I saw an idol made of ivory in Somnath

Inlaid like the idol Manat in the age of ignorance

Its image crafted so beautifully by the artist

That no image could be made better

Caravans from every direction

Came to see that lifeless image

The kings of China and Chegel had their hopes

Like Saadi's loyalty from that hard-hearted idol

Eloquent ones came from every place

Pleading before that speechless figure

I was puzzled by that affair

Why a living being would worship an inanimate object?

A Magian who was my companion

Polite, a roommate, and a friend

I gently asked, 'O Brahmin

I am amazed at the actions in this temple

That they are intoxicated by this weak figure

Bound in the pit of misguidance

It has neither the strength of hands nor the movement of feet

If you throw it down, it will not rise from its place

Don't you see that its eyes are made of amber?

Seeking loyalty from stone eyes is futile

Upon saying this, that friend became an enemy

Like fire, he became angry and attacked me

He informed the Magians and the old men of the temple

I saw no goodwill in that assembly

The infidels fell upon me like dogs for that bone

Like dogs on me for that bone

As their crooked path seemed straight to them

The straight path appeared crooked in their eyes

For a man, no matter how wise and kind-hearted

Appears ignorant to the ignorant

I was as helpless as a drowning man

I saw no way out except patience

When you see that the ignorant is full of hate,

Peace lies in submission and gentleness' state.

I praised the great Brahman with words profound,

O sage, the interpreter of life, your wisdom knows no bound.

I too, am pleased with the form of this idol’s frame,

For its shape is lovely, its stature full of fame.

Its form appears new and wondrous to my sight,

But I know not the meaning behind it, though bright.

For soon, the seeker of this path shall arrive,

And the stranger shall know less of evil than of good to survive.

You know that Farzin bears this letter’s script,

The adviser to the king in this sacred crypt.

What meaning is there in the form of this idol, I wonder?

For I am the first of its worshippers, pulling the thunder.

Worship by imitation is a misguided way,

Blessed is the wayfarer who has the light of knowledge’s ray.

The Brahman’s face glowed with joy’s delight,

He smiled and said, 'O well-spoken one, your words are bright.'

Your question is right, and your actions are fair,

Whoever seeks a reason will find it, if they dare.

I too, wandered far in my quest,

I saw idols, unaware of myself, lost in my test.

Except this idol, which every morning is here,

And to the Creator, it raises its hand, sincere.

If you wish, stay here tonight in my place,

For tomorrow, the truth shall be revealed to your face.

I spent that night under the elder’s command,

Like Bijan, trapped in the pit of despair, unmanned.

A night that stretched like the Day of Judgement, so long,

Magi gathered around me, unwashed, in prayer strong.

The priests never touched water, their need untended,

Their armpits like the dead, under the sun, unmended.

Had I committed a great sin, I wonder, in vain?

That I endured such a dreadful, tormenting pain.

All night, trapped in this sorrow

One hand on the heart, the other in prayer

Suddenly the drummer beat the drum

The rooster of the Brahmin called from above

The night preacher in black without dispute

Unsheathed the sword of day from its scabbard

The morning fire fell on the burnt

In an instant, the world was ablaze

You'd say in the land of Zanzibar

Suddenly the Tatars came from a corner

The ill-fated Magians with unwashed faces

Came to the temple from doors, fields, and streets

No man or woman remained in the city

No place for entering was left in that idol temple

I was weak from sorrow and drunk from sleep

When suddenly the statue raised its hand

At once a roar rose from them

You'd say the sea had come to a boil

When the temple was emptied of the assembly

The Brahmin looked at me, smiling

Saying, 'I know you no longer have a problem

The truth has become evident, and falsehood remains no more'

When I saw that ignorance was firm in him

And absurd imagination was mixed within him

I dared not speak any more of the truth

For the truth must be hidden from the people of falsehood

When you see the strongman's strength

It is not bravery to break your own grip

For a while, I pretended to weep in remorse

Saying I regretted what I had said

My weeping swayed the hearts of the infidels

It's no wonder if a stone turns into a torrent

They rushed, in service, towards me with speed,

And with honor, they took hold of my arm indeed.

