بخش 112 - مقالت برادر بزرگین

The eldest said, “O men of probity, were not we masculine (vigorous and bold) in giving counsel to others?

Whenever one of the (King's) retainers complained to us of affliction and poverty and fear and agitation,

We used to say, ‘Do not bewail thy hardships: be patient, for patience (fortitude) is the key to relief from pain.’

What has become now of this key, (namely) fortitude? Wonderful! The rule (which we laid down for others) is null and void (for us): what has become of it?

Did not we always say, ‘In the (hour of) struggle laugh happily like gold in the fire’?

We said to the soldiers at the time of conflict in battle, ‘Hark, do not change colour (lose courage)!’

At the time when the ground trodden underfoot by the horses was entirely (composed of) severed heads,

We were shouting to our troops, ‘On, on! Advance irresistibly like the spearpoint!’

We preached fortitude to all the world, because fortitude (we said) is a lamp and light in the breast.

Now it is our turn. Why have we become distracted and gone under the chádar (veil) like cowardly women?”

O heart that didst inspire all (others) with ardour, inspire thyself with ardour and be ashamed of thyself!

O tongue that wert a mentor to all (others), now ’tis thy turn: why art thou silent?

O reason, where is thy eloquent and persuasive counsel? Now ’tis thy turn: what has become of thy (former) admonitions?

O thou who hast removed a hundred anxieties from (other) hearts, now ’tis thy turn: wag thy beard!

If now, in thy vile poltroonery, thou hast (only) stolen a beard (art devoid of real manhood), formerly thou must have been laughing at thy beard (making a mock display of manly virtue).

When thou exhortest others, (thy cry is), “Come on! come on!” In thine own anguish (thou criest), “Alas, alas!” like women.

Since thou wert a cure for others' pain, (how is it that) thou art silent when pain has become thy guest?

’Twas thy fashion to shout at the soldiers (to encourage them): (now) shout (at thyself): why is thy voice choked?

For fifty years thou hast woven on (the loom of) thy intelligence: (now) put on an undervest of the fabric which thou thyself hast woven.

The ears of thy friends were delighted by thy song: (now) put forth thy hand and pull thine own ear.

(Formerly) thou wert always a head (leader): do not make thyself a tail, do not lose thy feet and hands and beard and moustache.

(Now) ’tis for thee to make a move on the (chess-) board: restore thyself to thy normal state (of spiritual health) and thy (natural) vigour.