Chapter I: Story of the Tyrannical King and the Villager

In the confines of Ghor an oppressor held sway,Who by force, took the villagers' asses away.The asses, unfed, under burdens of weight,After two days of hardship, submitted to Fate.When Fortune has wealth on a caitiff bestowed,On the heart of the poor she deposits a load.If a self-lover's roof should some altitude show,He throws rubbish and pisses on roofs that are low.I have heard that intending to hunt, round about,The tyrannical ruler one morning set out.In pursuit of his quarry he galloped amain,And night overtook him, remote from his train.Unattended, he knew not the place nor the way,And was forced, for the night, in a village to stay.He saw a fleet ass, that was fit for the road,That was willing and strong and could bear a good load.A man with a bone in his hand was so thrashingAnd beating the beast, that its bones he was smashing.The king waxing wroth, said, " Oh youth! I beseech !You are harsh beyond bounds to this brute without speech;Because you have strength, do not show yourself vain !And from testing your might on the fallen, refrain!"The ignorant swain did not like this remark,And shouting with awe at the monarch, said, "Hark !In adopting this measure I have an intent;Since you know not, be off! and pursue your own bent!Many men, at first sight, whom you would not excuse,On inquiry, are found to be right in their views."The reproof he administered ruffled the king ;He said to him, " Come ! are you right in this thing ?I'm afraid you're a stranger to wisdom, my lad :You do not seem drunk, but you look as if mad."He smiled, saying, " Ignorant Turk, not a word !The story of Khizir you may not have heard?Not a man called him mad, no one said he was drunk,Then why were the poor people's boats by him sunk?"The monarch replied, "Oh tyrannical one !Do you know why that action by Khizir was done?A tyrannical man had his residence there,From whom, people's hearts were an ocean of care.At his actions, the isles in lamenting engaged;A world at his hand, like the ocean enraged.Out of policy Khizir the boats all destroyed,That they by the tyrant might not be employed.To have property, damaged, within your control,Is better than that, with your enemy whole."The peasant of luminous mind smiled, and said :—"Oh Chief! then, the truth is with me on this head.I break not, from folly, the legs of the ass,But because of a tyrant's oppression, alas !A lame ass in this place, though enduring Care's sting,Is better than that, bearing loads for the king.That he seized all the boats, you've omitted to say,And acquired a bad name, that will haunt him for aye.Oh fie ! such a king and the State where he reigns !For a curse on his head till the Judgment remains.Upon his own body, the tyrant works ill,And not on the poor who submit to his will.In To-morrow's assembly for all, when he stands,He will seize on his collar and beard with his hands;On his neck the vast load of his crimes he will place,And he wont raise his head on account of disgrace.His burden the ass carries now, I admit;How on him, on that day, will the ass's load sit?If you ask for the truth, then, ill-fated is he,Who in others' distress his own comfort can see.But a few days of pleasure to him will pertain,Whose gladness depends on his fellow-men's pain.If that heart without life did not rise, it were good ;For because of him, men sleep in sorrowful mood."The king heard it all but no answer expressed ;Tied his horse, laid his head on his Numda, to rest.He was wakeful all night, counting stars in the skies ;From passion and thinking, sleep closed not his eyes.When he heard the cock crow, at the dawning of day,The distress of the night quickly vanished away.The horsemen, all night, kept patrolling around,And at dawn saw his horse's hoof-prints on the ground.They beheld the king riding his steed on the plain;To his presence, on foot, ran the whole of his train.In devotion they bowed their heads low on the sand ;From the surging of troops, like the sea was the land.The courtiers sit down and refreshments demand;They ate and a festive assembly they planned.When the sound of the mirth on the king had effect,On the swain of last night, he began to reflect.He commanded, they searched for and bound him apace;At the foot of the throne, threw him down in disgrace.The headsman unsheathed his dire sabre, so keen ;By the doomed one, no way of escape could be seen.He reckoned that moment of life as his last,And boldly disclosed what within his mind passed.—Don't you see, when the knife to the summit is laid,That the tongue of the pen far more fluent is made.When one knows that he cannot escape from his foe,From his quiver, the arrows he, fearless, will strew.—He raised up his head in despair, and thus said :—"In the thorp you can't sleep, on the night you are dead.On account of the heartlessness seen in your age,The world knows the violence in which you engage.I alone do not curse your tyrannical reign,But the people; of them, see in me but one slain !It is strange that my words should have rankled your will;Kill away, if the whole of mankind you can kill !And if my reproaches come harsh to your mind,With justice, uproot all oppression you find!Your work is to drive all injustice away;Not, a helpless and innocent person, to slay.When you practise injustice, the hope do not holdThat your name through the world will with goodness be told.I cannot conceive how you manage to sleep ;For those you oppressed have had vigils to keep.Know! when will a monarch be honestly praised,In whose court, all the people have flatt'ry's voice raised ?What avails the assembly's demonstrative praise !While spinning their wheels, people malisons raise?"The tyrannical king, to this lecture inclined ;From the maze of neglect, he recovered his mind.In the village, where Fortune the truth to him showed,He the office of chief on that peasant bestowed.Such wisdom and manners, you cannot procureFrom the learned, as you can from the fault-finding boor.From foes hear your qualities; not from allies ;For whatever you do will seem good in their eyes.Those singing your praises are friends, but in name;And those who reprove you, true friendship can claim.A sour-visaged person much better rebukes,Than a good-natured friend, who has sweet-smiling looks.Than this, none can tender you better advice ;And if you have wisdom, a hint will suffice.