بخش 132 - حکایت نذر کردن سگان هر زمستان کی این تابستان چون بیاید خانه سازیم از بهر زمستان را

In winter the bones of the dog are drawn together: the blows of the frost make him so small

That he says, “Having such a little body, I must build a stone house.

When summer comes, I will build with my claws a stone house against the cold.”

(But) when summer comes, his bones expand from the relief (which he feels), and his skin grows sleek,

And, when he sees himself stout, he says, “In what house should I find room, O noble sir?”

He grows stout and slinks into a shady place—a lazy, full-fed, cowardly, self- opinionated (creature)!

His heart (conscience) says to him, “Build a house, O uncle!” He says, “How shall I find room in the house? Tell (me that).”

In the hour of pain the bones of your greed shrink together and diminish in compass,

And you say penitently, “I will build a house: it will be a resting-place (refuge) for me in winter”;

(But) when the pain is gone and your greed has grown stout, the desire for the house departs from you, just as (in the case of) the dog.

Thanksgiving for the bounty is sweeter than the bounty (itself): how should he that is addicted to thanksgiving go towards (direct his attention to) the bounty?

Thanksgiving is the soul of the bounty, and the bounty is as the husk, because thanksgiving brings you to the abode of the Beloved.

Bounty produces heedlessness, and thanksgiving alertness: hunt after bounty with the snare of thanksgiving to the King.

The bounty of thanksgiving will make you contented and princely, so that you will bestow a hundred bounties on the poor.

You will eat your fill of the viands and dessert of God, so that hunger and begging will depart from you.