Chapter One: On Justice, Governance and Counsel

I heard that as his soul was slipping away, Nowshirvan said this to Hormoz: Care for the hearts of the poor; do not chase only your own comfort. No one in your land will rest if you seek nothing but your own ease. The wise never approve of a shepherd asleep while the wolf tears the sheep. Go, protect the needy and the poor, for a king wears his crown only through his people. The people are the roots and the king the tree; my son, a tree is only as strong as its roots. As long as you can, do not wound the hearts of the people; if you do, you are digging out your own roots. If you want a straight path, follow the way of the devout: hope and fear. A man becomes wise through the hope of good and the fear of evil. If both of these are found in a king, his realm and reign will have a firm foundation. For he shows mercy to those who hope, hoping himself for the mercy of God. He will not approve harming others, since he fears harm coming to his own realm. But if this trait is not in his nature, there is no scent of peace in that country. If you are tied to the place, learn to accept it; but if you can ride free, save yourself and go. Do not expect prosperity in a land where you see the people bitter toward their king. Fear the arrogant and the reckless; the man who does not fear God, fear him. It is another thing to dream of a flourishing land while the hearts of its people lie in ruins. Ruin and disgrace come from tyranny; let the far-sighted weigh these words deeply. The people should not be killed through injustice, for they are the shelter and support of the throne. Treat the farmer well, for your own sake, since a contented laborer does more work. It is not decency to do harm to someone from whom you have received much kindness. I heard that Khosrow said to Shiruyeh, in the moment his eyes closed forever: Strive so that whatever you intend, you keep the welfare of the people in view. Do not turn your head away from justice and good judgment, so that the people do not slip from your grasp. The people flee from a tyrant and spread his ugly name across the world. It is not long before the one who laid a bad foundation sees his own foundation torn down. The swordsman causes destruction, but not as much as the smoke rising from the hearts of a child and a woman. A lamp lit by a widow, as you have often seen, can burn a whole city down. Who in all the world is more blessed than the one who ruled his kingdom with fairness? When his time comes to leave this passing world, people send mercy upon his grave. Since both the good and the wicked pass away, it is better that they speak your name with kindness. Set a God-fearing man over the people, for the pious one is the builder of a kingdom. He is your enemy and the people's bloodsucker who seeks your gain by tormenting the people. It is a mistake to place power in the hands of those whose hands drive people to raise their hands to God. One who fosters the good sees no harm; if you foster the wicked, you become your own enemy. Do not punish a harmful man with a mere fine, for his roots must be torn out from the ground. Do not be patient with an official who loves oppression, for once he grows fat you will have to flay him. The wolf's head should be cut off at the very start, before he mangles people like sheep. How well the captive merchant spoke, when bandits surrounded him with arrows: When bravery comes from highway robbers, what does it matter, an army of men or a troop of women? The king who wounds a merchant has shut the door of prosperity on his city and his army. Why would the wise ever go there again, once they hear the report of such bad ways? If you want a good name and to earn goodness, treat the merchant and the envoy well. Great men cherish the traveler with all their heart, so that they carry a good name through the world. That kingdom will soon fall to ruin from which the stranger leaves with a wounded heart. Be a friend to strangers and a lover of travelers, for the traveler carries a good name far and wide. Treat the guest and traveler with honor, but also be on guard against harm from them. It is wise to be wary of the stranger, for an enemy can come dressed as a friend. A stranger whose head is full of mischief: do not harm him, but drive him out of your country. It is fine if you do not lash out at him in anger, for his own evil nature dogs him like an enemy. But if his homeland is Persia itself, do not banish him to Sana'a, or the Slav lands, or Rome. Do not even grant him safety there until midday; it is not right to unleash a plague upon others. For they would say: cursed be that soil from which such people come. Raise the standing of your old servants, for one who has been nurtured never turns to treachery. When your servant has grown old in your service, do not forget the claim of his years. If old age has stilled his hand from service, your hand is still free to be generous. I heard that Shapur fell silent when Khosrow struck his name off the pension roll. When his condition was ruined by poverty, he wrote this tale to the king: Since I spent my youth in your service, do not drive me away in my old age. If you give an office, entrust it to a man of means, for a pauper feels no fear of the king. Once a pauper bows his neck under the yoke, nothing comes from him but wailing. When an inspector withdraws his hands from honesty, an overseer must be set over him. And if that overseer too conspires with him, dismiss both the inspector and his overseer. The keeper of a trust must be God-fearing; a trustee who fears only you, do not trust him. The trustworthy man should be one anxious about God's judgment, not merely afraid of the court, the whip, and death. Weigh, count, and stay watchful, for out of a hundred you will not find one who is honest. Two old companions of the same kind should not be posted together in one place. How do you know they will not join hands and become allies: one the thief, the other the one who covers for him? When thieves are wary and fearful of one another, a caravan passes safely between them. When you dismiss someone from his post, after some time has passed, forgive his fault. Fulfilling the wish of one who hopes is better than breaking a thousand chains. If the pillar of a clerk's office collapses, do not let it sever the rope of his hope. A just king grows angry with his subjects the way a father grows angry with his son. Sometimes he strikes him until it hurts, and sometimes he wipes the tears from his eyes. If you are too gentle, your foe grows bold; if you show only anger, they grow weary of you. Firmness and gentleness together are best, like the lancer who is both surgeon and healer. Be brave, good-natured, and generous; as God pours upon you, pour upon others. No one has come into this world and stayed, except the one who left behind a good name. He has not died who leaves behind him a bridge, a well, a caravanserai, or an inn. Whoever leaves no memorial after him: the tree of his life bore no fruit. And if he passed away leaving no trace of good, there is no point in reciting a blessing after his death. If you want your name to last forever, do not hide the good names of great men. Read this same lesson about the age after your own that you have seen in the age of the kings before you. They too held all this pleasure, luxury, and joy; in the end they left it all and were gone. One carried a good name out of the world; from another, a bad legacy remained forever. Do not listen with approval to slander of anyone; and if it is spoken, get to the bottom of it. Grant the offender the excuse of forgetfulness; when they beg for mercy, give them mercy. If an offender comes seeking shelter, it is no rule to kill him for a first offense. When you have advised him once and he ignores the counsel, discipline him with prison and chains. And if neither counsel nor chains work on him, he is a poisonous tree: pull him out by the roots. When anger rises in you over someone's fault, think long and hard before you punish. For it is easy to shatter a ruby of Badakhshan, but once broken it can never be joined again.

