Chapter IX: Story on Making the Most of Time

One night fickle sleep, in the desert of Faid,My feet from progressing with fetters had tied.A camel-man came, showing angry surprise,And battered my head with his rope, saying, " Rise !Left behind, you perhaps are determined to die,Since you do not get up when the bell sounds so high?Like you, I desire very much to sleep more ;But, alas! the lone desert lies stretched out before."Since to rise from sweet slumber, no liking you showedAt the starting's loud noise; can you get to the road?The camel-man sounded his drum as he ran,And first reached the stage, of the whole caravan.Oh happy the sensible, fortunate folk !Who packed their effects ere the drummer awoke !Those upon the road sleeping, their heads do not raise,Till no trace of those travelling reaches their gaze.The trav'ller first rising, pre-eminence won;What avails it to wake when the march has begun?When your features of youth are o'ershadowed with grey,Cast sleep from your eyes! for your night now is day.All hope from my life I was forced to expelOn that day when my darkness to hoariness fell.Alas! my dear life is, at last, on the wane,And soon will depart, too, the days that remain.The time that has gone has in sinfulness passed ;And of this, too, you have not a moment to last.Now's the time for the seed, if to tend it you care,Or if you expect in the harvest to share !To the town " Resurrection" you must not go poor !For to sit and regret would not favour procure.If you've got Wisdom's eyes, make arrangements to-dayFor the grave; ere the ants eat your eyeballs away.From stock, oh young man! you can profit obtain;What profit can he who has wasted it gain?Strive, now, that the water has reached to your waist !And not when the flood o'er your head flows in haste.Shed a shower of tears, now that eyes you have got !There's a tongue in your mouth, let excuses be brought!To the body, the soul will not always be bound ;The tongue in the mouth will not always go round.To the sayings of sages, to-day, lend your ear!For to-morrow, you'll find yourself tried by Nakir.You should count as a treasure this spirit, so dear ;For a cage that is birdless will worthless appear.To waste life in regretting, one cannot afford;Opportunity's precious and Time is a sword !