A Recollection of Childhood

In the time of my childhood I went out with my father during the Id Festival, and in the tumult of the mob got lost. I cried in fear, when my father suddenly pulled my ear, and said: “Several times did I tell thee not to take thy hand from the skirt of my robe.”

A child knows not how to go alone; it is difficult to travel on any road unseen.

Thou, poor man, art as a child in thine endeavours; go, hold the skirt of the virtuous. Sit not with the base, but fasten thy hand to the saddle-straps of the pious.

Go, like Sadi, glean the corn of wisdom so that thou mayest store a harvest of divine knowledge.