A pious man was a guest of a king. When they sat down to eat, he ate less than he desired, and when they stood for prayer, he prayed more than his usual habit, so that they would think highly of his piety.
I fear you will not reach the Kaaba, O Arab
For this path you are taking leads to Turkestan
When he returned to his place, he asked for a meal to eat. He had a perceptive son who said, “Father, did you not eat at the king’s table?” He replied, “I did not eat anything useful in their eyes.” The son said, “Then make up your prayer as well, for you did not do anything useful in that either.”
O you who hold your virtues in your hand
And hide your faults under your arm
What do you hope to buy, O proud one
On the day of distress, with deceitful coin?
