A drought in Alexandria had exhausted the patience of the dervishes; the gates of heaven were closed to the earth, and the cries of the people reached the sky.
No creature, whether beast, bird, fish, or ant,
Was left that did not cry out to the heavens in despair.
It is strange that the smoke of people’s hearts does not gather,
To form a cloud and rain down as tears.
In such a year, an effeminate man, far from friends, whose description is inappropriate to mention, especially in the presence of the great, and it is also improper to ignore it as some might consider it a sign of the speaker’s weakness. We will suffice with these two verses, which are a small indication of much and a handful representing a heap:
If the Tatar kills this effeminate man,
There would be no need to kill another Tatar.
How long will it be like the bridge of Baghdad,
With water below and people above?
Such a person, of whom you have heard a part of his description, had immense wealth in that year. He gave silver and gold to the needy and set tables for travelers. A group of dervishes, exhausted by poverty, decided to seek his invitation and consulted me. I refused to agree and said:
A lion does not eat what a dog has left,
Even if it dies of hunger in a cave.
Endure hardship and hunger,
But do not extend your hand to the lowly.
Even if Fereydun becomes rich and powerful,
Do not consider the unworthy as anyone.
Silk and brocade on the unworthy,
Are like lapis lazuli and gold on a wall.
