Bodleian quatrain nr. 49
Cadell 1899 - 77
The sage who on the path of peace doth go
Is told a hundred times a day, by God:
"Seek thou the hour of fellowship for lo!
"The grass you tread, is ne'er by you retrod."
Christensen 1927 - 10
This reason that walks the path of happiness, a
hundred times a day it says to thee:
"Find out this one moment of thy lifetime, for thou art
not like those pot-herbs which are picked and grow again."
Grolleau 1902 - 49
Cette intelligence qui rôde dans les chemins du Ciel
Te dit cent fois par jour:
"A cette minute même, comprends donc que tu n'es point
Comme ces herbes qui reverdissent après avoir été cueillies."
Heron-Allen 1898 - 49
This intellect that haunts the path of happiness
keeps saying to thee a hundred times a day: —
"Understand in this single moment of thine existence, that thou art not
like those herbs which when they gather them spring up again."
De Marthold 1910 - 49
La voix planant au ciel, des profondeurs jaillie,
Te dit cent fois par jour, pauvre âme enorgueillie:
"A cet instant précis, comprends que tu n'es pas
"L'herbe qui reverdit après qu'on l'a cueillie."
Von der Porten 1927 - 49
Verstand tappt suchend nach des Glückes Tor
Und hält dir hundertmal am Tage vor:
Bedenke stets, du gleichst dem Kraute nicht,
Das abgepflückt von neuem blüht empor.
Roe 1906 - 78
A voice that haunts the path of pleasure calls,
And ev'ry hour the awful warning falls -
"Know now, forever, when you die, YOU DIE,
And Spring's soft voice no human soul recalls!"
Talbot 1908 - 49
The voice that haunts thy peace, within thy brain
A hundred times a day sings this refrain:-
"Thou livest but a moment, and art not
Like herbs which, gathered once, spring up again."
Thompson 1906 - 265
The sense which bids you Pleasure's path pursue,
Whispers a hundred times a day to you,
"This moment have in mind, for you 're no plant
Which when they mow it down, springs up anew!"
Tirtha 1941 - III.43
Wise man who plies to reach His high domain
Will often guide his mind, and thus explain:
"Rejoice for once with friends, for thou art not
That herb which after lopping grows again."
Whinfield 1883 - 217
Sense, seeking happiness, bids us pursue
All present joys, and present griefs eschew;
She says, we are not as the meadow grass,
Which, when they mow it down, springs up anew.
- FURUGHI 1942 - 65
- KASRA 1975 - 65
- MAHFUZ 1939 - 110
- WHINFIELD 1882 - 117