Chapter I: The Fakir and the King
A Fakir, I have heard, who was holy and kind,Vexed the soul of a king, who was haughty in mind.Very likely, a truth from his tongue had transpiredConcerning his pride, and his fury was fired.From the Court to a dungeon he sent him away ;For the arm of a monarch is able to slay.A friend sought his cell and, in secret, thus spoke :—"The sayings you uttered could only provoke.""Devotion's fulfilling God's orders," he said,"I fear not the dungeon—an hour and 'tis fled."The moment this secret, in secret got vent,Straight back to the ears of the monarch it went.With a smile, he replied, " His assumption is wrong ;Does he know that he'll die in that dungeon ere long ?"This message, a serf to the holy man gave;He replied, " Give this answer to Cyrus, oh slave!The world, too, for more than an hour won't remain—Grief and Joy, in the holy no footing obtain.If you grant me release, you'd not make me feel glad ;If my head you should sever, my heart won't be sad.If to you troops and empire and treasure pertain,And I have my children, hopes blighted, and pain,When we come in our wand'ring to Death's open gate,Together, as equals, a week we shall wait.On the realm of 'five days,' do not let your heart dwell !Do not foolishly burn your own body in hell!Did not rulers before you more treasure obtain !By injustice they burned up the world in their reign.So live ! that your name may be mentioned with praise ;That when dead, on your tomb none may malisons raise.A law to bad customs you should not apply!For, 'A curse on that nature depraved !' they will cry.And if the strong man to dominion should rise,Won't the dust of the grave keep him down when he dies?"For Oppression's sad victim, the tyrant decreedThat his innocent tongue from its root should be freed.The truth-recognizing philosopher said :" About this, too, you mention, I cherish no dread.My having no tongue will not cause me a woe;For I'm sure, what's unspoken, the Maker will know.If want or oppression I'm fated to bear,And at last I am happy, why foster a care?The season of grief is a bridal to you,If, when your end comes, you have gladness in view."
Words in this poem
- fakir n.
- An Oriental religious ascetic or begging monk. [Ar. faqir poor.]
- haughty a.
- High; lofty; bold. [OE. hautein, F. hautain, fr. haut high, OF. also halt, fr. L. altus. See Altitude.]
- dungeon n.
- A close, dark prison, commondonjon or keep of a castle, these being used as prisons. [OE. donjoun highest tower of a castle, tower, prison, F. donjon tower or platform in the midst of a castle, turret, or closet on the top of a house, a keep of a]
- spoke n.
- The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- dwell v. i.
- To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Chapter I: The Fakir and the King is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Garden of Fragrance: being a complete translation of the Bostan of Sadi from the original Persian into English verse, by G. S. Davie (London: Kegan Paul, Trench and Co., 1882), Internet Archive, the G. S. Davie translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Saadi, Chapter I: The Fakir and the King, in The Garden of Fragrance (1882), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/saadi-bostan/1-41.html, id L29546.
Form and metre
Chapter I: The Fakir and the King is 44 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets. The metre is anapaestic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%).
See other poems in rhyming couplets, other poems in anapaestic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJIIKKLLMMNNOOPPQQRRSSTTUU kindA · mindA · transpiredB · firedB · awayC · slayC · spokeD · provokeD · saidE · fledE · ventF · wentF · wrongG · longG · gaveH · slaveH · remainI · obtainI · gladJ · sadJ · pertainI · painI · gateK · waitK · dwellL · hellL · obtainM · reignM · praiseN · raiseN · applyO · cryO · riseP · diesP · decreedQ · freedQ · saidR · dreadR · woeS · knowS · bearT · careT · youU · viewU
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against anapaestic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| A Fakir, I have heard, who was holy and kind, | 12 | ·/˘·····/˘·· |
| Vexed the soul of a king, who was haughty in mind. | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| Very likely, a truth from his tongue had transpired | 13 | /˘/˘······˘/˘ |
| Concerning his pride, and his fury was fired. | 12 | ˘/˘····/˘·/˘ |
| From the Court to a dungeon he sent him away ; | 12 | ·····/˘···˘/ |
| For the arm of a monarch is able to slay. | 12 | ·····/··/˘·· |
| A friend sought his cell and, in secret, thus spoke :— | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| "The sayings you uttered could only provoke." | 12 | ·/˘·/˘˘·/˘˘/ |
| "Devotion's fulfilling God's orders," he said, | 11 | ˘/˘˘/˘·/˘·· |
| "I fear not the dungeon—an hour and 'tis fled." | 12 | ····/˘·/˘··· |
| The moment this secret, in secret got vent, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| Straight back to the ears of the monarch it went. | 11 | ·······/··· |
| With a smile, he replied, " His assumption is wrong ; | 12 | ····˘/·˘/˘·· |
| Does he know that he'll die in that dungeon ere long ?" | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| This message, a serf to the holy man gave; | 11 | ·/˘····/˘·· |
| He replied, " Give this answer to Cyrus, oh slave! | 12 | ·˘/··/˘·/˘·· |
| The world, too, for more than an hour won't remain— | 12 | ·······/˘·˘/ |
| Grief and Joy, in the holy no footing obtain. | 12 | ·····/˘·/˘˘/ |
| If you grant me release, you'd not make me feel glad ; | 12 | ····˘/······ |
| If my head you should sever, my heart won't be sad. | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| If to you troops and empire and treasure pertain, | 12 | ·····/˘·/˘˘/ |
| And I have my children, hopes blighted, and pain, | 11 | ····/˘·/˘·· |
| When we come in our wand'ring to Death's open gate, | 12 | ····/····/˘· |
| Together, as equals, a week we shall wait. | 11 | ˘/˘·/˘····· |
| On the realm of 'five days,' do not let your heart dwell ! | 12 | ············ |
| Do not foolishly burn your own body in hell! | 12 | ··/˘˘···/˘·· |
| Did not rulers before you more treasure obtain ! | 12 | ··/˘····/˘˘/ |
| By injustice they burned up the world in their reign. | 12 | ·˘/˘········ |
| So live ! that your name may be mentioned with praise ; | 12 | ·······/˘˘·· |
| That when dead, on your tomb none may malisons raise. | 12 | ············ |
| A law to bad customs you should not apply! | 11 | ····/˘···˘/ |
| For, 'A curse on that nature depraved !' they will cry. | 12 | ·····/˘˘/··· |
| And if the strong man to dominion should rise, | 11 | ······˘/˘·· |
| Won't the dust of the grave keep him down when he dies?" | 12 | ············ |
| For Oppression's sad victim, the tyrant decreed | 12 | ·˘/˘·/˘·/˘˘/ |
| That his innocent tongue from its root should be freed. | 12 | ··/˘˘······· |
| The truth-recognizing philosopher said : | 11 | ··/˘·˘˘/˘˘· |
| " About this, too, you mention, I cherish no dread. | 12 | ·····/˘·/˘·· |
| My having no tongue will not cause me a woe; | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| For I'm sure, what's unspoken, the Maker will know. | 12 | ····˘/˘·/˘·· |
| If want or oppression I'm fated to bear, | 11 | ···˘/˘·/˘·· |
| And at last I am happy, why foster a care? | 12 | ·····/˘·/˘·· |
| The season of grief is a bridal to you, | 11 | ·/˘····/˘·· |
| If, when your end comes, you have gladness in view." | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.