A man came up from the sea of Oman, having crossed many plains and many seas. He had seen Arab and Turk, Persian and Greek; in his pure soul lived learning of every kind. He had roamed the world and gathered knowledge, traveled far and learned the art of good talk. Strong of frame, like a sturdy tree, yet stripped bare and left in hard want. Two hundred patches stitched one over another from rags, and he burned inside them all the while. He came from the shore into a city whose ruler was a great man of that region, a nature that cared for a good name, humbly laying his head at the feet of the poor. The king's servants washed him, his head and body, at the bathhouse, clean of the road's dust. When he set his head on the king's threshold, he pressed his hand to his chest in praise. He entered the royal hall, saying: 'May your fortune be young and your good luck last.' 'I have not stopped anywhere in this land where I saw a single heart hurt by harm.' 'I saw no one made heavy-headed by wine, unless it was the tavern itself, lying in ruins.' 'For a king this one ornament is enough: that he refuses to bring anyone pain.' He spoke and scattered pearls from his hem, with speech that made the king shake out his sleeve in praise. The beauty of the man's words pleased him; he called him near and treated him with honor. He gave him gold and jewels to thank him for coming, and asked about his lineage, birth, and homeland. He told all that was asked about his past, and in closeness he rose above the others. The king debated within his own heart whether to hand him the office of vizier. 'But let it be gradual, so the court won't mock my judgment for its haste.' 'First I must test his intelligence, and raise his rank to match his skill.' Many times grief's cruelty burdens the heart of one who does things untested. When a judge writes his ruling after thought, he won't be shamed before the learned men. Take aim while the arrow's notch is still on the string, not after you have already loosed it. Someone as sound and discerning as Joseph needs a full year to become dear and trusted. Until much time has passed, no one can be plumbed to his depths. He uncovered his character in every way: the man was wise and clean of faith. He found him good in conduct and clear in reason, weighing his words and knowing people's worth. By judgment he saw him greater than the nobles, and seated him above his own chief minister. He applied such wisdom and knowledge that none felt distress at his commands or bans. He brought a whole kingdom under his pen without bringing pain to a single living soul. He silenced every fault-finder's tongue, for no one could catch him in a single wrong word. The envious man who found not one grain of treachery in him writhed uselessly, like wheat parching in a pan. The king's rule took light from his bright heart, and a fresh grief seized the old vizier. He could find no crack in that wise man through which to hurl an insult. The honest man and the schemer are like a basin and an ant: you cannot bore a hole through them by force. The king had two servant boys, each with a face bright as the sun, forever standing ready at his side. Two spotless figures, like houri and fairy, each pure as the sun and moon in their own way. Two faces so alike you would say there was only one, showing its own twin in a mirror. The sweet-spoken sage's words took hold in both those slender, cypress-tall youths. When they saw how fine his character and manners were, they naturally became his well-wishers and friends. In him too, human affection stirred, but not the base inclination of the shortsighted. He knew no peace except when he could gaze upon their faces. If you want your standing to stay lofty, sir, do not lose your heart to smooth-faced youths. And even if there is no ill intent involved, beware, for it damages your dignity. The vizier caught a hint of this and, with malice, carried the tale to the king. He said: I do not know what to call this man or who he is; he will not live decently in this land. Wanderers live carelessly, for they were not raised in the bosom of kingdom and fortune. I have heard he has a secret with your servant boys, that he favors treachery and worships lust. Such a shameless, corrupt fellow should not stay, for he brings disgrace into the king's palace. Should I forget the king's bounty, that I would see corruption and stay silent? One should not speak hastily on mere suspicion; I did not tell you until I was certain. One of my trusted men kept watch and saw him hold the boy in his embrace. I have said my piece; now the king can judge. As I have tested him, so test him yourself. He described it in the ugliest terms, hoping no good day would ever come to the good man. Once the schemer got hold of a small pretext, he set the hearts of the great men ablaze. With a small spark you can start a fire, and then burn down even the ancient tree. This news inflamed the king so much that he seethed and boiled over like a cauldron. His anger reached for the poor man's blood, but calm held its hand out before him. For killing one you have raised is no act of manhood, and returning cruelty for kindness is cold-heartedness. Do not harm the one you have nurtured; when he is your own arrow, do not shoot at him with an arrow. You should not have raised him on your favor if you meant to make him suffer unjustly. Until his talents were proven to you, he should not have become your companion in the royal court. Now, until his guilt is certain to you, do not wish him harm on an enemy's word. The king kept this secret hidden in his heart, for he had listened to the counsel of the wise. The heart, wise one, is the prison of a secret; once spoken, it cannot be chained again. He quietly watched the man's conduct, and found a flaw in the shrewd man's judgment. For suddenly the man glanced at a servant, an angel-faced one, and smiled beneath his lips. Two people