Ode to old age

All my teeth fell out, and I realized for the first time
That before I had living lamps.
They were bars of silver and pearls and corals,
They were stars at dawn and raindrops.
All my teeth fell out. Where does the misfortune come from?
Perhaps Keivan struck me fatal blows?
Oh no, it's not Keivan's fault. Who? I will answer you:
God did it, and such are the age-old laws.
This is how the world works, whose lot is spinning and whirling,
Time is mobile, like a spring, like streams of water.
What is now reputed to be a drug, tomorrow will become poison,
So what then? Patients will again consider this poison a medicine.
You see: time ages everything that seemed new to us,
But time is also making old deeds younger.
Yes, flower beds have turned into deserted deserts,
But the deserts also bloomed like thick flower beds.
Do you know, my love, whose curls are like musk
About how your captive was in other times?
Now you enchant him with lovely curls, -
Did you see his curls in those young years?
Gone are the days when, like silk, cheeks were elastic,
Gone, disappeared those days - and resin curls.
Gone are the days when he was, as a welcome guest, dear;
He, apparently, was too expensive - others came in return.
A crowd of beauties looked at him with amazement,
And he himself was attracted by their witchcraft.
Gone are the days when he was carefree, cheerful, happy,
He knew big joys, small sorrows.
He littered with money everywhere, a Turk woman with tender breasts
He gave gold dirhams in this city.
The beautiful slaves wished to enjoy with him,
They hurried, stealthily, secretly to him at night hours.
Then, that they were afraid to appear on a date during the day:
The masters frightened them, the city dungeons!

What was difficult for others was easy for me:
A charming face, and a slender figure, and expensive wines.
I turned my heart into a treasure of songs
My print, my brand - my poems are simple.
I turned my heart into a stadium of fun,
I did not know what sadness, empty languor was.
I transformed into soft silk with hot verses
Hearts hardened, cold and angry
My ear has always been directed to the great word-makers,
Beauties attracted my gaze, mischievous minxes.
I didn’t know about my wife, children, family.
I lived freely, I had never heard of such hardships.
Oh, if, Madge, would you see me among the hangmen,
Not now that I'm old and the days are bad.
Oh, if I had seen, you heard me ringing like a nightingale
On the days when my horse trampled the meadows,
Then I was a servant of kings and to many a close friend,
Now I have lost my friends, there are only strangers around.
Now my poems live in all the royal palaces,
In my poems, kings live, their deeds are battle.
Khorasan listened to the works of the poet,
They were copied by the whole world, strangers and relatives.
Wherever I go to the dwellings of the noble,
I found food everywhere and the purses were tight.
I did not serve other kings, I am only from the Samans *,
Has acquired greatness, and goodness, and worldly joys,
The ruler of Khorasan gave me forty thousand,
Emir Makan gave five thousand - not bad gifts.
From the king's servants I scored eight thousand on trifles,
Happy, I composed true, direct songs.
The Emir gave me only due with such generosity,
And the servants, following the king, opened the storerooms,
But times have changed and I myself have changed
Give the staff: the gray-haired should wander with the staff, with the bag.

Rudaki

P.S. Rudaki Abdullah Jafar is an outstanding poet of the 10th century. Born in the mountain village of Pyanj Rudaki, 60 km from Padjikent. Rudaki studied at the Samarkand madrasah, where he received an excellent education for that time (for example, he knew the Koran by heart, was fluent in Arabic). Rudaki was invited to the palace of the Samanids as a court poet, but at an advanced age due to court intrigues he was blinded and expelled from Bukhara. Returning to his homeland, he died in poverty.