Story of a Pious Man and a Gold Brick

A gold brick fell into the hands of a pious man and so turned his head that his enlightened mind became gloomy. He passed the whole night in anxious thought, reflecting: “This treasure will suffice me till the end of my life; no longer shall I have to bend my back before any one in begging. A house will I build, the foundation of which shall be of marble; the rafters of the ceiling shall be of aloe-wood. A special room will I have for my friends, and its door shall lead into a garden-house. Servants shall cook my food, and in ease will I nourish my soul. This coarse woollen bed-cloth has killed me by its roughness; now will I go and spread a carpet.”

His imaginings made him crazy; the crab had pierced its claws into his brain. He forsook his prayers and devotions, and neither ate nor slept.

Unable to rest tranquil in one place, he wandered to a plain, with his head confused with the charms of his vain fancies. An old man was kneading mud upon a grave for the purpose of making bricks. Absorbed in thought for a while, the old man said:

“O foolish soul! hearken to my counsel. Why hast thou attached thy mind to that goldbrick when one day they will make bricks from thy dust? The mouth of a covetous man is too widely open that it can be closed again by one morsel. Take, O base man, thy hand from off that brick, for the river of thy avarice cannot be dammed up with a brick.

“So negligent hast thou been in the thought of gain and riches that the stock of thy life has become trodden underfoot. The dust of lust has blinded the eyes of thy reason—the simoon of desire has burned the harvest of thy life.”

Wipe the antimony of neglect from off thine eyes, for to-morrow wilt thou be reduced to antimony under the dust.