I became an excuse-maker before the weak,

And struck the golden throne, with a seat of wood so meek.

I gave a kiss to the idol's hand with disdain,

Cursed be it and the idol worshipper, in pain.

For days, I became an unbeliever in imitation,

I became a Brahman in the teachings of the divine narration.

When I saw that I became trusted in the monastery’s gate,

I could not contain my joy, it was too great.

One night, I tightly bound myself in the monastery,

I ran left and right like a scorpion, full of worry.

I looked from beneath the throne and above,

I saw a curtain, adorned with gold, shining like a dove.

Behind the curtain, a fire-worshipper stood, in the heat,

With a rope in hand, to complete the deceit.

Suddenly, it became clear in that very moment,

Like David, the metal softened as if wax, so potent.

For when the rope is pulled, there is no escape,

The idol raises its hand, crying out in shape.

The Brahman became ashamed of my face,

For my stitch was heard, marking disgrace.

They rushed forward and I stepped back,

And threw him into a pit, in my attack.

For I knew that if the Brahman survived,

He would remain, and strive to make me deprived.

He prefers that I meet my fate through harm,

Lest I reveal his true face, causing alarm.

When you hear of the misdeeds he has done,

Free yourself from his hands once the truth is spun.

For if you leave him alive, that artless one,

He will not let you live another day under the sun.

And if he places his head in service at your door,

If he gains a hand, he will sever your head forevermore.

Do not follow the deceiver

If you go and see, do not give him security

I completely killed that wretch with a stone

For from the dead, there is no more story

When I saw that I had caused a commotion

I left that land and fled

If you set fire to a reed bed

Beware of the lions if you are wise

Do not kill the baby snake of the venomous man

If you kill, do not stay in that house

If you disturb the beehive

Flee from the place lest you be caught

Do not shoot an arrow at someone more agile than yourself

When he falls, grab his hem with your teeth

There is no such advice in Saadi's pages

That when you dig by the wall, you should not stand

I came to India after that resurrection

And from there on the way to Yemen to Hajiz

Of all the hardships I endured

My mouth has not tasted sweetness until today

In the fortune and support of Abu Bakr Saad

Whom no mother has borne before or after

I came seeking justice from the tyranny of fate

I sought refuge in this shadowy protector

I pray for this kingdom like a servant

Oh God, keep this shade everlasting

For I placed a salve not to heal a wound

But to suit his grace and honor

How can I repay this gratitude for the blessings

Even if my head turns into feet in service?

I found relief after those bonds

Still, I hear those counsels in my ears

One is that whenever I raise a hand in need

I raise it to the gate of the Knower of secrets

I recall that Chinese beauty of mine,

Who blinds her eyes with dust, a sign.

I know that the hand I have raised,

Was not by my own strength, but by grace.

The true-hearted do not withdraw their hand,

For they pull the thread from the unseen land.

In goodness, the door is open, and obedience too,

But not everyone is capable of actions true.

This is the barrier in the royal hall,

No one can enter, except by the king's call.

The key to fate is not in anyone's hand,

The absolute power belongs only to God, the grand.

So, O man, walking on the righteous path,

You need not gratitude, for the Lord is just, at last.

When in the unseen, your nature was blessed,

No vile action will emerge from your soul, expressed.

From the bee, this sweetness was made clear,

The same one who made poison in the snake appear.

If He wills to ruin your realm, with might,

He first disturbs your people, causing plight.

And if mercy is bestowed upon you, it’s true,

He will bring comfort from you to others too.

Do not be proud on the path of right,

For your hand was raised by others in the fight.

Words are beneficial if you truly hear,

You reach men when you follow the path clear.

You will find a position if they guide your way,

Where on the feast of honor, your seat will stay.

But you must not eat alone, be wise,

Remember the poor who have no prize.

You send it forth, only with mercy in heart,

For you cannot trust the deeds from which you depart.