whose hearts and minds are one keep telling their story even while silent. Once your eyes grow bold in gazing, you never get your fill, like a man with dropsy at the Tigris. The king's suspicion proved true, and out of frustration he was about to turn on him in anger. But with fine judgment and full wisdom, he said to him gently: my good man, I had thought you wise; I trusted you with the secrets of the realm. I believed you clever and sharp; I did not know you were reckless and unworthy. Such a high station is no place for you; the fault is mine, not your error. For if I raise someone base, of course he will think betrayal fit within my own household. The learned man lifted his head and spoke to the discerning king: Since my hem is clean of any crime, I have no fear of a malicious enemy's slander. This thought never crossed my mind; I don't know who accused me of what I never did. The king said: what I said to you, let your rivals repeat it to your face. The old vizier told me this about you; now say and do whatever you know is right. Smiling, the man laid a finger on his lips: nothing that comes from him could surprise me. How could an envious man who sees me in his place ever speak of me except with ill? The moment the king set me above him, I already counted him my enemy. When the king grants me precedence over him, don't you know he becomes my enemy behind my back? He will not take me as a friend till the day of judgment, since he sees his own disgrace in my honor. On this I will tell you a true story, if you will first lend your servant your ear. I don't recall where I read it in some book: a man saw Satan in a dream, tall as a cypress, beautiful as a houri, light streaming from his face like the sun. He stepped forward and said: how strange, is this really you? No angel could be this lovely. You, with a face as fair as the moon, why are you known throughout the world for ugliness? Why does your portrait in the king's palace look so grim, ugly, and ruined? The wretched, ill-fated man heard this and cried out in bitter grief. He said: My good sir, this is not my true likeness; the brush was in the hand of my enemy. In the same way my name is good, but the malicious never speak well of anyone. The minister whose plots have washed away my standing, one must flee his cunning by miles. Yet I do not fear the king's anger; the innocent man is bold when he speaks. It is the one whose scale weights are short who dreads the arrival of the inspector. When my letters come out true from the pen, why should I fear those who nitpick words? The king was struck by how well he spoke, and raised his commanding hand. He said: A guilty man is not cleared of his crime by flattery and glib talk. It is not that I only heard about you from your rival; have I not seen it with my own eyes? Of all the crowd in this court, your gaze rests on no one but these young men. The eloquent man smiled and said: This is true, and the truth should not be hidden. There is a point in this, if you will hear it, may your rule endure and your fortune stay strong. Do you not see how the poor man with nothing looks longingly at the rich? My youth and vigor are gone; my life passed in idle amusement and play. I cannot help gazing at these young men, for they hold the wealth of beauty and grace. I too once had a rose-colored face and a body as flawless as crystal. Now my shroud must be spun; my hair is like cotton and my body the spindle. I too once had jet-black curls, and my coat clung tight over a delicate frame. Two rows of pearl-white teeth stood in my mouth, like a wall built of silver bricks. Now look at me when I speak: they have fallen out one by one, like old ruined stones. Why should I not look at these youths with longing, when they remind me of the life I wasted? Those precious days are gone from me, and this day too will suddenly reach its end. When the wise man had pierced this pearl of meaning, the king said: No one could say it better than this. The king looked at the pillars of his court and said: Ask for no finer words or meaning than these. Only he may gaze at the beautiful who can give such a reason for gazing. Had I not acted with reason and restraint, I would have wronged him on his rival's word. To reach hastily for the sword in anger is to end up biting the back of your hand in regret. Do not listen to one who has a grudge, for if you act on it, you will be sorry. He raised the honest man's rank, honor, and wealth, and punished the slanderer. Through the wisdom and counsel of his learned minister, his name spread with goodness across his kingdom. For years he ruled with justice and generosity; he passed on, and his good name remained. Such kings, the ones who nurture faith, win the prize of good fortune by the strength of their faith. I see no one like them in this age, and if there is one, it is Abu Bakr Sa'd, no other. You are a tree of paradise, my king, casting a shade that stretches a full year's journey wide. It was the hope of my lucky star that the wing of the phoenix would spread over my head. Reason said: the phoenix grants no fortune; if you want good luck, come into this shade instead. My God, you have looked with mercy, for you have spread this shade over the people. Like a servant I pray for this reign: my God, keep this shade lasting. It is wise to restrain before you strike, for you cannot rejoin the head of the slain. The master of command, judgment, and majesty is not worn down by the clamor of the crowd. A head full of pride but empty of patience has no right to the crown of kingship. I do not say, stand firm when you wage war; I say, when anger rises, keep your reason in place. Whoever has reason shows restraint, not the kind of reason that anger overpowers. When anger charges from ambush like an army, neither fairness, nor piety, nor faith remains. I have never seen a demon like this under the sky, one from whom so many kingdoms flee.

