The Masnavi, Book One: Bk. 1 (Oxford World's Classics)
Page 18
So why do I now shake and feel alarmed?
It’s awe of God, not just a human being,
A man dressed in a gown that I’m now seeing.’
Whoever’s path is fear of God will find
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That he is feared by jinn and all mankind.
With folded hands in a submissive pose
He stood until Omar woke and arose,
He then saluted him and bowed his head:
‘First say salaam, then talk!’ the Prophet said.*
Omar responded, told him to come near
And to sit next to him and have no fear:
‘Don’t fear!’* for scared men is quite suitable,
But not for those who aren’t afraid at all:
The scared are reassured they won’t be harmed—
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By this advice, their fearful hearts are calmed;
Why say ‘Don’t fear!’ to one who isn’t scared?
This is a lesson brave men should be spared!
Omar thus helped a troubled heart to find
Abundant happiness and peace of mind,
With subtleties that few can comprehend
About God’s attributes, our greatest friend!
He spoke of God’s love for his true élite
And of the states and stations one could meet:
The state is the unveiling of the bride,
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The station’s being alone with her inside,*
For her unveiling’s seen by every guest
But with the groom alone the bride will rest—
The bride unveils for every onlooker
But afterwards he lies alone with her!
So many Sufis have enjoyed a state
But few know of the stations that await.
Omar taught him the journey of the soul,
Spiritual travelling to the furthest goal,
And of the time which stands beyond all time,
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That lofty station, sacred and sublime,
And of the realm in which the spirit flew—
Before this life both flight and grace it knew,
Seeing beyond horizons coast to coast,
The utmost faith and zeal it then could boast.
Thus, when Omar saw that he was a friend,
He knew this man desired to comprehend:
The shaikh was perfect and the student keen,
The rider fast, the thoroughbred so lean.
The guide saw he would suit the brotherhood,
Then sowed good seed in soil he knew was good.
The emissary from Byzantium questions the Commander of the Faithful
‘Commander of the Faithful,* please expound
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For me how spirit came down to the ground:
How did that bird become caged in a cell?’
He said, ‘God chanted to the soul a spell;
The non-existents have no ear nor eye,
But when God chants a spell they stir and fly,
His spells give non-existents such a jolt
That to existence they all somersault!
And when existents hear God’s formula
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To non-existence their route’s similar.’
The rose smiled once He’d chanted to its stem,
His spell has made a stone turn to a gem,
Bodies transformed to souls by just one line,
His words have also caused the sun to shine,
But dark words whispered sometimes to its ear
Have made eclipses of the sun appear;
He also made the clouds perform the task
Of weeping tears just like a water-flask—
What spells He must have whispered to the ground
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To make it think, but not make any sound!
Whoever is perplexed by doubt and fear—
The Lord will chant a riddle in his ear
To hold him captive with this thought a bit,
‘Shall I obey or do the opposite?’
God’s preference is implicit for one side;
This factor helps the doubter to decide.
You don’t want to be plagued by doubts and fears?
Then put less cotton wool inside your ears
To hear those riddles that the Lord will tell,
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The secret hints he gives, the clear as well—
Your spirit’s ear will hear His revelation.
What’s that? It’s speech that’s far beyond sensation!
Spiritual ears and eyes transcend mere sense,
While rational ones can only claim pretence.
The word ‘compulsion’* spurs my heart ahead
While those who lack love feel ensnared instead,
It’s not compulsion but divine communion,
Not clouds, but the full moon in total union;
If it’s compulsion it’s a special kind,
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Not that commanding self’s* type which is blind:
Compulsion like this few identify,
God’s given these men’s hearts an inner eye—
Hidden things and the future they can see,
Mentioning the past near them is blasphemy!
For them compulsion’s different as well:
Drops turn to pearls inside an oyster shell,
However big each drop looks to your eyes
It forms a pearl exactly the same size;
This group are like the gland of the musk deer:
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Inside there’s musk though this may not be clear:
‘There’s only blood around this gland,’ men claim,
‘How can it turn to musk scent all the same?’
They say, ‘This copper’s hideous; I don’t see,
How it can turn to gold through alchemy.’
You found compulsion and free will in form,
For them, to God’s own light it can transform:
Bread on the table is inanimate
But forms a living part inside your gut,
Unchanging on the table where you dine,
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The soul transmutes it with some heavenly wine—
The soul has strength to carry out this role;
What then the power of God, who rules the soul!
