowned king, that all the people should be thy well-wishers. Since at thy death they must repay me, they will pray for thy long life from fear of me.”
Approving of this explanation, the king increased the dignities of the vazier, while no one was more ill-fated and changed in fortune than the tale-bearer.
It is not compatible with reason to kindle between two men the fire of strife and burn oneself in the flames.
That poor man is a king whose wife is obedient and chaste. Grieve not over the troubles of the day when at night the dispeller of thy sorrows is by thy side.
He has obtained his heart’s desire whose beloved is of the same mind as himself.
If a woman be pure and of kindly speech, regard neither her beauty nor her homeliness.
A woman of good nature is more to be desired than one of beauty, for amiability conceals a multitude of flaws. Beware the ill-tempered fairy. May heaven grant protection from a bad woman!
Prison is preferable to a house full of frowns; travelling is a joy to him whose house contains a woman of ugly mind.
Close the door of happiness upon that house whence the woman’s voice comes louder than her husband’s.
If thy wife take the road to the bazar, beat her, or sit thyself like a woman in thy house. Let her eyes be blind in the presence of strangers; when she goeth from thy house, let it be to the grave.
Take a new wife each Spring, O friend, for last year’s almanac serves no purpose.
To walk bare-footed is better than to wear tight shoes; the hardships of a journey are better than discord at home.
If thou desire that thy name should remain, train thy son in knowledge and wisdom, for if he possess not these thou diest obscure, with no one to commemorate thy name.
Teach him a handicraft, though thou be as rich as Korah. Place no hope in the power that thou hast—riches may go from thee.
A bag of silver and gold is emptied; the purse of an artisan remains filled.
Dost thou not know how Sadi attained to rank? He journeyed not over the plains, nor crossed the seas. In his youth he served under the yoke of the learned: God granted him distinction in after-life. And it is not long before he who serves obtains command.
A boy who suffers not at the hands of his teacher suffers at the hands of Time.
Make thy son good and independent, so that he may not be beholden to any man.
Protect him from evil associates; and pity him not if he bring ruin and destruction upon himself, for it is better that a vicious son should die before his father.
There was a certain young preacher who was learned and intelligent, a man of sanctity and a true worshipper. He was forcible in eloquenceand correct in grammar, but his articulation was so faulty that he could not properly repeat the letters of the alphabet.
I said to a holy man: “The youth has not got his front teeth!”
“Speak not thus,” he replied. “Thou hast discerned his fault, but thine eyes are closed to his many virtues. Thorns and roses grow together; why regardest thou only the thorns? He who is of bad nature sees nothing in the peacock but its ugly feet.”
Expose not the faults of others, for thereby art thou forgetful of thine own failings.
Whether I be good or evil, keep thou silent, for I am the bearer of my own profit and loss, and God is better acquainted with my character than thou.
I seek no reward from thee for my virtues so that I may not be afflicted by thee by reason of my sins.
For every good act God will bestow, not one, but ten rewards. If thou see one virtue in a man, do thou pass over the ten faults that he hath.
Are not all things created the product of the art of God?—black they are and white, handsome and deformed. Not every eye and eyebrow that thou seest is good: eat the kernel of the nut and throw the husk away.
I cannot give thanks to that Friend, for I know of none that are worthy. Every hair of my body is a gift from Him; how could I thank Him for every hair?
Praise be to the munificent Lord, Who from non-existence brought His creatures into being. Who can describe His goodness? All praises are encompassed by His glory.
See how from childhood to old age he has endowed thee with a splendid robe!
He made thee pure; therefore, be pure—unworthy it is to die impured by sin.
Let not the dust remain upon the mirror, for once grown dull it never again will polish.
When thou dost seek to gain the means of life, rely not upon the strength of thine own arms.
O self-worshipper! why lookest thou not to God, Who giveth power to thy hand?
If by thy striving thou doest aught of good, take not the credit to thyself; know it to be by the grace of God.
Thou standest not by thine own strength—from the Invisible art thou sustained each moment.
