چینیان صد رنگ از شه خواستند ** پس خزینه باز کرد آن ارجمند

The Chinese requested the King to give them a hundred colours: then that excellent (king) opened the treasury.

هر صباحی از خزینه رنگها ** چینیان را راتبه بود از عطا

Every morning, by (his) bounty, the colours were dispensed from the treasury to the Chinese.

رومیان گفتند نی نقش و نه رنگ ** در خور آید کار را جز دفع زنگ‌‌

The Greeks said, “No tints and pictures are proper for our work, (nothing is needed) except to remove the rust.”

در فرو بستند و صیقل می‌‌زدند ** همچو گردون ساده و صافی شدند 3475

They shut the door and went on burnishing: they became clear and pure like the sky.

از دو صد رنگی به بی‌‌رنگی رهی است ** رنگ چون ابر است و بی‌‌رنگی مهی است‌‌

There is a way from many-colouredness to colourlessness: colour is like the clouds, and colourlessness is a moon.

هر چه اندر ابر ضو بینی و تاب ** آن ز اختر دان و ماه و آفتاب‌‌

Whatsoever light and splendour you see in the clouds, know that it comes from the stars and the moon and the sun.

چینیان چون از عمل فارغ شدند ** از پی شادی دهلها می‌‌زدند

When the Chinese had finished their work, they were beating drums for joy.

شه در آمد دید آن جا نقشها ** می‌‌ربود آن عقل را و فهم را

The King entered and saw the pictures there: that (sight) was robbing him of his wits and understanding.

بعد از آن آمد به سوی رومیان ** پرده را بالا کشیدند از میان‌‌ 3480

After that, he came towards the Greeks: they drew up the intervening curtain.

عکس آن تصویر و آن کردارها ** زد بر این صافی شده دیوارها

The reflexion of those (Chinese) pictures and works (of art) struck upon these walls which had been made pure (from stain).

هر چه آن جا دید اینجا به نمود ** دیده را از دیده خانه می‌‌ربود

All that he had seen there (in the Chinese room) seemed more beautiful here: ’twas snatching the eye from the socket.

رومیان آن صوفیانند ای پدر ** بی‌‌ز تکرار و کتاب و بی‌‌هنر

The Greeks, O father, are the Súfís: (they are) without (independent of) study and books and erudition,

لیک صیقل کرده‌‌اند آن سینه‌‌ها ** پاک از آز و حرص و بخل و کینه‌‌ها

But they have burnished their breasts (and made them) pure from greed and cupidity and avarice and hatreds.

آن صفای آینه وصف دل است ** کاو نقوش بی‌‌عدد را قابل است‌‌ 3485

That purity of the mirror is the attribute of the heart (which) receives the infinite form.

صورت بی‌‌صورت بی‌‌حد غیب ** ز آینه‌‌ی دل تافت بر موسی ز جیب‌‌

That Moses (the perfect saint) holds in his bosom the formless infinite form of the Unseen (reflected) from the mirror of his heart.

گر چه آن صورت نگنجد در فلک ** نه به عرش و فرش و دریا و سمک‌‌

Although that form is not contained in Heaven, nor in the empyrean nor the earth nor the sea nor the Fish,

ز آن که محدود است و معدود است آن ** آینه‌‌ی دل را نباشد حد بدان‌‌

Because (all) those are bounded and numbered—(yet is it contained in the heart): know that the mirror of the heart hath no bound.

عقل اینجا ساکت آمد یا مضل ** ز آنکه دل با اوست یا خود اوست دل‌‌

Here the understanding becomes silent or (else) it leads into error, because the heart is with Him (God), or indeed the heart is He.

عکس هر نقشی نتابد تا ابد ** جز ز دل هم با عدد هم بی‌‌عدد 3490

The reflexion of every image shines unto everlasting from the heart alone, both with plurality and without.

تا ابد هر نقش نو کاید بر او ** می‌‌نماید بی‌‌حجابی اندر او

Unto everlasting every new image that falls on it (the heart) is appearing therein without any veil.

اهل صیقل رسته‌‌اند از بوی و رنگ ** هر دمی بینند خوبی بی‌‌درنگ‌‌

They that burnish (their hearts) have escaped from (mere) scent and colour: they behold Beauty at every moment without tarrying.

نقش و قشر علم را بگذاشتند ** رایت عین الیقین افراشتند

They have relinquished the form and husk of knowledge, they have raised the banner of the eye of certainty.

رفت فکر و روشنایی یافتند ** نحر و بحر آشنایی یافتند

Thought is gone, and they have gained light: they have gained the throat (core and essence) and the sea (ultimate source) of gnosis.

مرگ کاین جمله از او در وحشت‌‌اند ** می‌‌کنند این قوم بر وی ریشخند 3495

Death, of which all these (others) are sore afraid, this people (the perfect Súfís) are holding in derision.

کس نیابد بر دل ایشان ظفر ** بر صدف آید ضرر نی بر گهر

None gains the victory over their hearts: the hurt falls on the oyster-shell, not on the pearl.