Was it from the favour of the vernal attributes, or from a baneful autumnal attribute?”
این از آن لطف بهاریات بود ** یا ز پاییزی پر آفات بود
He said, “This (rain) was for the purpose of allaying the grief that is upon the race of Adam in calamity.
گفت این از بهر تسکین غم است ** کز مصیبت بر نژاد آدم است
If man were to remain in that fire (of grief), much ruin and loss would befall.
گر بر آن آتش بماندی آدمی ** بس خرابی در فتادی و کمی
This world would at once become desolate: (all) selfish desires would go forth from men.”2065
این جهان ویران شدی اندر زمان ** حرصها بیرون شدی از مردمان
Forgetfulness (of God), O beloved, is the pillar (prop) of this world: (spiritual) intelligence is a bane to this world.
استن این عالم ای جان غفلت است ** هوشیاری این جهان را آفت است
Intelligence belongs to that (other) world, and when it prevails, this world is overthrown.
هوشیاری ز آن جهان است و چو آن ** غالب آید پست گردد این جهان
Intelligence is the sun and cupidity the ice; intelligence is the water and this world the dirt.
هوشیاری آفتاب و حرص یخ ** هوشیاری آب و این عالم وسخ
A little trickle (of intelligence) is coming from yonder world, that cupidity and envy may not roar (too loudly) in this world.
ز آن جهان اندک ترشح میرسد ** تا نغرد در جهان حرص و حسد
If the trickle from the Unseen should become greater, in this world neither virtue nor vice will be left.2070
گر ترشح بیشتر گردد ز غیب ** نی هنر ماند در این عالم نه عیب
This (topic) has no bound. Go to the starting-point, go back to the tale of the minstrel.
این ندارد حد سوی آغاز رو ** سوی قصهی مرد مطرب باز رو
The remainder of the story of the old harper and the explanation of its issue (moral)
بقیهی قصهی پیر چنگی و بیان مخلص آن
That minstrel by whom the world was filled with rapture, from whose voice wondrous phantasies grew (arose in the minds of those who heard him),
مطربی کز وی جهان شد پر طرب ** رسته ز آوازش خیالات عجب
At whose song the bird of the soul would take wing, and at whose note the mind of the spirit would be distraught—
از نوایش مرغ دل پران شدی ** وز صدایش هوش جان حیران شدی
When time passed and he grew old, from weakness the falcon, his soul, became a catcher of gnats.
چون بر آمد روزگار و پیر شد ** باز جانش از عجز پشهگیر شد
His back became bent like the back of a wine-jar, the brows over his eyes like a crupper-strap.2075
پشت او خم گشت همچون پشت خم ** ابروان بر چشم همچون پالدم
His charming soul-refreshing voice became ugly and worth nothing to any one.
گشت آواز لطیف جان فزاش ** زشت و نزد کس نیرزیدی به لاش
The tone that had (once) been the envy of Zuhra (Venus) was now like the bray of an old donkey.
آن نوای رشک زهره آمده ** همچو آواز خر پیری شده
Truly, what sweet one is there that did not become unsweet, or what roof that did not become a carpet?—
خود کدامین خوش که او ناخوش نشد ** یا کدامین سقف کان مفرش نشد
Except the voices of holy men in their breasts, from the repercussion of whose breath is the blast of the trumpet (of Resurrection).
غیر آواز عزیزان در صدور ** که بود از عکس دمشان نفخ صور
(Theirs is) the heart by which (all) hearts are made drunken, (theirs is) the nonexistence whereby these existences of ours are made existent.2080
اندرونی کاندرونها مست از اوست ** نیستی کاین هستهامان هست از اوست
He (the saint) is the amber (magnet) of (all) thought and of every voice; he is the (inward) delight of revelation and inspiration and (Divine) mystery.
کهربای فکر و هر آواز او ** لذت الهام و وحی و راز او
When the minstrel grew older and feeble, through not earning (anything) he became indebted for a single loaf of bread.
چون که مطرب پیرتر گشت و ضعیف ** شد ز بیکسبی رهین یک رغیف
He said, “Thou hast given me long life and respite: O God, Thou hast bestowed (many) favours on a vile wretch.
گفت عمر و مهلتم دادی بسی ** لطفها کردی خدایا با خسی
For seventy years I have been committing sin, (yet) not for one day hast Thou withheld Thy bounty from me.
معصیت ورزیدهام هفتاد سال ** باز نگرفتی ز من روزی نوال
I (can) earn nothing: to-day I am Thy guest, I will play the harp for Thee, I am Thine.”2085
نیست کسب امروز مهمان توام ** چنگ بهر تو زنم آن توام
He took up his harp and went in search of God to the graveyard of Medina, crying “Alas!”
چنگ را برداشت و شد الله جو ** سوی گورستان یثرب آه گو