بخش 148 - حکایت مات کردن دلقک سید شاه ترمد را

The Sháh was playing chess with Dalqak: he (Dalqak) checkmated him: immediately the Sháh's anger burst out.

He (Dalqak) cried, “Checkmate, checkmate!” and the haughty monarch threw the chessmen, one by one, at his head,

Saying, “Take (it)! Here is ‘checkmate’ for you, O scoundrel.” Dalqak restrained himself and (only) said, “Mercy!”

The Prince commanded him to play a second game: he (Dalqak) was trembling like a naked man in bitter cold.

He played the second game, and the Sháh was defeated: (when) the time and moment for saying “checkmate, checkmate” arrived,

Dalqak jumped up and ran into a corner and in his fear hastily flung six rugs over himself.

(There) he lay hidden beneath (several) cushions and six rugs, that he might escape from the Sháh's blows.

The Sháh exclaimed, “Hi, hi! what have you done? What is this?” He replied, “Checkmate, checkmate, checkmate, checkmate, O excellent Sháh!

How can one tell the truth to thee except under cover, O wrathful man who art wrapped in fire,

O thou who art defeated (by me), while I, defeated by thy Majesty's blows, am crying ‘checkmate, checkmate’ under thy house-furnishings?”

When the (whole) quarter became filled with the furious shouts of the Amír and his kicking the (ascetic's) door and holding and seizing,

The people quickly rushed out from left and right, crying, “O Prince, ’tis the hour for pardon and grace.

His brain is dry, and at this time his intelligence is inferior to the intelligence and understanding of children.

Asceticism and old age have come on the top of each other, and no (spiritual) revelation has been given to him in his asceticism.

He has suffered the pain but never seen the gain (that comes) from the Beloved: he has done (many) works (of devotion) but never seen the wages for his work.

Either the essential thing was not in his work at all, or by (Divine) decree the hour for the reward has not yet arrived.

Either his labour has been like the labour of the Jews, or the recompense has been connected with (deferred till) the appointed season.

For him ’tis sorrow and misfortune enough that he is without any one (to succour him) in this vale full of blood.

His eyes are painful, and he sits in a corner, sour-faced and chop-fallen.

There is no oculist to sympathise with him, nor has he any intelligence that he should find the way to a collyrium.

He is making a (great) effort with (the help of) conjecture and opinion: the matter rests in ‘maybe’ till it turn out well.

Far is the road he must travel ere he sees the Beloved, because he does not seek the head; his desire is headship.

At one time he is (engaged) in reproach, saying (to God), ‘The portion allotted to me from this calculation (of mine) is (nothing but) pain.’

At another time he is (engaged) in a quarrel with his own luck, saying, ‘All (the others) are flying, and we have our wings cut off.’”

Whoever is imprisoned in scent and colour, his spirit is oppressed, (even) though he is (occupied) in (the practice of) asceticism.

Until he come forth from this narrow resting-place, how should his spirit be happy and his breast expanded (with joy)?

One should never give a knife or razor to ascetics (living) in solitude before (they have gained the spiritual) revelation,

Since the anguish of disappointments and the grief (which they feel) would cause them to rip their bellies asunder from (uncontrollable) agitation of mind.