Sorrowed at the conduct of her son, who gave no ear to her advice, a woman brought to him the cradle in which once he slept, and said: “O weak in love and forgetful of the past! Wast thou not a weeping and helpless child, for whom through many nights I sacrificed my sleep? Thou hadst not then the strength thou hast to-day; thou couldst not ward the flies from off thy body. A tiny insect gave thee pain; to-day thou excellest amidst the strong. In the grave wilt thou again be thus, unable to repel the onslaughts of an ant. How, when the grave-worms eat the marrow of thy brain, wilt thou relight the Lamp of Intellect? Thou art as a blind man who seeth not the way, and knoweth not that a well lies in his path. If thou be grateful for thy sight, ’tis well; if not, then surely art thou blind. Thy tutor gave thee not the power of wisdom; by God was it implanted in thy nature. Had He withheld this gift from thee, truth would have appeared to thee as falsehood.”
For thee is set the bright moon in the sky by night, the world-illuminating sun by day.
Like a chamberlain, the heavens spread for thee the carpet of the Spring.
The wind and snow, the clouds and rain, the roaring thunder and the lightning glittering as a sword—all are His agents, obedient to His word, nourishing the seed that thou hast planted in the soil.
If thou be athirst, fret not; the clouds bear water upon their shoulders.
From the bee He giveth thee honey, and manna from the wind; fresh dates from the date-tree and the date-tree from a seed.
For thee are the sun and moon and the Pleiades; they are as lanterns upon the roof of thy house.
He bringeth roses from the thorn and musk from a pod; gold from the mine and green leaves from a withered stick.
With His own hands did He paint thine eye and eyebrows—one cannot leave one’s bosom friends to strangers.
Omnipotent is He, nourishing the delicate with His many bounties.
Render thanks each moment from thy heart, for gratitude is not the work of the tongue alone.
O God, my heart is blood, mine eyes are sore when I behold Thy indescribable gifts.
He knows not the value of a day of pleasure who has not seen adversity. Hard is the winter for the beggar—the rich man heeds it not. If thou art swift of foot, be thankful when thou lookest upon the lame.
What know they of the value of water who dwell upon the banks of the Jayhun? Ask it of them who are parched in the heat of the sun. What cares the Arab by the Tigris for the thirsty ones of the desert?
He knows the value of health who lost his strength in fever. How can the night be long to thee reclining in ease upon thy bed? Think of him who is racked with fever—the sick man knows the tediousness of the night.
At the sound of the drum the master awakens—what knows he how the watchman passed the night?
One night in winter Tughral passed by a Hindu sentinel, who was shivering like the starCanopus in the icy rain. Moved to pity, he said: “Thou shalt have my fur coat. Wait by the terrace and I will send it by the hand of a slave.”
On entering his palace he was met by a beautiful slave, at the sight of whom the poor sentinel passed from his mind. The fur coat slipped through the latter’s ears; through his ill-luck it never reached his shoulders.
The king slept through the night devoid of care; but what said the chief watchman to him in the morning?—
“Perhaps thou didst forget that ‘lucky man’ when thy hand was upon the bosom of thy slave. By thee the night was spent in tranquillity and joy; what knowest thou how the night has gone with us?”
They with the caravan bend their heads over the cauldron; what care they for them that toil on foot through the desert sand?
Tarry, O active youths, for old and feeble men are with the caravan. Well hast thou slept in the litter while the driver held the nose-string of the camel. What of the desert and mountains? what of the stones and the sand? Ask how it fares with them that lag behind.
A thief was arrested by a night-watchman and bound by the hands. Thus, crestfallen andafflicted, he remained. During the night he heard some one cry out in want.
“How long wilt thou bewail thy lot?” he asked. “Go, sleep, O wretched man! give thanks to God that the watchman has not tied thee by the hands.”
Bemoan not thine own misfortune when thou seest another more wretched than thyself.
Some one passed by a pious man whom he took for a Jew, and, therefore, struck him on the neck. The latter bestowed his robe upon the aggressor, who, becoming ashamed, remarked:
“I acted wrongly and thou hast forgiven me. But what occasion is this for a gift?”
“I stood not up in anger,” was the reply, “being thankful that I was not a Jew, as thou didst suppose.”
