Saadi

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Saadi On Friends and Enemies I am displeased with the company of friends To whom my bad qualities appear to be good; They fancy my faults are virtues and perfection; My thorns they believe to be rose and jessamine. Say! where is the bold and quick enemy To make me aware of my defects? translated by Edward S. Holden The Grass of God's Garden I saw bouquets of fresh roses Tied upon a cupola of grass. I asked: "What is despicable grass To sit also in the line of the roses?" The grass wept and said: "Hush! Companionship does not obliterate nobility. Although I have no beauty, color, and perfume, Am I not after all the grass of God's garden? translated by Edward S. Holden Saadi at the Grave of His Child Whilst I was at Sanaa I lost a child— why talk of the blow which then fell upon my head? In this garden (the world) no cypress ever reached its full stature that the blast of Destiny did not tear its trunk from the root. It is not wonderful that roses should spring out of the earth when so many rose-like forms sleep within its clay. In my melancholy and distraction, whilst dwelling on his image, I erected a stone over the spot where he reposeth. In terror of that place, so dark and narrow, my color paled, and my senses failed me: When from that disturbance my understanding came back to me, a voice from my darling child struck mine ear— "If that dark spot make thee feel thy desolation, recall thy reason, and come out into the light. "Wouldst thou make the night of the tomb as bright as day, light it up with the lamp of good works." From the Bustan (translated by Samuel Robinson) Wealth Of what utility are the rich, If they are clouds of August, And do not rain upon any one; Or the foundation os the sun, And do not give light to anyone; Or are mounted on the steed of power, And never make a charge; Advance not on foot in the service of God; Bestow not a direm without weighing it and distressing you; Watch over their wealth drudgingly, And leave it grudgingly? And the sages have said, that the silver of the miser comes up from the ground at the same moment that he himself goes down into the ground. One brings his money within his grasp anxiously and laboriously, and another comes and carries it away quietly and painlessly. ” One night, as I lay awake, I heard a moth say to a candle, “I am thy lover; if I burn, it is proper. Why dost thou weep?” The candle replied, “O, my friend! Love is not thy business. Thou fliest from before a flame; I stand erect until I am entirely consumed. If the fire of love has burned thy wings, regard me, who from head to foot must be destroyed.” Before the night had passed, someone put the candle out, exclaiming, “Such is the end of love!” Grieve not over the grave of one who lost his life for his friend; be glad of heart, for he was the chosen of Him. I thou art a lover, wash not thy head of the sickness of love; like Sa’di, wash thy hands of selfishness. A devoted lover holds not back his hand from the object of his affections though arrows and stones may rain upon his head. Be cautious; if thou goest down to the sea, give thyself up the storm. ” From the Gulistan (translated by Samuel Robinson)

On Friends and Enemies

I am displeased with the company of friends
To whom my bad qualities appear to be good;
They fancy my faults are virtues and perfection;
My thorns they believe to be rose and jessamine.
Say! where is the bold and quick enemy
To make me aware of my defects?
translated by Edward S. Holden

The Grass of God's Garden

I saw bouquets of fresh roses
Tied upon a cupola of grass.
I asked: "What is despicable grass
To sit also in the line of the roses?"
The grass wept and said: "Hush!
Companionship does not obliterate nobility.
Although I have no beauty, color, and perfume,
Am I not after all the grass of God's garden?
translated by Edward S. Holden

Saadi at the Grave of His Child

Whilst I was at Sanaa I lost a child—
why talk of the blow which
then fell upon my head?
In this garden (the world)
no cypress ever reached its full stature
that the blast of Destiny did not tear
its trunk from the root.
It is not wonderful that roses should spring out of the earth
when so many rose-like forms sleep within its clay.
In my melancholy and distraction, whilst dwelling on his image,
I erected a stone over the spot where he reposeth.
In terror of that place, so dark and narrow,
my color paled, and my senses failed me:
When from that disturbance
my understanding came back to me,
a voice from my darling child struck mine ear—
"If that dark spot make thee feel thy desolation, recall thy
reason, and come out into the light.
"Wouldst thou make the night of the tomb as bright as day,
light it up with the lamp of good works."
From the Bustan (translated by Samuel Robinson)

Wealth

Of what utility are the rich,
If they are clouds of August,
And do not rain upon any one;
Or the foundation os the sun,
And do not give light to anyone;
Or are mounted on the steed of power,
And never make a charge;
Advance not on foot in the service of God;
Bestow not a direm without weighing it and distressing you;
Watch over their wealth drudgingly,
And leave it grudgingly?
And the sages have said, that the silver of the miser comes up
from the ground at the same moment that he himself goes
down into the ground. One brings his money within his grasp
anxiously and laboriously, and another comes and carries it
away quietly and painlessly.
” One night, as I lay awake, I heard a moth say to a candle, “I
am thy lover; if I burn, it is proper. Why dost thou weep?”
The candle replied, “O, my friend! Love is not thy business.
Thou fliest from before a flame; I stand erect until I am entirely
consumed. If the fire of love has burned thy wings, regard me,
who from head to foot must be destroyed.”
Before the night had passed, someone put the candle out,
exclaiming, “Such is the end of love!”
Grieve not over the grave of one who lost his life for his friend;
be glad of heart, for he was the chosen of Him.
I thou art a lover, wash not thy head of the sickness of love; like
Sa’di, wash thy hands of selfishness.
A devoted lover holds not back his hand from the object of his
affections though arrows and stones may rain upon his head.
Be cautious; if thou goest down to the sea, give thyself up the
storm. ”
From the Gulistan (translated by Samuel Robinson)