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, colour and perfume,
Am I not after all the grass of his garden?
I am the slave of a bountiful lord,
Cherished from old by his liberality.
Whether I possess virtue or not
I hope for grace from the Lord
Although I possess no property
No capital to offer as obedience.
He knows the remedy for the slave
To whom no support remains.
It is customary that the owner gives a writ
Of emancipation to an old slave.
O God, who hast adorned the universe,
Be bountiful to thy old slave.-
Sa-di, take the road to the Ka-bah of submission.
O man of God, follow the way of God.
Unlucky is he who turns his head
Away from this door for he will find no other door.
Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 48
Saadi Shirazi
(1)
Poem topics: away, beauty, hope, fresh, head, offer, garden, support, capital, universe, colour, follow, door, god, grass, slave, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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