One left behind on the road wept, saying, “Who in this desert is more distressed than I?”
A pack-donkey answered: “O senseless man! how long wilt thou bewail the tyranny of Fate? Go, and give thanks that, though thou ridest not upon a donkey, thou art not a donkey upon which men ride.”
A theologian passed by a drunkard who had fallen by the wayside. Filled with pride at his own piety, he disdained even to regard him.
The young man raised his head and said: “Go, old man, and give thanks that thou art in the Divine favour—misfortune comes from pride. Laugh not when thou seest one in bonds lest thou likewise become involved. After all, is it not within the bounds of possibility that to-morrow thou mayest fall, like me, by the roadside?”
If with a mosque the heavens have befriended thee, revile not them that worship in the fire-temple.
O Mussulman! fold thy hands and render thanks that He has not bound the idolater’s thread about thy waist.
Turn to Him who guides the hand of Fate; blindness it is to look for help elsewhere.
At Sumanāt[34]I saw an ivory idol. It was set with jewels like the Manāt, and nothing more beautiful could have been devised. Caravans from every country brought travellers to its side; the eloquent from every clime made supplication before its lifeless figure.
“Why,” I pondered, “does a living being worship an inanimate object?”
To a fire-worshipper, who was a fellow-lodger and friend of mine, I said with gentleness: “O Brahmin! I am astonished at the doings of this place. All are infatuated with this feeble form; they are imprisoned in the well of superstition. No power has the idol to move its hands or feet; if thou throw it down, it cannot rise from its place. Dost thou not see that its eyes are of amber?—it were folly to seek faithfulness from the stony-eyed.”
The Brahmin was angered at my words; he became my enemy, and informed the idolaters of what I had said. Since to them the crooked road appeared straight, they saw the straight one crooked. Though a man be wise and intelligent, he is a fool in the eyes of the ignorant.
Like a drowning man, I was destitute of help; save in politeness, I saw no remedy. When the fool bears malice towards thee, safety lies in gentleness and resignation.
Therefore, I praised aloud the chief of the Brahmins, saying: “O old man! expounder of the Asta and Zend! I, too, am pleased with the figure of this idol. Its appearance was strange in my sight—of its nature I have no knowledge. Only recently have I arrived in this place, and a stranger can seldom distinguish between the evil and the good. Devotion by imitationis superstition: what reality is there in the form of this idol, for I am foremost among the worshippers?”
The face of the Brahmin glowed with joy as he said: “Thy question is reasonable and thy actions are good—whoever seeks for proofs arrives at his destination. Who but this idol can raise his hands to God? If thou wilt, tarry here to-night, so that to-morrow the mystery of this may become known to thee.”
The night was as long as the Day of Judgment; the fire-worshippers around me prayed without ablution. In the morning, they came again into the temple, and I was sick with anger and confused from lack of sleep. Suddenly, the idol raised its arm; and later, when the crowd had left, the Brahmin looked smilingly towards me, saying:
“I know that now thou wilt have no doubts; truth has become manifest, falsehood remaineth not.”
Seeing his ignorance thus increased, I shed hypocritical tears and cried: “I am sorry for what I said.”
At the sight of my tears the hearts of the infidels were softened; they ran towards me in service, and led me by the arms to the ivory idol, which was seated upon a golden chair set on a throne of teak. I kissed the hand of the little god—curses upon it and upon its worshippers!For a few days I posed as an infidel and discussed the Zend, like a Brahmin. When I became a guardian of the temple my joy was such that I could scarce control my feelings.
One night, I closed fast the door of the temple and, searching, discovered a screen of jewels and gold that went from the top of the throne to the bottom. Behind this screen the Brahmin high priest was devoutly engaged with the end of a rope in his hand. Then did it become known to me that when the rope was pulled the idol of necessity raised its arm.
Greatly confused at my presence, the Brahmin ran away in haste: I followed in hot pursuit and threw him headlong down a well, for I knew that, if he remained alive, he would seek to shed my blood. When the purpose of an evil man is revealed to thee, pull him up by the roots, otherwise will he not desire that thou shouldst live. The alarm being raised, I fled quickly from the land. When thou settest fire to a forest of canes, beware of the tigers, if thou art wise.
