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(۲) حکایت عیسی علیه السلام / (2) The Tale of Jesus, Peace Be Upon Him

Original content

مگر روح الله آن شمع دلفروز
به گورستان گذر می کرد یک روز

ز گوری ناله ای آمد به گوشش
دل از زاری آن آمد به جوشش

دعا کرد آن زمان تا حق تعالی
به یک دم زنده کردش چون خیالی

یکی پیر خمیده چون کمانی
سلامش گفت و ساکن شد زمانی

مسیحش گفت پیرا کیستی تو
چه وقتی مردی و کی زیستی تو

پس آنگه گفت ای بحر پر اسرار
منم حیان بن معبد چنین زار

هزار و هشتصد سالست ای پاک
که تا من مرده ام افتاده در خاک

ازین سختی نیاسودم زمانی
ندیدم خویش را یک دم امانی

مسیحش گفت ای شوریده خوابت
چرا کردند چندینی عذابت

بدو گفت این عذاب من کالیمست
برای دانگی مال یتیمست

مسیحش گفت بی ایمان بمردی
که از دانگی تو چندین رنج بردی؟

چنین گفت او که بر اسلام مردم
که چندین سال چندین رنج بردم

دعا کرد آن زمان عیسی پاکش
که تا خوش خفت و شد با زیر خاکش

مسلمانان مسلمانی گر اینست
ندانم کانچه می بینم چه دینست

گرت یک جو حرام ناصوابست
هزار و هشتصد سالت عذابست

وگر خود مال سر تا سر حرامست
چگویم خود عذابت بر دوامست

عزیزا چون وفاداری نداری
غم خود خور چو غم خواری نداری

نداری هیچ گردن سر میفراز
حساب خصم از گردن بینداز

که چون بر سر نداری عیسی پاک
بسی بینی عذاب از خصم بی باک

ندانی هیچ کار خویش کردن
بجز عمرت کم و زر بیش کردن

نمی دانی که تا تو سیم کوشی
بغفلت عمر زرین می فروشی

مکن زر جمع چون سیماب درتاب
که خواهی گشت ناگه همچو سیماب

ازان زر بیشتر در زیر خاکست
که از وی بیشتر مردم هلاکست

زری کان سنگ در کوه و کمر داشت
بخیل از سنگ آن زر سخت تر داشت

بده از مردمی صد گنج پیوست
ولی یک جو بمردی کم ده از دست

خسی کو نان ده آمد از کسی به،
که یک نان ده ز فرمان ده بسی به

ولی کشته شدن در پای پیلان
به از نان خوردن از دست بخیلان

English translation

One day, the Spirit of God [Jesus], that heart-illuminating candle, Was passing by a graveyard. A groan from a grave reached his ear; His heart seethed with compassion from that lamentation. He prayed then, so that God the Almighty Resurrected the man in a moment like an apparition. An old man, bent like a bow, Greeted him and remained silent for a while. The Messiah asked him, 'Old man, who are you? When did you die, and when did you live?' Then he replied, 'O ocean full of secrets! I am Hayyan bin Ma'bad, in such a miserable state. It has been one thousand and eight hundred years, O pure one, Since I died and have been lying in the dirt. From this hardship, I have not rested for a moment; I have not seen a moment of safety for myself.' The Messiah said to him, 'O you whose sleep is disturbed! Why have they tormented you so much?' He replied, 'This torment of mine, which is so painful, Is for a dang [a tiny fraction of a coin] of an orphan's wealth.' The Messiah asked him, 'Did you die without faith, That you suffered so much for a dang?' He replied, 'I died upon Islam, Yet for so many years I have suffered so much.' The pure Jesus then prayed for him, So that he slept peacefully and went back under the dirt. O Muslims, if this is being a Muslim, I do not know what religion this is that I see! If you have a barleycorn's weight of unjust forbidden wealth, You will face one thousand and eight hundred years of torment. And if your wealth is entirely forbidden, What can I say? Your torment will be perpetual. Dear one, since you have no loyal friend, Grieve for yourself, since you have no one to grieve for you. Since you have nothing, do not raise your head proudly; Cast off the adversary's claim from your neck. For since you do not have the pure Jesus at your head, You will see much torment from a fearless adversary. You do not know how to do anything for yourself, Except decreasing your life and increasing your gold. Do you not know that while you strive for silver, You negligently sell your golden life? Do not gather gold, trembling like quicksilver, For you will suddenly become like quicksilver. Most of that gold is beneath the dirt, Because of which most people have perished. The gold that the stone held in the mountains and hills, The miser held that gold tighter than the stone. Continuously give a hundred treasures out of humanity, But do not let go of a barleycorn's weight of manliness. A lowly person who gives bread is better than a somebody, For one bread-giver is much better than a commander. But being killed at the feet of elephants, Is better than eating bread from the hands of misers.

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Updated 2026-07-03

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Humanities

Literature

Persian Literature Prerequisite Course

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