By religious law, drinking water is no sin, yet if a proper ruling calls for it, even shedding blood is allowed. If the law issues a verdict of death for someone, only then may you kill him without fear of guilt. And if you know he has family in his line, have pity on them and bring them comfort. The crime belonged to the man who did the wrong; why should his helpless wife and child pay the price? Your body is strong and your army is vast, but do not go rampaging through the enemy's land. For he will flee to some high fortress, while a blameless country takes the harm. Look closely at the state of prisoners, for among them there may well be the innocent. When a merchant dies within your borders, to lay hands on his goods is a vile theft. For after they weep bitterly over him, his kin and relatives will say to one another: That poor man died in a foreign land, and the tyrant carried off whatever he left behind. Think of that little fatherless child, and beware the sigh from his grieving heart. A good name of fifty years, often, a single ugly name will trample into the dust. Those praised for their deeds, whose names live forever, never seized the property of ordinary people. Even if a man is king over the whole world, once he takes wealth from the rich, he is a beggar. The free-hearted man died in poverty, but never filled his belly at the poor man's expense.

I heard of a just commander whose cloak was lined with plain cloth on both sides. Someone said to him: O fortunate king, have a coat made of fine Chinese silk instead. He replied: this much covers me and keeps me comfortable; anything beyond that is mere show and ornament. I do not collect taxes so I can decorate myself, my throne, and my crown. If I dress in fine robes like a woman, how will I fight off the enemy as a man should? I too feel a hundred kinds of greed and desire, but the treasury does not belong to me alone. The treasury is full for the sake of the army, not for finery and jewelry. An army that is not content with its king will not guard the borders of the land. When the enemy carries off the villager's donkey, why should the king still take his tribute and his tenth? If the enemy takes his donkey and the sultan takes his tax, what good fortune remains in that throne and crown? The people are like a tree: if you nurture it, you will enjoy its fruit to your heart's content. Do not cruelly tear it out by the roots and strip its fruit; only a fool harms his own interest. There is no honor in bullying the fallen; a vile bird steals the seed from the ant. Those who do not press hard on their subjects are the ones who enjoy their youth and good fortune. If someone beneath you is crushed underfoot, beware of his cry rising to God against you. When a land can be won gently, do not draw blood by making war. I swear by manhood: the whole kingdom of the earth is not worth a single drop of blood spilled on the ground. I heard that Jamshid, of blessed nature, carved on a stone beside a spring: Many like us breathed a while beside this spring, then left in the blink of an eye. We seized the world by strength and force, yet we carried none of it into the grave. When you have power over an enemy, do not torment him; his own defeat is grief enough for him. A defeated enemy left alive and wandering around you is better than his blood on your neck, slain.

I heard that Darius, of blessed lineage, got separated from his army during a hunt one day. A herdsman came running toward him, and the fortunate king said to himself: Perhaps this is an enemy coming to fight; from a distance I will pierce him with a poplar arrow. He drew the royal bow taut and in an instant meant to turn the man's life into nothing. The man cried: My lord of Iran and Turan, may the evil eye stay far from your days. I am the one who raises the king's horses; I serve here in this pasture. The king's frightened heart returned to him; he laughed and said: You of poor judgment, The blessed angel came to your aid, or else I would have set the string to my ear and shot. The keeper of the meadow smiled and said: A rich man should not hide sound advice. It is neither praiseworthy planning nor good sense that a great king cannot tell his enemy from his friend. The rule of living in high rank is this: that you know every lesser man and who he is. You have seen me many times at court; you have asked me about the herds and the pastures. Now that I came to greet you with love, you cannot tell me apart from someone who wishes you harm. I can, O renowned king, single out one horse from among a hundred thousand. I herd with intelligence and judgment; you too should watch over your own flock. That throne and kingdom were bound for ruin and grief where the king's planning fell short of a shepherd's.

How would you ever hear the cry of one who begs for justice, when the roof of your bedroom rises to the stars? Sleep in such a way that if someone wronged raises a shout, the sound of their pain reaches your ears. When they cry out against the tyrant of your realm, know that every cruelty he commits is your cruelty. It was not the dog that tore the caravan's traveler, but the foolish farmer who raised the dog. You have spoken boldly, Saadi; since the blade is in your hand, win a victory. Say what you know, for it is best to speak the truth: take no bribe and offer no flattery. Close the door on greed and wash your page clean by wisdom; cut off desire, and say all that you know.

A tyrant in Iraq once heard the words a beggar spoke from under an archway: You too stand hopeful at a door, so answer the hopes of those who wait at yours. If you don't want your own heart to ache, then free the hearts of the aching from their chains. The troubled heart of someone seeking justice can topple a king from his throne. You sleep in cool comfort at noon inside your palace, while you tell the stranger outside to burn in the heat. God himself becomes the one who claims justice for the person who cannot demand it from the king.