Whenever I supplicate at the shrine of the Knower of Secrets, the Indian puppet comes into my recollection—it throws dust on the pride of mine eyes. I know that I raise my hand, but not by virtue of mine own strength. Men of sanctity stretch not out their hands themselves: the Fates invisibly pull the strings.
O thou of whose life seventy years have passed, perhaps thou hast slept in negligence that thy days have been thrown to the winds. Worldly aims hast thou well pursued; no preparations hast thou made for the departure to that world to come.
On the Judgment Day, when the bazar of Paradise will be arrayed, rank will be assigned in accordance with one’s deeds.
If thou shouldst take a goodly stock of virtues, in proportion will be thy profit; if thou be bankrupt, thou wilt be ashamed.
If fifty years of thy life have passed, esteem as a precious boon the few that yet remain.
While still thou hast the power of speech, close not thy lips like the dead from the praise of God.
One night, in the season of youth, several of us young men sat together; we sang like bulbuls and raised a tumult in the street by our mirth.
An old man sat silent, apart; like a filbert-nut,his tongue was closed from speech. A youth approached him and said: “O old man! why sittest thou so mournfully in this corner? Come, raise thy head from the collar of grief and join us in our festivity.”
Thus did the old man reply: “When the morning breeze blows over the rose-garden, the young trees proudly wave their branches. It becomes not me to mingle in thy company, for the dawn of old age has spread over my cheeks. Thy turn it is to sit at this table of youth; I have washed my hands of youthful pleasures. Time has showered snow upon my crow-like wings; like the bulbul, I could not sport in the garden. Soon will the harvest of my life be reaped; for thee, the new green leaves are bursting. The bloom has faded from my garden; who makes a nosegay from withered flowers? I must weep, like a child, in shame for my sins, but cannot emulate his pleasures.”
Well has Luqman said: “It is better not to live at all than to live many years in sinfulness.” Better, too, may it be to close the shop in the morning than to sell the stock at a loss.
To-day, O youth, take the path of worship, for to-morrow comes old age. Leisure thou hast, and strength—strike the ball when the field is wide.[35]
I knew not the value of life’s day till now that I have lost it.
How can an old ass strive beneath its burden?—go thy way, for thou ridest a swift-paced horse.
A broken cup that is mended—what will its value be? Now that in carelessness the cup of life has fallen from thy hand, naught remains but to join the pieces.
Negligently hast thou let the pure water go; how canst thou now perform thy ablutions, except with sand?[36]
One night in the desert of Faid[37]my feet became fettered with sleep. A camel-driver awoke me, saying: “Arise; since thou heedest not the sound of the bell, perhaps thou desirest to be left behind! I, like thee, would sleep awhile, but the desert stretches ahead. How wilt thou reach the journey’s end if thou sleepest when the drum of departure beats?”
Happy are they who have prepared their baggage before the beat of the drum! The sleepers by the wayside raise not their heads and the caravan has passed out of sight.
He who was early awake surpassed all on the road; what availed it to awaken when the caravan had gone?
This is the time to sow the deeds of the harvest thou wouldst reap.
Go not bankrupt to the Resurrection, for it availeth not to sit in regret. By means of the stock that thou hast, O son, profit can be acquired; what profit accrueth to him who consumeth his stock himself?
Strive now, when the water reacheth not beyond thy waist; delay not until the flood has passed over thy head.
Heed the counsel of the wise to-day, for to-morrow will Nakir[38]question thee with sternness. Esteem as a privilege thy precious soul, for a cage without a bird has no value. Waste not thy time in sorrow and regret, for opportunity is precious and Time is a sword.
A certain man died and another rent his clothes in grief. Hearing his cries, a sage exclaimed: “If the dead man possessed the power he would tear his shroud by reason of thy wailing and would say: ‘Do not torment thyself on account of my affliction, since a day or two before thee I made ready for the journey. Perhaps thou hast forgotten thine own death, that my decease has made thee so distressed.’”
When he whose eyes are open to the truth scatters flowers over the dead, his heart burns not for the dead but for himself.
