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His friend, who lay inert upon the bed; At dawn they found that he who watched had died, And lo! The sick man had been cured instead. Can easily be bent towards the Truth; Old reprobates a sterner fate require, For they will straighten only in the fire. Never make friends with an elephant-man; For an elephant-man has a pet to keep, Eating and drinking, awake or asleep, And if you are friendly one day you’ll see, When the elephant-keeper comes to tea, That, not in the least by chance or whim, The elephant will accompany him. Then as soon as the animals’ through the door You’ll notice cracks in the parlour floor, And however much you may frown or stare He’ll sit across-legged on an easy chair, And swill your tea with his cumbrous trunk Till you think ‘My Word, what a lot he’s drunk.’ And if you should offer a mild reproof He’ll be up from your table and off with your roof… In your sorrows you’ll only sink deeper and deeper If you ever make friends with an elephant-keeper. For a race or a hunt, Or to ride at the Front, Remember fat cattle Get blown in a battle; But a lean stringy horse Will stand up round a Course, And will never give in – Although he’s too thin You can back him to win. ‘Do you think that your ears or my horns are the best?’ The Ass to this sally replied: ‘Since a child My friends have described me as humble and mild, But if I had horns ’twould no longer be true – And I shudder to think what would happen to you.’ When hewn in some deep mine; Gold can buy you many things Including warmth and wine; But anyone amassing it In honesty must own There’s hardly any difference ’Twixt a nugget and a stone. In fact, Beloved, just like you, Although he merits no such thing Will live, as I do, like a King. I shuffled down the street, Till someone cried: ‘There stumping goes A man who has no feet.’ Then was I instantly aware That I from pain was free, And thanked God, the Compassionate, for all He’d given me. Though nothing stirs in sight, When traversing the desert Do not forget your gun. Although the plain stretched wide, Good men before have died, Who failed to see a leopard Curled sleeping in the sun. Dig deep, and sow and seed; do all you can To pay the debt you owe your country’s soil – Then you need not depend on any man. And finds the bred of idleness too sweet, Is like a Pedagogue who hears afar His pupils playing leapfrog in the street. Tenderly and slow, They nourish garden lawns – and make The desert thistles grow. Whereas my heart is scorched by passion’s fire; Both ways afflicted, whither can I turn? In floods I perish, or in flames I burn. It matters not whereon their bodies lie, On throne or floor; For God is merciful – He ne’er forsakes The true in heart; and to His Kingdom takes The meek, the poor. As snow becomes a mountain, Or as becomes the hush at dawn The music of a fountain. No man has ever yet got lost Who in his heart would say: ‘In God alone I put my trust – He maketh straight the way’. Of Youth, and Hope, and Beauty, As if to chant the praise of Spring Were your appointed duty; Too soon the Owl of Death will come With sudden haunting cry, Too soon we each must seek our home In the cold earth to lie. A faded mantle wears; Patience, the exile sighed, Is bitter as our tears; Sour is its root Sa‘di to them replied – But lo! How sweet the fruit At last it bears. (Extracted from ‘Poems from the Persian’)
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