Chapter IV: Story on the Repentance of the Prince of Gunja

In the city of Gunja a prince chanced to dwell;A nobody, filthy and cruel, as well.He came singing to mosque, having tippled too much,With wine in his head and a cup in his clutch.A pietist lived in the holiest part,With tongue heart-suspending and pitying heart.Some people had gathered to hear his address—When you fail to be learned than the hearer you're less—When that obstinate scapegrace dishonour professed,These pious men's hearts became greatly distressed.When the feet of a king from the path of truth stray,Who is able to boast of his virtuous sway?The odour of garlic drowns that of the rose;The sound of a lute near a drum weakness shows.If orders prohibiting crime you emit;Like paralysed people, you ought not to sit !And if you possess not command over speech,Who becomes pure in soul by the doctrines you teach?When away from the hand and the tongue pow'r has fled,Men exhibit their manhood in prayers, instead.One in front of the hermit, of knowledge profound,Lamented and wept, with his head on the ground ;Saying, "Once, on the part of this drunk debauchee,Say a prayer! for speechless and pow'rless are we."From a heart well-informed one sigh fervent and long,Is than seventy swords and war-axes more strong.The experienced person then raised his hands high ;What said he? " Oh Lord of the earth and the sky!The Fates have made pleasant the time of this boy ;Oh God ! throughout life may he pleasure enjoy !"A person addressed him, " Oh guide to the truth !Why asked you that good might befall this vile youth?Why do you wish well for an infidel pest?On the city and people, why evil request?"The cautious observer replied in this way:"Since you know not the secret of words, do not bray!With words of two meanings my prayer was fraught ;From the Author of Justice his penance I sought.When a man to abandon his vices contrives,In Paradise, doubtless, with joy he arrives.The 'five days' resemble the pleasure of wine;When abandoned, the soul gains the pleasure divine."To repeat what was said by the subtle-tongued man,A friend from their midst to the king's presence ran.The king's eyes from rapture filled, cloud-like, with tears,And a torrent of grief on his features appears.By the fire of desire his bad conscience was burned ;From shame his sad eyes on his insteps were turned.At regret's portal knocking, he made some one goTo the man of kind heart, saying, "Soother of woe !Oh come, that my head I may prostrate to-day!My ignorant head that has erred from the way !"The soldiers in rows stood protecting the gate ;The orator reached the king's palace in state.He saw sugar and jujubes, and candles and wine ;A town full of blessings and men drunk as swine.One was senseless, another half drunk tried to stand ;One was singing a song with a cup in his hand.The clamour of minstrels arose from one rink ;From another the cup-bearer's voice, crying, "Drink !"Boon companions by ruby-red wine were distressed,And the harper's head, harp-like from sleep, sought his breast.Among the companions of noble degree,The narcissus alone open-eyed you could see.The harp and the cymbal in unison bound,From the middle of discord produced a shrill sound.The king had them broken in pieces, like pegs,And pure-looking pleasure was changed into dregs.They shiver the harps and they sever the strings,And turn out the songster while loudly he sings.The jars in the wine cellar smashed they right small;The gourds they demolished and broke one and all.Harps lying inverted ; wine flowing a flood ;You'd have said from a goose newly killed ran the blood.Jars pregnant with wine were by no means expert;But in casting their loads in the strife were alert.They ripped the wine bags to the navel in height ;The jars' bloody eyes were in tears at the sight.He ordered; the palace-yard stones they out-threw,And the court of the palace they wholly renew ;For the ruby-like wine's red, indelible stain,They in vain tried to wash from the marble again.If the drains became ruined, no wonder! for theyDrank wine to excess in the course of that day.Wherever one held in his fingers a harp,Like a drum, he was beaten by men's fingers sharp.If a profligate carried a lute on his back,His ear, like a tambour, got many a whack.The youth who with pride and wild thoughts had been fired,Like a saint, to the nook of devotion retired.His father had oft spoken words meant to scare :"Let your conduct be pure and your language be fair !"He bore his sire's harshness; the fetters and jail,Compared with advice, were of little avail.If the speaker said words that were harsh or were kind,Saying, "Folly and childishness cast from your mind!"His fancies and arrogance reached such a height,That he left not a Dervish alive in his sight.The thundering lion submits not in war ;But reflects when he hears the keen sword, the guitar.By mildness, a foe to a friend you may change;When you treat a friend badly, the friend you estrange.The person who, anvil-like, hardens his face,Must his head 'neath the hammer of chastisement place.When you speak, you should never abuse the Ameer !When you find he is harsh, very gentle appear!By the virtues ! conciliate all you may see ;Whether humble in rank or of lofty degree !For the one lifts his head, though retiring in mood,By words that are kind, and the other's subdued.With sweetness of speech you can bear off the ball;The hot-tempered carries off grief, and that's all.Accept you from Sadi sweet speech, while 'tis nigh!To the sour-visaged man, say, "In misery die !"