Chapter IX: Story of the Pious Man and his Brick of Gold
An ingot of gold to the hand of one fell,Who was pious in nature and worshipped God well.It so greatly distracted his sensible head,That his madness of heart o'er his face darkness spread.In the thought of his treasure and wealth, the night passed;He said, "While I'm living it surely will last :Again my weak body, for mere begging's sake,Bent and straight, before people, I ought not to make.I'll a palace, with basement of marble, erect;And the roof will with aloes-wood rafters be decked.For my friends, I'll a private apartment complete,Whose door will be inside a garden retreat.From sewing on patch upon patch, I am tired ;While my eyes and my brain, others' burning has fired.Henceforward will menials my victuals prepare ;I will cherish my soul by removing all care.This hard, felten blanket has murdered me quite ;I will go and arrange a rich bed from to-night."Fancy caused him to dote, and look frenzied and wan ;The crab sunk its claws in the brains of the man.No leisure for prayer or God's study had he—From sleeping and eating and worshipping free—Head drunk from delusions, he came to a plain ;For nor rest nor composure with him did remain.At the head of a grave one was mixing up mire,Some bricks from the dust of that grave to acquire.In deep thought with himself the old man hung his head ;" Oh short-sighted soul ! take a lesson !" he said ;" Your heart on this brick, of pure gold, wherefore lay?For soon they will model a brick from your clay."The vast mouth of greed is not opened thus wide,That its appetite should by one morsel be tied.Withhold from this brick, oh, debased one, your hand !For with one brick you cannot the Oxus withstand.Absorbed in your profit and goods, you don't mindThat the stock of your life has been cast to the wind!Such breezes will over this dust of ours play,That each atom of us will be wafted away.Your eyes were stitched up by the dust of desire ;Lust's scorching Simoom set your life's field on fire.The black dust of neglect from your eyelids set free !For, to-morrow, black dust underground you will be.
Words in this poem
- ingot n.
- That in which metal is cast; a mold. [Prob. from AS. in in + geótan to pour: cf. F. linglot, LL. lingotus a mass of gold or silver, extended in the manner of a tongue, and G. einguss, LG. & OE. ingo]
- wealth n.
- Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
- ought p. p.
- Was or were under obligation to pay; owed. [Orig. the preterit of the verb to owe. OE. oughte, aughte, ahte, AS. ahte. sq. root110. See Owe.]
- henceforward adv.
- From this time forward; henceforth.
- dote n.
- A marriage portion. See 1st Dot, n. Wyatt. [See Dot dowry.]
- composure n.
- The act of composing, or that which is composed; a composition. [From Compose.]
- wherefore adv.
- For which reason; so; -- used relatively. [Where + for.]
- greed n.
- An eager desire or longing; greediness; as, a greed of gain. [Akin to Goth. grdus hunger, Icel. graedhr. sq. root34. See Greedy.]
- scorching a.
- Burning; parching or shriveling with heat.
- simoom n.
- A hot, dry, suffocating, dust-laden wind, that blows occasionally in Arabia, Syria, and neighboring countries, generated by the extreme heat of the parched deserts or sandy plains. [Ar. sam, fr. samma to poison. Cf. Samiel.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Chapter IX: Story of the Pious Man and his Brick of Gold 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 IX: Story of the Pious Man and his Brick of Gold, in The Garden of Fragrance (1882), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/saadi-bostan/9-9.html, id L29743.
Form and metre
Chapter IX: Story of the Pious Man and his Brick of Gold is 42 lines in a single stanza. It is in rhyming couplets, 90% of the lines. The metre is anapaestic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%).