One of the great discerning men tells a story about Umar ibn Abd al-Aziz. He owned a gemstone set in a ring, so precious that a jeweler could not put a price on it. At night it seemed to hold within its heart a door to daylight, glowing bright as day. As fate would have it, a drought set in, and the full moons of people's faces wasted to thin crescents. When he saw the people had no peace and no food, he found no honor in living comfortably himself. When someone sees poison in the mouths of the people, how can sweet water pass down his own throat? He ordered the gem sold for silver, for pity had seized him for the stranger and the orphan. Within a week he gave the money away completely, handing it to the poor, the destitute, the needy. People fell to blaming him: 'You will never find such a jewel in your hand again.' I have heard that he spoke while a rain of tears ran down his cheeks like a burning candle. 'It is ugly for a king to wear jewels while the heart of a city is wounded by hardship.' 'A ring without a gem suits me well enough; a whole people's grieving heart does not.' Blessed is the one who chooses the ease of men and women over adorning himself. The virtuous have never taken joy for themselves at the price of others' sorrow. If the king sleeps soundly on his throne, I doubt the poor man can sleep in peace. But if the king stays awake late into the night, the people can sleep in comfort and ease. Thank God, this conduct and this straight path belong to Atabak Abu Bakr ibn Sa'd. No one sees any other trace of turmoil in Fars now, except the swaying figures of the beautiful. Five lines pleased my ear, sung last night at a gathering. 'My whole comfort in life came from last night, when that moon-faced beauty lay in my arms.' 'When I saw her, her head still drunk with sleep, I said: O cypress, before you the tall cypress bows low.' 'Wash your narcissus eyes of sweet sleep for a moment; laugh like a rosebush, sing like a nightingale.' 'Why do you sleep, O turmoil of the age? Come, bring the sweet ruby wine.' 'Half-awake, she looked up from sleep and said: You call me turmoil, then tell me not to sleep?' 'In the days of a sultan whose spirit shines so bright, no one sees turmoil awake again.'

In the chronicles of the old kings there is a tale: when Takla took the throne of Zangi in all his reign he harmed no one. If that were his only virtue, it would be enough to set him ahead. One day he said to a wise and spiritual man: 'My life is passing by, and I have nothing to show for it.' 'I want to sit in a quiet corner and worship, to make the most of these few brief days I have left.' 'Since rank and kingdom and throne all pass away, none carries fortune out of this world except the humble poor.' When the clear-souled sage heard this, he flared up sharply and cried, 'Enough, Takla!' 'The true path is nothing but serving people; it is not found in prayer beads, prayer mats, and patched cloaks.' 'Stay on your royal throne, but carry the pure character of a dervish within you.' 'Gird yourself with sincerity and devotion; hold your tongue from empty boasts and grand claims.' 'The path calls for action, not mere talk; talk without steps taken has no substance.' 'The great ones who truly possessed purity wore the dervish's cloak hidden beneath their robes.'

I heard that the king of Rome wept before a good and learned man, saying: The enemy has taken everything; nothing is left to me but this fortress and city. I worked so hard so that my son might one day lead the assembly after me. Now a base enemy has gained the upper hand, and all my manly effort has come to nothing. What plan can I make, what cure can I find, when grief is wearing my soul away inside me? The wise man said: Brother, grieve for yourself, for most of your life is already spent and gone. It is enough that you last as long as you do; once you leave, the world belongs to someone else. Whether your heir is clever or a fool, do not grieve for him; he will bear his own grief. It is not worth the pain of holding the world, seizing it by the sword and then leaving it behind. Do not take pride in these five short days of your stay; think instead and prepare for departure. Which of the Persian kings can you name, from the days of Fereydun, Zahhak, and Jamshid, whose throne and kingdom did not fall to ruin? Nothing endures except the kingdom of God most high. Who can still hope to live forever, when you see no one who stays forever? Whoever leaves behind silver, gold, treasure, and wealth, before long it is trampled by others. But the one who leaves a lasting good deed, mercy keeps reaching his soul again and again. A great man who leaves no good name behind, the wise may as well say he never lived. So keep planting and tending the tree of generosity, if you hope one day to eat its fruit. Be generous, for tomorrow when the accounts are set out, ranks will be given in measure of the kindness you showed. The one whose steps of striving ran ahead will hold a higher place at the court of God. The other, drawn back, treacherous and ashamed, trembles as one who left his work undone. Let him bite the back of his hand in regret: such a hot oven was ready, yet he baked no bread. At harvest time you will understand that failing to sow the seed was pure laziness.

A wise man in a far corner of Syria took up his home in the recess of a cave, apart from the world. In that dark corner he made his place with patience, his feet settled deep in the treasure of contentment. I heard his name was Khodadust, God's friend; an angel in nature, human only in skin. The great laid their heads at his door, for he would never bow his head at anyone's door. The pure, self-sacrificing mystic craves one thing: to beg from his own soul the abandonment of greed. For each hour his appetite tells him, 'Give in,' and drags him from village to village in disgrace. In the land where this clear-sighted old man lived there was a cruel border warden. Whenever he found some helpless person, he would clench his fist and crush them with his strength. A world-burner, merciless, killing without cause; from his bitterness a whole world's face turned sour. One group fled from that oppression and shame, and carried his evil name through the towns. Another group stayed behind, poor and wounded, and set the wheel of cursing him turning. Where the hand of tyranny grows long, you will never see people's lips parted in a smile. Now and then he came to visit the sheikh, but Khodadust would not even glance at him. One time the warden said to him: 'O fortunate one, do not turn your face away from me in disgust. You know I mean to be your friend; why do you hold this enmity against me? Grant that I am not the leader of the land, yet in honor I stand no lower than a dervish. I don't ask you to place me above anyone, just treat me the way you treat all others.' The clear-minded worshipper heard these words, grew stirred, and said: 'O warden, pay attention. Your very existence is the source of people's misery, and I do not love the misery of people. You are the enemy of the very ones I love; I cannot imagine that you are a friend to me. Why should I falsely hold you dear, when I know that God holds you as an enemy? Do not kiss my hand as though you were my friend; go instead and love the ones I love. Even if they tear the skin from Khodadust, he will never make a friend of his beloved's enemy. I marvel at the sleep of that hard-hearted man, when a whole people lie awake sick at heart because of him.'

