1Cademy - بخش ۳۲ - حکایت پسر یحیی برمکی و صفت بخل وی / Section 32 - The Tale of the Son of Yahya Barmaki and His Quality of Miserliness

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Haft Awrang

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بخش ۳۲ - حکایت پسر یحیی برمکی و صفت بخل وی / Section 32 - The Tale of the Son of Yahya Barmaki and His Quality of Miserliness

Original content

داشت یحیای برمکی پسری
بلکه فرزند بخل را پدری

یاد کردی ز بخشش پدران
گریه برداشتی چو نوحه گران

کان همه سیم و زر چرا دادند
زو پی من ذخیره ننهادند

تا من اکنون به هر درم ستمی
دیدمی و ندادمی درمی

هیچ نادیده ای که مهره یشم
لعل و گوهر نمودیش در چشم

تا به حدی لئیم بود و بخیل
که اگر روز مرگ عزرائیل

بخل کردی به باد در قولنج
گرچه جانش برآمدی زان رنج

نان گرفتی ز وی به فدیه جان
جان روان دادی ندادی نان

داشت میراث بنده ای ز پدر
بسته در خدمتش چو مور کمر

تنی از لاغری به مو نزدیک
چون میان بتان همه باریک

بودی از بس گرسنگی خورده
چون خیالی نه زنده نی مرده

جامه ای در برش سراسر چاک
در حرمان دیگرش هر چاک

بوالفضولی چو حال او را دید
خبر از خوان خواجه اش پرسید

گفت کو را شکست خوانی هست
در فراخی بسی کم از کف دست

گرد خوان صحن و کاسه اش بس آش
هر یکی همچو دانه خشخاش

کز سر سوزنش خراشیده
صحن ما کاسه زان تراشیده

مگس از آش او شود محروم
گر نهد پشه ای در آن خرطوم

نیم شب خوان کشد به خانه و بس
که نه پشه ست آن زمان نه مگس

بعد ازان سوی جامه اش نگریست
گفت در جامه چاکت این همه چیست

گرچه بر خوردنی نیی فیروز
باری این چاک های جامه بدوز

گفت بر سوزنی ندارم دست
که توان خرقه ای به هم پیوست

خواجه ام را ز بصره تا بغداد
گر بود پر ز سوزن پولاد

پس ز کنعان بیاید اسرائیل
همره جبرئیل و میکائیل

خانه کعبه را کنند گرو
چند روز اوفتند در تگ و دو

تا به آن جست و جوی پی در پی
سوزنی عاریت کنند از وی

تا زند بخیه درزی چالاک
آنچه بر یوسف از قفا شده چاک

ندهد سوزن آن فرومایه
نکند شادشان ازان وایه

بفسرد از توهم آن غر زن
که شود سوده ناگه آن سوزن

گیردش لایزال تب لرزه
زان تبش در خیال صد هرزه

English translation

Yahya al-Barmaki had a son, Who was rather a father to the child of miserliness. Whenever he remembered the generosity of his ancestors, He would weep like professional mourners, Asking: 'Why did they give away all that silver and gold, And did not leave it as a store for me? So that now, for the sake of every single coin, I suffer, Yet I would not give away a single coin.' No one has ever seen a piece of jade That did not look like a ruby or jewel in his eyes. He was so mean and miserly That if, on the day of death, Azrael Had been stingy with the wind of colic, Though his soul would depart from that pain, If one took bread from him as a ransom for his life, He would give up his flowing soul but would not give up bread. He had inherited a servant from his father, Who stood girded in his service like an ant. His body, from thinness, was close to a hair, As slender as the waist of beautiful idols. Having suffered so much hunger, He was like a mere phantom, neither alive nor dead. The clothes on his body were completely torn, Each tear a portal to another deprivation. A busybody, seeing his condition, Inquired about his master's dining table. He said: 'He has a broken dining cloth, Which in width is much less than the palm of a hand. Around the table, his plates and bowls contain so little soup, Each portion is like a poppy seed, Scraped off by the tip of a needle, From which our plates and bowls have been carved. Even a fly would be deprived of his soup, Even if a mosquito were to put its proboscis into it. He only spreads the table at midnight, Because at that time there is neither mosquito nor fly.' After that, the busybody looked at his garment, And said: 'What are all these tears in your clothes? Though you are not fortunate with food, At least sew up these tears in your garment.' He replied: 'I have no needle at hand With which a robe could be stitched together. Even if my master's lands from Basra to Baghdad Were filled with steel needles, And then Israel should come from Canaan Accompanied by Gabriel and Michael, And mortgage the Kaaba, And run about in haste for several days, So that through their continuous search, They might borrow a needle from him, So that a swift tailor could sew up The tear that was made on Joseph's garment from behind, That base man would still not give the needle, And would not grant them their wish. He would freeze from the anxiety and grumbling That the needle might suddenly wear out; He would be seized with a constant shivering fever, And from that fever, a hundred absurd thoughts would enter his mind.'

Updated 2026-07-07

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