Man would be merely flesh but for his heart,
Both seas and mountains he can split apart:
The heart splits rocks, lifts mountains through the sky,
God’s verse He split the moon* proves I don’t lie—
Just lift the cover of this mystery,
Your soul will seek God’s Throne then eagerly.
How Adam attributed that error to himself, saying ‘O Lord, we have wronged ourselves!’* And how Satan attributed his own sin to God Almighty, saying ‘Since you have sent me astray!’ *
Let us compare our acts with God’s now here,
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Consider our acts real—this much is clear:
If acts aren’t by creation, there’s no need
To ask, ‘Why did you do that awful deed?’
God gives acts being for they’re His creation.
Each act of ours is God’s manifestation.*
In words men see the meaning or its form,
They can’t see both at once, this is the norm:
Choosing its meaning, form he throws away,
No one can look both ways at once, can they?
When you are looking straight in front of you
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How can you see what’s there behind you too?
Meaning and form aren’t both in its control
So how can their creator be your soul?
The Lord encompasses all things, my son,
For Him one act won’t stop another one.
‘You led astray’, though Satan claimed, he lied:
His own deeds that vile devil tried to hide.
‘We’ve wronged o
urselves’: when Adam thus confessed
He still knew acts are God’s—he spoke the best:
Out of respect he said it was his sin,
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Through bearing this, more favour he would win;
He then repented. God said, ‘Didn’t I
Create that crime in you—Why did you lie?
Wasn’t it all because of my decree?
Why did you take responsibility?’
He said, ‘Through fear I kept respect for you.’
God said, ‘I’ve kept in mind your actions too.’
Whoever shows respect, respect will meet:
Bring halva and you’ll eat an almond sweet.
For whose sake are good women? For good men!*
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Spread joy! Hurt friends and see what they do then!
Produce a fitting parable, O heart,
Compulsion from free will to tell apart:
The hands of sick men which shake constantly
And those hands which you shake deliberately,
Both movements God creates, in that they share,
But these two pairs of hands you can’t compare:
You may regret you forced their hands to shake,
But sick men can’t be blamed, for heaven’s sake!
The intellect explores these words I speak
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For it’s a fox which tries to lead the weak;
Though pearls may be on offer as the goal
Its quest’s unlike the journey of the soul:
Spiritual quests are on a different sphere,
Like mystic wine and wine fermented here;
When intellectual quests were the top aim
Omar and Bu l-Hakam were just the same,
Omar then chose his soul before his head
And Bu l-Hakam became Bu Jahl instead,
In intellect as perfect as can be,
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But the most ignorant man inwardly!
A secondary cause is the brain’s quest,
The mystic’s quest lies far above the rest!
The soul’s light shone, O seeker of God’s light,
Then logic’s quarrels disappeared like night,
Because the seer on whom God’s light rays shine
Supporting proofs can’t hinder nor confine.
Commentary on ‘He is with you wherever you may be’*
We’ve come back to the tale we had in mind,
How could we ever leave that tale behind?
If we meet ignorance, to gaol we’re bound,
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If knowledge then His palace we have found;
When we’re asleep we’re drunk, then for His sake
We’re back in His hands also when awake,
When weeping we’re an ostentatious cloud,
Then lightning when we start to laugh aloud,
We show His anger when we fight with men,
His love when we forgive, at peace again—
Who are we, coiled and twisted like a string?
What’s straight apart from 1? Name me one thing!
The emissary asks Omar about the reason for the suffering of spirits in bodies of water and clay
He asked, ‘Omar, what aim’s behind this plot
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To lock pure beings in a filthy spot?
Pure water’s hidden when it’s sprayed on ground,
Pure souls in bodies likewise have been bound.’
He said, ‘Your question seems to be quite apt—
Pure meaning in a word you’ve tightly wrapped:
You’ve shackled what was once free like a bird
As you have trapped the wind inside a word—
Have you done this to make a personal gain
Though you can’t see what spirits thus attain?
The one from whom all benefits arise
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Can surely see what you’ve seen with your eyes!’
A million benefits are here, and all
Compared with that one are extremely small,
Your speech’s breath is part of what is whole,
So don’t deny pure being its true role!
Though but a part, your acts help all the same—
Don’t raise your hands and give the whole the blame!
If talking has no value, speak no more
Or else give thanks, don’t be so mean and sore;
To thank’s to place a halter round your neck,
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Not quarrelling about a tiny speck,
If it meant to look sour only, then
Mere vinegar would thank God more than men!
If vinegar must penetrate the liver
Tell it, ‘Turn to a healing brew with sugar!’—
Meaning in verse is nothing but insane,
It’s like a sling which no one can restrain!