Great one, do not throw your weight around against the small, for the world does not stay the same forever. Do not twist the fist of the weak, for if he gets the upper hand, you will be left with nothing. Never count your enemy as small, for I have seen huge mountains made of tiny stones. Don't you see, when ants band together they can overwhelm the fiercest lions? Not just ants: even a hair, which is finer still, becomes a strong chain once it is braided together. I told you: do not sweep people off their feet, for if you yourself fall, you will be helpless. The united hearts of friends are worth more than treasure; an empty vault is better than people in torment. Do not trample anyone under your feet, for it may happen that you fall many times at theirs. Endure the strong, you who are weak, for one day you may grow stronger than he is. With resolve, raise an uproar against the stubborn tyrant, for the arm of resolve is better than the fist of force. Tell the parched lips of the oppressed to smile, for the teeth of the oppressor will be pulled out. The master woke only to the beat of the drum; how would he know how the night watchman spent the night? The caravan owner worries about his own load; his heart does not ache for the donkey's wounded back. Suppose you are not one of the fallen: when you see someone fallen, why not lift him up? For this I will tell you a tale, for to skip past these words would be a weakness.

A famine struck Damascus so severe that friends forgot the meaning of love. The sky turned so stingy toward the earth that crops and palm trees never wet a lip. The ancient springs all dried away; no water was left but the tears of orphans. If smoke rose from any chimney at all, it was nothing but the sigh of a widow. I saw the trees pale as a beggar, their strong branches gone weak and helpless. No green on the mountains, no growth in the gardens; locusts had eaten the orchards, and people ate the locusts. In that state, a friend came up to me, reduced to nothing but skin on bone. Though he had once been rich and comfortable, a man of rank and gold and wealth. I said to him: my good and gentle friend, tell me, what hardship has fallen on you? He snapped at me: where is your sense? When you already know, to ask is a mistake. Can't you see the hardship has reached its peak, that misery has reached its very end? No rain comes down from the sky, and no smoke of pleading rises up. I said to him: but you have nothing to fear; poison kills only where there is no antidote. If others perish from having nothing, you still have plenty; what does a duck care about a flood? The learned man looked at me, hurt, the way a wise man looks at a fool. He said: even if a man stands safe on the shore, my friend, he finds no rest while his friends are drowning. My face is not pale from my own poverty; the grief of the poor has turned my face pale. A wise man never wants to see a wound, neither on another's body nor on his own. I am among the first of the healthy whose body shakes at the sight of a wound. The comfort of the healthy man is spoiled when he lies beside someone frail and sick. When I see that the wretched poor go hungry, every bite in my mouth is poison and pain. If someone's friends are locked in prison, how can he enjoy his ease in a garden?

One night the smoke of people's grief set a fire ablaze; I heard that half of Baghdad burned to the ground. Amid that ash and smoke, one man gave thanks: 'At least my shop took no harm.' A man who had seen the world said to him, 'You shallow fool, was your own sorrow the only thing that mattered to you?' Would you be content to see a whole city burn, just because your own house stood at the edge and was spared? Only a heart of stone stays full and untroubled when it sees others tying stones to their empty bellies from hunger. How can the rich man swallow his food when he sees the poor man choking on his own blood? Don't call the man beside the sick bed healthy, for he writhes with grief as if he were the patient himself. The tender-hearted, when their friends reach shelter, cannot sleep, knowing others are left stranded behind. The hearts of true kings grow heavy with others' burdens when they see a donkey stuck in the mud under its load of thorns. If anyone truly lives in the house of happiness, one word from Saadi's counsel is enough for him. This much is enough for you, if you will only listen: plant thorns and you will never harvest jasmine.

Have you heard about the old kings of Persia, who oppressed the people beneath them? Neither their splendor and power endured, nor did their cruelty toward the villager last. See the wrong that a tyrant's hand committed: the world went on, but he departed with his crimes. Blessed on Judgment Day is the body of the just ruler, for he finds his place in the shade of God's throne. To a people whose good God desires, He gives a king who is just and wise in counsel. But when He wills a world to fall to ruin, He places its kingdom in a tyrant's grip. Good men keep their distance from such a man, for a tyrant is the wrath of God made real. Know your greatness comes from Him and be grateful, for the blessing of the ungrateful slips away. If you give thanks for this kingdom and wealth, you will reach a wealth and kingdom that never fades. But if you rule with cruelty, after your reign you will end up begging. Sweet sleep is forbidden to a king while the weak bear the burden of the strong. Do not harm a common man by even a grain, for the king is the shepherd and the people his flock. When they meet only strife and injustice from him, he is no shepherd but a wolf: cry out against him. He came to a bad end and thought wickedly, the one who made cruelty toward his subjects his trade. Through hardship and weakness he will pass on, but a bad name will cling to him for years. If you do not want the lowly to curse you, be good, so no one speaks ill of you.

