This Too Shall Pass
این نیز بگذرد
īn nīz bogzarad
A Persian ring inscription that comforts the grieving and unsettles the joyful — and how Mandarin, Hausa, and Latin cousins each pick sides.
Read by the tongue
این نیز بگذرد
īn nīz bogzarad
A Persian ring inscription that comforts the grieving and unsettles the joyful — and how Mandarin, Hausa, and Latin cousins each pick sides.
غریق به هر گیاهی چنگ میزند
gharīq be har giyāhī chang mīzanad
A Persian proverb about desperation's blind grasp — and how English straw and Chinese doctors circle the same truth from very different distances.
عطر گل پنهان نمیشود
atr-e gol penhān nemishavad
A Persian proverb says the fragrance of a rose cannot be hidden. Quality reveals itself despite walls and distance — and Chinese wine, a Russian awl, and English cream all prove the same thing through three very different mechanisms.
باغ بیباغبان نمیماند
bāgh-e bī-bāghbān nemīmānad
A Persian proverb about the garden that cannot keep itself — and how three other languages, from Mencius to Ovid to a modern English shrug, circle the same observation about cultivation and decay.
زخم زبان از زخم شمشیر بدتر است.
zakhm-e zabān az zakhm-e shamshīr badtar ast
Why Persians say the wound of the tongue is worse than the wound of the sword — and how Arabic spears, Turkish blades, and Italian edges name the same injury from different rooms.
قطره قطره جمع گردد، وانگهی دریا شود
qatreh qatreh jamʿ gardad, vāngahi daryā shavad
Saadi's drops gather into a sea. Ovid's drops hollow a stone. Swahili grain fills a small wooden cup. Japanese dust becomes a mountain. Five languages chose five different small things — and the smallness, in each case, is exactly the point.