Why dost thou weep over the death of a child? He came pure, and he departed pure.
Tie now the feet of the bird of the soul; tarry not till it has borne the rope from thy hand.
Long hast thou sat in the place of another; soon will another sit in thy place.
Though thou be a hero or a swordsman, thou wilt carry away nothing but the shroud.
If the wild ass break its halter and wander into the desert its feet became ensnared in the sand. Thou, too, hast strength till thy feet go into the dust of the grave.
Since yesterday has gone and to-morrow has not come, take account of this one moment that now is.
In this garden of the world there is not a cypress that has grown which the wind of death has not uprooted.
A gold brick fell into the hands of a pious man and so turned his head that his enlightened mind became gloomy. He passed the whole night in anxious thought, reflecting: “This treasure will suffice me till the end of my life; no longer shall I have to bend my back before any one in begging. A house will I build, the foundation of which shall be of marble; the rafters of the ceiling shall be of aloe-wood. A special room will I have for my friends, and its door shall lead into a garden-house. Servants shall cook my food, and in ease will I nourish my soul. This coarsewoollen bed-cloth has killed me by its roughness; now will I go and spread a carpet.”
His imaginings made him crazy; the crab had pierced its claws into his brain. He forsook his prayers and devotions, and neither ate nor slept.
Unable to rest tranquil in one place, he wandered to a plain, with his head confused with the charms of his vain fancies. An old man was kneading mud upon a grave for the purpose of making bricks. Absorbed in thought for a while, the old man said:
“O foolish soul! hearken to my counsel. Why hast thou attached thy mind to that goldbrick when one day they will make bricks from thy dust? The mouth of a covetous man is too widely open that it can be closed again by one morsel. Take, O base man, thy hand from off that brick, for the river of thy avarice cannot be dammed up with a brick.
“So negligent hast thou been in the thought of gain and riches that the stock of thy life has become trodden underfoot. The dust of lust has blinded the eyes of thy reason—the simoon of desire has burned the harvest of thy life.”
Wipe the antimony of neglect from off thine eyes, for to-morrow wilt thou be reduced to antimony under the dust.
Thy life is a bird, and its name is Breath. When the bird has flown from its cage it cometh not back to captivity.
Be watchful, for the world lasts but a moment, and a moment spent with wisdom is better than an age with folly.
Why fix we thus our minds upon this caravanserai? Our friends have departed and we are on the road. After us, the same flowers will bloom in the garden, together will friends still sit.
When thou comest to Shiraz,[39]dost thou not cleanse thyself from the dust of the road?
Soon, O thou polluted with the dust of sin, wilt thou journey to a strange city. Weep, and wash with thy tears thy impurities away.
I remember that, in the time of my childhood, my father (may God’s mercy be upon him every moment!), bought me a gold ring. Soon after, a hawker took the ring from my hand in exchange for a date-fruit.
When a child knows not the value of a ring he will part with it for a sweetmeat. Thou, too, didst not recognise the value of life, but indulged thyself in vain pleasures.
In the Day of Judgment, when the good will attain to the highest dignity and mount from the bottommost depths of the earth to the Pleiades, thy head will hang forward in shame, for thy deeds will gather around thee.
O brother! be ashamed of the works of the evil, for ashamed wilt thou be at the Resurrection in the presence of the good.
Some one reared a wolf-cub, which, when grown in strength, tore its master to pieces. When the man was on the point of death a sage passed by and said: “Didst thou not know that thou wouldest suffer injury from an enemy thus carefully reared?”
How can we raise our heads from shame when we are at peace with Satan and at war with God?
Thy friend regards thee not when thou turnest thy face towards the enemy.
He who lives in the house of an enemy deems right estrangement from a friend.
Some one robbed the people of their money by cheating, and whenever he had accomplished one of his nefarious acts he cursed the Evil One, who said:
“Never have I seen such a fool! Thou hast intrigued with me secretly; why, therefore, dost thou raise the sword of enmity against me?”
Alas! that the angels should record against thee iniquities committed by the order of the Evil One!
Go forward when thou seest that the door of peace is open, for suddenly the door of repentance will be closed.
