情景，沙漠时光，正午10车夫哈桑带着骆驼走过沙漠荒原，心中充满了无声的恐惧。他背上带着一桶水，他那轻便的口袋里装着一点稀稀拉拉的东西;他手里拿着一把彩绘羽毛的扇子，以保护他被遮蔽的脸免受灼热的沙子的伤害。闷热的太阳已经升到了天空中间，附近没有一棵树，也没有一株草。野兽痛苦地在尘土飞扬的路上追赶，风呼啸着，景色沉闷!带着极度的悲伤，这个受了惊吓的人叹了三口气，捶了三下胸膛，这样开始说:“当我第一次从西拉兹的城墙出发时，这是悲伤的时刻，这是不幸的一天。“啊!我一点也没有想到那猛烈的风，我发现了干渴和刺骨的饥饿!想想吧，哈桑，当他的无情的愤怒失败了，口渴又能平息在哪里呢?不久，这张珍贵的纸片就要卸下来了，那时，你得到的，除了眼泪和饥饿，还有什么? 30 `Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share! Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, Or moss-crowned fountains mitigate the day, In vain ye hope the green delights to know, Which plains more blest or verdant vales bestow. Here rocks alone and tasteless sands are found, And faint and sickly winds for ever howl around. Sad was the hour and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way. 40 `Cursed be the gold and silver which persuade Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade. The Lily-Peace outshines the silver store, And life is dearer than the golden ore. Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown, To every distant mart and wealthy town: Full oft we tempt the land and oft the sea; And are we only yet repaid by thee? Ah! why was ruin so attractive made, Or why fond man so easily betrayed? 50 Why heed we not, whilst mad we haste along, The gentle voice of Peace or Pleasure's song? Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's side, The fountain's murmurs and the valley's pride, Why think we these less pleasing to behold Than dreary deserts, if they lead to gold? Sad was the hour and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way. `O cease, my fears! all frantic as I go, When thought creates unnumbered scenes of woe, 60 What if the lion in his rage I meet! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet: And fearful! oft, when Day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner Night, By hunger roused, he scours the groaning plain, Gaunt wolves and sullen tigers in his train: Before them death with shrieks directs their way, Fills the wild yell and leads them to their prey. Sad was the hour and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way! 70 `At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep, If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep; Or some swoll'n serpent twist his scales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, From lust of wealth and dread of death secure. They tempt no deserts and no griefs they find; Peace rules the day, where reason rules the mind. Sad was the hour and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way. 80 `O hapless youth! for she thy love hath won, The tender Zara, will be most undone! Big swelled my heart and owned the powerful maid, When fast she dropped her tears, as thus she said: ``Farewell the youth whom sighs could not detain, ``Whom Zara's breaking heart implored in vain; ``Yet as thou goest, may every blast arise, ``Weak and unfelt as these rejected sighs! ``Safe o'er the wild, no perils mayst thou see, ``No griefs endure, nor weep, false youth, like me.'' O let me safely to the fair return, Say with a kiss, she must not, shall not mourn. Go teach my heart to lose its painful fears, Recalled by Wisdom's voice and Zara's tears.' He said, and called on heaven to bless the day, When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.