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 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHII--JJKK--LLMMNNOOPPQQRRSS fellA · wellA · headB · spreadB · passedC · lastC · sakeD · makeD · erectE · deckedE · completeF · retreatF · tiredG · firedG · prepareH · careH · quiteI · nightI · wan · man · heJ · freeJ · plainK · remainK · mire · acquire · headL · saidL · layM · clayM · wideN · tiedN · handO · withstandO · mindP · windP · playQ · awayQ · desireR · fireR · freeS · beS
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 |
|---|---|---|
| An ingot of gold to the hand of one fell, | 11 | ·/˘········ |
| Who was pious in nature and worshipped God well. | 12 | ··/˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| It so greatly distracted his sensible head, | 12 | ··/˘˘/˘·/˘˘· |
| That his madness of heart o'er his face darkness spread. | 12 | ··/˘·····/˘· |
| In the thought of his treasure and wealth, the night passed; | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| He said, "While I'm living it surely will last : | 11 | ····/˘·/˘·· |
| Again my weak body, for mere begging's sake, | 11 | ˘/··/˘··/˘· |
| Bent and straight, before people, I ought not to make. | 12 | ·····/˘····· |
| I'll a palace, with basement of marble, erect; | 12 | ··/˘·/˘·/˘˘/ |
| And the roof will with aloes-wood rafters be decked. | 12 | ·····/··/˘·· |
| For my friends, I'll a private apartment complete, | 12 | ·····/˘˘/˘˘/ |
| Whose door will be inside a garden retreat. | 11 | ····˘/·/˘˘/ |
| From sewing on patch upon patch, I am tired ; | 12 | ·/˘·······/˘ |
| While my eyes and my brain, others' burning has fired. | 13 | ······/˘/˘·/˘ |
| Henceforward will menials my victuals prepare ; | 12 | ·····/˘·/˘˘/ |
| I will cherish my soul by removing all care. | 12 | ··/˘···˘/˘·· |
| This hard, felten blanket has murdered me quite ; | 12 | ··/˘/˘·/˘˘·· |
| I will go and arrange a rich bed from to-night." | 12 | ····˘/······ |
| Fancy caused him to dote, and look frenzied and wan ; | 12 | /˘······/˘·· |
| The crab sunk its claws in the brains of the man. | 11 | ··········· |
| No leisure for prayer or God's study had he— | 11 | ·/˘····/˘·· |
| From sleeping and eating and worshipping free— | 11 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘˘· |
| Head drunk from delusions, he came to a plain ; | 11 | ···˘/˘····· |
| For nor rest nor composure with him did remain. | 12 | ····˘/˘···˘/ |
| At the head of a grave one was mixing up mire, | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| Some bricks from the dust of that grave to acquire. | 12 | ·········˘/˘ |
| In deep thought with himself the old man hung his head ; | 12 | ····˘/······ |
| " Oh short-sighted soul ! take a lesson !" he said ; | 11 | ··/˘···/˘·· |
| " Your heart on this brick, of pure gold, wherefore lay? | 11 | ········/˘· |
| For soon they will model a brick from your clay." | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| The vast mouth of greed is not opened thus wide, | 12 | ·······/˘˘·· |
| That its appetite should by one morsel be tied. | 12 | ··/˘····/˘·· |
| Withhold from this brick, oh, debased one, your hand ! | 12 | ˘/····˘/˘··· |
| For with one brick you cannot the Oxus withstand. | 12 | ·····/˘···˘/ |
| Absorbed in your profit and goods, you don't mind | 12 | ˘/˘··/˘····· |
| That the stock of your life has been cast to the wind! | 12 | ············ |
| Such breezes will over this dust of ours play, | 12 | ·/˘······/˘· |
| That each atom of us will be wafted away. | 12 | ··/˘····/˘˘/ |
| Your eyes were stitched up by the dust of desire ; | 12 | ·········˘/˘ |
| Lust's scorching Simoom set your life's field on fire. | 12 | ·/˘·······/˘ |
| The black dust of neglect from your eyelids set free ! | 12 | ····˘/··/··· |
| For, to-morrow, black dust underground you will be. | 12 | ··/˘··/˘···· |
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.