I heard that on a border in the West, two brothers lived, born of one father. Both were commanders, proud and mighty as elephants, handsome, wise, and skilled with the sword. The father found each of them a formidable man, eager for the battlefield and combat. So he divided that land into two parts and gave each son his share. So that they would not rise against each other and draw the sword of vengeance in war. After that the father lived a while longer, then surrendered his sweet life to the Creator. Death cut the rope of his hopes; his passing sealed his hand from all doing. The kingdom passed to the two kings, whose treasure and armies were beyond count. By their own judgment they set their course; each of them chose a different path. One chose justice, to win a good name; the other chose oppression, to pile up wealth. One made compassion his way of life: he gave out coins and cared for the poor. He built, he fed people, he honored his soldiers; at night he made shelters for the poor. He emptied his coffers and filled his ranks, so that among the people, in times of joy, the shouts of gladness rose like thunder, as in Shiraz in the days of Abu Bakr Saad. A wise and blessed sovereign, may the branch of his hope grow full with fruit. Hear the tale: that seeker of good name was of praiseworthy ways and happy temper. Devoted to comforting both high and low, praising God at morning and evening. In his land even a Croesus could travel boldly, for the king was just and the poor were content. In his days no heart was pricked, I will not say by a thorn, but not even by a rose petal. By God's aid he rose above all the great; even proud lords bowed their heads to his command. The other wished to grow his throne and crown, so he raised the taxes on the farmer. He coveted the merchants' wealth; he poured misery on the lives of the helpless. In hope of more, he neither gave nor spent; any wise man knows he did wrong. The more gold he gathered by cunning, the more his army scattered from neglect. The merchants heard the news that oppression ruled in that incompetent's realm. They cut off their trade there; the crops failed and the peasants burned in want. When his fortune turned its face from friendship, his enemy easily gained the upper hand. The strife of fate tore up his root and fruit; the hooves of the enemy's horses dug up his land. Where do you seek loyalty when the pact is broken? From whom do you demand taxes when the farmer has fled? What good can that heartless man expect, when curses trail behind his back? Since his luck was upside down from the start, he did not do what good people told him to do. What did the good tell that good man? Enjoy your reward, for the tyrant reaps none. His guess was wrong, his plan was weak: what he sought through cruelty lay in justice all along. A man sat on a branch, cutting its base; the garden's owner watched and saw him. He said: if this man does harm, it is not to me but to his own self he does it. Here is good advice, if you will hear it: do not throw the weak beneath the shoulder of the strong. For tomorrow, before the Judge, even a beggar not worth a grain to you now may carry off kingship. If you want to be his master tomorrow, do not make an enemy of the lowly today. For when this power passes from you, that beggar will seize your skirt in fury. Do not do it: keep your hand off the weak, for if they throw you down you will be shamed. For it is ugly in the eyes of the noble to be brought down by those already fallen. The great, bright of heart and blessed by fortune, won crown and throne through wisdom. Do not walk crooked behind the upright; and if you want the truth, hear it from Saadi.

Don't say a throne is the highest rank there is; nothing is safer than the poor dervish's peace. Those who travel light move faster. This is the truth, and the wise take it to heart. The empty-handed man worries only about one loaf; the ruler of the world must feed a whole world. When the beggar finally gets his evening bread, he sleeps as soundly as the king of Syria. Sorrow and joy alike come to an end; death lifts them both away from your head. It makes no difference: the one crowned with a diadem, or the one bent under the burden of tribute. Whether your head is held high above the stars, or you sit destitute in a prison cell, once death's cavalry has charged over them both, you can no longer tell one from the other.

I heard that once, in a town called Hilla, a skull spoke with a devout man. It said: I once held the glory of command; on my head I wore a crown of power. Fortune backed me, victory and harmony were mine; with the strength of Iraq I seized my prize. I had set my greed on devouring Kerman, when suddenly the worms devoured my head. Pull the cotton of heedlessness from the ear of your mind, so that the dead may bring their lesson to your ears.

A good person means no harm to anyone; do no evil, and good will come to you. Whoever stirs up harm ends up harmed himself, like a scorpion that is crushed near its own nest. If there is no benefit to others in your nature, then a jewel and a common stone are one and the same. I misspoke, my worthy friend: there is at least some use in iron, stone, and bronze. Such a shameful human is better off dead, for even a stone holds more worth than he does. Not every human is better than a beast; a beast is better than an evil human. A wise person is better than a beast, but not the person who preys on people like a beast. When a human knows nothing but eating and sleeping, what makes him any better than the animals? A lost rider with no guide loses the race to the one who travels on foot. No one has ever sown the seed of goodness without harvesting a full field of his heart's desire. Never once in my whole life have I heard that good fortune came to an evil person.

A tyrant had fallen into a well, one so terrifying that even a lion cowered before him. A man of ill will toward others never met with anything but ill; now he had fallen, and found no one more helpless than himself. All night he lay awake, crying and wailing, until someone struck his head with a stone and said: Did you ever once come to anyone's aid, that today you cry out for a rescuer? You planted nothing but the seeds of cruelty; see now the harvest you must gather. Who would lay a balm on your wounded soul, when hearts still ache from the wounds you gave them? You dug a pit for us on the road; no wonder you fell headfirst into a pit yourself. Two kinds of people dig wells for the public: one leaves a good name, the other a foul one. One digs to refresh a thirsty throat; the other digs so that people fall in up to their necks. If you do evil, expect no good in return, for a tamarisk tree never bears grapes. I don't imagine, you who sow barley in autumn, that you'll gather wheat at harvest time. If you nurture the bitter zaqqum tree with all your heart, never think you'll taste sweet fruit from it. The oleander branch bears no dates; whatever seed you cast, expect exactly that.

