POETRY IS LIKE TAKING A DEEP BREATH

Monday, 13 September 2010

A ROSE FROM THE GARDEN




Day after day the wind carries away a rose from the garden;
and the heart of the nightingale feels a new sorrow.

The law of Time is the same for all men:
murmur not, and submit to its justice.

The falcon of death carries off in his talons,
like a pigeon, all things that are born.

O Friend!
Set not thy heart on this world:
For peace undisturbed is not possible here.

The tulip and hyacinth that blossom 
come from the earth;
perhaps from the dust of a face that was lovely,
with hyacinthlike scented hair.

Nothing has ever been built on the earth,
that time has not changed its perfection.

Yesterday the garden and its flowers felt the gladness
of the warbling of birds.

Today the thorns alone remain,
as if never a rose had bloomed in the garden.

The world is a bridge that leads to Eternity;
the wise build not their homes on the bridge.

Sadi
from Ode 405

translator unknown