A king returned once to his capital.
His subjects had prepared a festival,
And each to show his homage to the crown
Had help to decorate the glittering town.
The prisoners has no wealth but iron gyves,
Chains, severed heads, racked limbs and ruined lives-
With such horrific ornaments they made
A sight to greet their monarch's cavalcade.
The king rode through the town and saw the way
His subjects solemnized the happy day,
But nothing stopped the progress of his train
Till he approached the prison and drew rein.
There he dismounted and had each man told
That he was free and would be paid in gold.
A courtier asked the king: "what does this mean?
To think of all the pageantry you've seen-
Brocade ans satin shinning everywhere,
Musk and sweet ambergris to scent the air,
Jewels scattered by the handful on the ground-
And not so much as once did you look round;
Yet here you stop-before the prison gate!
Are severed heads a way to celebrate?
What is there here to give you such delight?
Torn limbs and carcasses? A grisly sight!
And why did you dismount? Should you sit down
With all the thieves and murderers in town?"
The king replied: "The others make a noise
Like rowdy children playing with new toys;
Each takes part in some festivity,
Careful to please himself as much as me-
They do their duty and are quite content,
But here in prison more than duty's meant.
My words is a law here, and they've plainly shown
This spectacle was made for me alone.
I see obedience here; need I explain
Why it is here I'm happy to draw rein?
The others celebrate in pompous pride,
Conceited, giddy and self -satisfied,
But these poor captives sacrifice their will
And bow to my commands through good and ill-
They have no business but to spend each breath
In expectation of the noose and death,
Yet they submit- and to my grateful eyes
Their prison is a flower-strewn paradise."
Wisdom accepts authority and waits;
The king paused only at the prison gates.
ATTAR
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