XVII: Completely false and lying are they all, from…

Completely false and lying are they all, from first to last,
Who are gathered around the table of the transient world!

The universe is like unto the shop of the sweetmeat-seller:
Account its resorters nothing else but the flies that they are!

The degree of affection, that the flies in that quarter bestow,
Is according to the quality of the sweets therein contained.

Place no reliance soever upon the mere display of their sincerity:
Falsely, they deception practise: they are their own weal's friends!

In the day of prosperity, of constancy, they ever make boast;
But when a slight disaster occurreth, they all take to flight.

The heart's eyes, for its own objects, show sycophancy to the tongue;
Then do not pride thyself on their oaths; for all are knaves.

Should they become aware of a good friend's affliction,
Their tongues cry, "Dear! dear!" but they exult in their hearts.

Hope not, in this world, to find a friend, sincere and true;
For the sons of the present day are hypocrites and rogues.

There is neither love, nor affection, nor friendship in them:
By some craft they acquire; for they are all the loaf's slaves.

The world's interests and profits are their object, and these they pursue:
They are neither stedfast on faith's path, nor infidels are they.

Like as they plot against the very heart's blood of one another,
In hatching each other's ruin are wolves ever thus occupied?

As yet, the day of doom hath not been viewed by human eye;
But its operations I, to-day, perceive; since all are for themselves.

Never yet have I found, in any one, either fidelity or truth;
Whether it be in brethren or kinsmen, in relations or friends!

Since I, THE SEPARATED, became acquainted with its secrets,
I find the world hath countless women, and but few, few men!