Chapter VIII: Story of the Mother and her Son
A youth from his mother's wise counsels had turned ;Her sorrowing heart, like the demon-fire, burned.In despair, she his cradle in front of him brought;Saying, "Oh weak of love, who have compacts forgot !Were you, one time, not weeping and helpless and small;And for nights, at your hands I had no sleep at all ?Did you have in the cradle the strength you have now?You could not repel a weak fly from your brow !Are you not the same, whom a fly troubled then,Who to-day are a powerful leader of men?Again, yours will be such a state 'neath the clay,That you can't from yourself drive the ant swarms away.Will your eyes ever kindle their lustre again,When the worms of the tomb eat the pith of your brain?"Don't you see that a man who is blind of both eyes,When he walks, can't the pit from the road recognize !If God you have thanked for your eyes, it is right!If you have not, your eyes also see not the light!Neither reason nor sense did your tutor impart ;The Maker created these gifts in your heart.If a truth-hearing mind God had kept back from you,As downright absurd, you'd have heard what was true !
Words in this poem
- lustre n.
- A period of five years; a lustrum. [L. lustrum: cf. F. lustre.]
- downright adv.
- Straight down; perpendicularly.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Chapter VIII: Story of the Mother and her Son 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 VIII: Story of the Mother and her Son, in The Garden of Fragrance (1882), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/saadi-bostan/8-2.html, id L29720.
Form and metre
Chapter VIII: Story of the Mother and her Son is 22 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 82% of the lines. The metre is anapaestic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%).
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 AA--BBCCDDEED-FFGGHHII turnedA · burnedA · brought · forgot · smallB · allB · nowC · browC · thenD · menD · clayE · awayE · againD · brain · eyesF · recognizeF · rightG · lightG · impartH · heartH · youI · trueI
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 youth from his mother's wise counsels had turned ; | 12 | ····/˘·/˘··˘ |
| Her sorrowing heart, like the demon-fire, burned. | 12 | ·/˘˘···/˘/˘· |
| In despair, she his cradle in front of him brought; | 12 | ·˘/··/˘····· |
| Saying, "Oh weak of love, who have compacts forgot ! | 12 | /˘······˘/˘/ |
| Were you, one time, not weeping and helpless and small; | 12 | ·····/˘·/˘·· |
| And for nights, at your hands I had no sleep at all ? | 12 | ············ |
| Did you have in the cradle the strength you have now? | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| You could not repel a weak fly from your brow ! | 11 | ···˘/······ |
| Are you not the same, whom a fly troubled then, | 12 | ········/˘˘· |
| Who to-day are a powerful leader of men? | 12 | ·····/˘˘/˘·· |
| Again, yours will be such a state 'neath the clay, | 11 | ˘/········· |
| That you can't from yourself drive the ant swarms away. | 12 | ····˘/····˘/ |
| Will your eyes ever kindle their lustre again, | 12 | ···/˘/˘·/˘˘/ |
| When the worms of the tomb eat the pith of your brain?" | 12 | ············ |
| Don't you see that a man who is blind of both eyes, | 12 | ············ |
| When he walks, can't the pit from the road recognize ! | 12 | ·········/˘· |
| If God you have thanked for your eyes, it is right! | 12 | ·····˘······ |
| If you have not, your eyes also see not the light! | 12 | ······/˘···· |
| Neither reason nor sense did your tutor impart ; | 12 | /˘/˘····/˘˘/ |
| The Maker created these gifts in your heart. | 11 | ·/˘˘/˘····· |
| If a truth-hearing mind God had kept back from you, | 12 | ···/˘······· |
| As downright absurd, you'd have heard what was true ! | 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.