March not under a load of sin, O son, for a porter becomes exhausted on the journey.
The Prophet is the Mediator of him who follows the highway of his laws.
In the time of my childhood I went out with my father during the Id Festival, and in the tumult of the mob got lost. I cried in fear, when my father suddenly pulled my ear, and said: “Several times did I tell thee not to take thy hand from the skirt of my robe.”
A child knows not how to go alone; it is difficult to travel on any road unseen.
Thou, poor man, art as a child in thine endeavours; go, hold the skirt of the virtuous. Sit not with the base, but fasten thy hand to the saddle-straps of the pious.
Go, like Sadi, glean the corn of wisdom so that thou mayest store a harvest of divine knowledge.
In the month of July, a certain man stored his grain and set his mind at ease concerning it. One night, he became intoxicated and lighted a fire, which destroyed his harvest.
The next day he sat down to glean the ears of corn, but not a single grain remained in his possession. Seeing him thus afflicted, some one remarked: “If thou didst not wish for this misfortune, thou shouldst not in folly have burned thy harvest.”
Thou, whose years have been wasted in iniquity, art he who burns the harvest of his life.
Do not so, O my life! Sow the seeds of religion and justice, and throw not to the winds the harvest of a good name.
Knock at the door of forgiveness before thy punishment arrives, for lamentation beneath the lash is of no avail.
He who supplicates the Deity by night will not be shamed on the Day of Judgment.
If thou art wise, pray for forgiveness in the night for the sins that thou hast committed in the day.
What is thy fear if thou hast made thy peace with God? He closes not the door of forgiveness upon them that supplicate Him.
If thou art a servant of God, raise thy hands in prayer; and if thou be ashamed, weep in sorrow.
No one has stood upon His threshold whose sins the tears of repentance have not washed away.
Come, let us raise our hands in prayer, for to-morrow they will be powerless in the dust.
Think not that he who supplicates before the Door of Mercy, which is never shut, will turn away in hopelessness.
O Lord, regard us with compassion, for sin has entered among thy servants.
O gracious God! by Thy bounty have we been sustained; to Thy gifts and lovingkindness have we become habituated.
Since in this life Thou hast ennobled us above all things created, hope of similar glory have we in the world to come.
O God, humiliate me not by reason of Thy greatness; make me not ashamed by reason of my sins.
Let no one prevail over me, for it is better that I should suffer punishment from Thy hand.
Let it suffice that I am ashamed in Thy presence; make me not ashamed before my fellow-men.
If the shadow of Thy mercy fall upon me, mean is the dignity of the sky before mine eyes.
If Thou give to me a crown, I will raise my head: exalt me, so that no one may cast me down.
I tremble when I recall the prayer of one distracted in the temple of Mecca. Thus did he lament:
“Throw me not down, for no one will hold my hand to succour me. Whether Thou call me or drive me away, my head has no resting-place but Thy threshold. Thou knowest that I am poor and helpless; I am oppressed by my evil passions. Keep me from pollution, and forgive my sins. Close not mine eyes from the face of happiness; bind not my tongue when I recite the creed. Place the lamp of Faith before my way; make my hand short from doing evil. From the sun of Thy goodness one ray suffices, for except in Thy rays I am not seen. Why should I weep because of my condition? If I am weak, my refuge is strong.”
A fire-worshipper turned his back upon the world and girt up his loins in the service of anidol. After some years he was overtaken by misfortune and wept at the feet of the idol, saying: “I am afflicted—help me, O idol! I am weary—have pity upon me.”
Long did he continue in his lamentation, but no benefit did he derive. How can an idol accomplish the desires of a man when of itself it cannot drive away a fly?
The idolater frowned and said: “O thou, whose feet are bound to error! with folly have I worshipped thee for years. Help me to fulfil my wishes, or I will ask them of God.”
While his face was yet besmeared with the dust of the idol’s feet, the Almighty fulfilled his object.
A pious man was astonished when he heard this. Then did a voice from heaven speak into his ear, saying: “This old man prayed before the idol, but his prayer was not heard. If at the shrine of God he were likewise spurned, what difference would there be between an idol and Him Who is eternal?”