They tell of a certain good man who refused to pay homage to Hajjaj ibn Yusuf. Hajjaj shot a sharp look at his chief officer: 'Throw down the mat and spill his blood.' When the tyrant has no argument left, he twists his face into rage and picks a fight. The man of God laughed and then wept, and the hard hearted, dark minded ruler was amazed. Seeing him laugh and then cry, Hajjaj asked, 'What is this laughing and weeping about?' He said, 'I weep at my fate, for I have four helpless little children.' 'And I laugh at the pure God's grace, that I go to my grave wronged, not as the wrongdoer.' The ruler's son said, 'O renowned king, hold back your hand from this man of God.' 'People rely on him and turn to him; it is not wise to kill a whole crowd's hope at once.' 'Practice greatness, forgiveness, and generosity; think of his small children.' But I heard he would not listen and shed his blood. Who can escape the sentence of the Judge above? That night the ruler slept lost in that thought; in a dream he saw the man, questioned him, and said: 'For only a moment I inflicted my punishment on you, yet your torment will stay with me until the Day of Judgment.' The wronged one does not sleep; fear his sighs, fear the smoke that rises from his heart at dawn. Are you not afraid that some night an innocent soul will send up a cry of 'O Lord' from a burning heart? Did not Satan do evil and never see any good? No good ever comes from a rotten seed.

Don't expose anyone's shame in a quarrel, for you too have hidden faults behind your own curtain. Don't roar at fierce, lion-hearted men when you can't even best a child with your fist. A father was giving his son some advice: hold onto the counsel of a wise man. Don't be cruel to those smaller than you, my son, for one day greatness may pass into your own hands. Aren't you afraid, little witless wolf, that a leopard may one day tear you apart? In my youth I had strength in my fist, and I made those beneath me suffer at my hand. Then one day I took a blow from stronger men, and after that I never bullied the weak again. Take care not to sleep in careless ease, for slumber is forbidden to the leader of a people. Beware: carry the sorrows of those beneath you, and fear the upper hand that fate can seize. Advice that is free of any hidden motive is like bitter medicine that cures the disease.

They tell a story of a certain king whom illness had spun thin as thread on a spindle. His body was so wasted by weakness that he envied his own lowly servants. For a king, though famous on the field, is worth less than a pawn once weakness strikes. A courtier kissed the ground before the throne: May the king live forever. In this city there is a man of blessed breath; few match him in piety. He has never walked a crooked path; his heart is pure and his prayers are answered. No one brought their troubles to him without their wish being granted at once. Call him, so he may say a prayer for you, that mercy may descend from highest heaven. The king ordered the chief attendants to summon the old man of blessed step. They went and asked, and the poor man came: a noble soul in humble clothes. The king said, Pray for me, wise one, for I am pinned in this thread like a needle. The bent backed old man heard this and harshly raised a rough cry. God is kind to the one who is just: show mercy, and see God's mercy in return. How can my prayer do you any good while prisoners lie helpless in pit and chains? You who have shown the people no mercy, how can you expect ease from your fortune? First you must ask pardon for your wrongs, and only then ask a good man to pray. How can his prayer lift you up when the prayers of the oppressed chase after you? The Persian king heard these words and burned at once with anger and shame. He was hurt, then said within his heart: Why am I hurt? What the dervish said is true. He ordered that everyone held in chains be freed at once by his command. After two cycles of prayer, the worldly wise man raised his hands in need to the Judge. Saying, You who raised the sky above, you seized him in war; now let him go in peace. He still held his hands up in prayer when the king lifted his head and leapt to his feet. You would think he might fly with joy like a peacock, once he saw no thread binding his feet. He ordered his treasure of jewels scattered at the old man's feet, and gold poured over his head. But truth must not be hidden for the sake of falsehood, so the old man shook out his robe and said: Do not go back to picking up that thread again, lest the thread should come loose once more. Since you have fallen once, watch your step, for a man can slip and fall a second time. Hear this from Saadi, for it is true: not everyone who falls gets up again.

My son, this world is no eternal kingdom, and you should not hope for loyalty from it. Didn't the throne of Solomon, peace be upon him, scatter to the wind at dawn and dusk? In the end, didn't you see it all blow away? Lucky is the one who left carrying knowledge and justice. In this world, only that person won the prize of fortune who cared for the ease and comfort of the people. Those who gave freely are the ones whose lives counted, not those who only hoarded wealth and then left it behind.

I heard that in Egypt, upon a certain prince, death launched its armies and overran his days. The beauty faded from his radiant face; like the sun turning pale, little was left of his day. The wise men gave him up as lost, for in medicine they found no cure for death. Every throne and kingdom comes to ruin, except the kingdom of the everlasting Commander. As the day of his life drew near its night, they heard him murmuring under his breath: 'In Egypt there was no one as honored as I, yet if this is all that remains, it was nothing at all.' 'I gathered the world but never enjoyed its fruit; I left it behind, helpless, and walked away.' Praiseworthy is the judgment of one who gives and enjoys, rather than hoarding the world only for himself. Strive for what will stay with you forever, for whatever you leave behind brings only regret and dread. On his life-draining deathbed the master lifts one hand short, the other long. In that moment he seems to signal to you with his hand, for terror has locked his tongue from speaking: 'Stretch out one hand in generosity and kindness; hold the other back from cruelty and greed.' Now, while you still have a hand, pluck out the thorn; when else could you raise your hand out of the shroud? Many a moon, Pleiades, and sun will shine while you never lift your head from the pillow of the grave.