The Masnavi, Book One: Bk. 1 (Oxford World's Classics)
Page 19
On the meaning of ‘Let whoever wants to sit with God sit with the Sufis’*
This made the messenger lose self-control,
Forgetting all about his mission’s goal:
The power of God left him completely dazed,
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He came, and to a higher state was raised;
On reaching it, a flood becomes the sea,
In soil a seed may grow to form a tree,
When bread is in our gut it comes alive,
And soaks up knowledge, which helps all things thrive,
When wax and timber both are set alight
Their essence, which was dark, becomes so bright,
If you apply some kohl around your eye
You’ll learn to see as well as any spy:
Happy the man who from himself is free
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And joins with Being in true unity,
Alas the one who mixes with the dead—
He’ll die himself because he’s been misled.
So many prophets the Koran extols—
Read it! Become familiar with their souls!
For it describes each one’s biography
As fish in the sea of divinity.
If you recite but don’t accept the Book
You’ve turned them down although you’ve had a look,
If you accept the stories on each page
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You’ll feel your soul’s a bird trapped in a cage;
The reason that the caged bird settles there
And doesn’t flee is that it’s unaware.
Spirits which have escaped from their constraints
Are fit to guide like prophets and like saints;
Their voices speak of faith when they should say:
‘This is your one escape route—come this way!’
Through faith we have escaped the narrow cell—
There is no other way out of this hell
Than to be seen as suffering what’s worse,
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In order to flee reputation’s curse,
For reputation’s such a heavy chain—
Much worse than iron chains in this domain.
The story about the merchant to whom his caged parrot gave a message for the parrots of India when he was due to go there for trade
A merchant kept his parrot so confined
Inside a cage you’d think he was unkind,
But when he planned to make a trip for trade
To India where the finest goods were made,
To all his servants he went down to say,
‘What shall I buy for you while I’m away?’
They listed things on which their hearts were set
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And he swore that he never would forget;
He asked the parrot, ‘What would you prefer
That I should bring for you from India?’
The bird said, ‘When you see the parrots there
Please tell them all about my sad affair:
Tell them a parrot pines continually
To see you, but she’s caged by fate’s decree;
She sends her greetings and she asks for justice,
She wants to learn the faith you parrots practise;
She says, “Should I stay longing here for you
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In exile, and then give my life up too?
Should I stay in this cage—can this be right,
While in the woods and meadows you take flight?
Where now is our famed solidarity?
While I’m in gaol the rest of you are free!
My noble friends, remember this poor bird
And drink to me tomorrow—spread the word!
If friends remember one, then one is blest,
Majnun’s love for his Layli though was best!
In fine surroundings you recline and think,
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While I just have my blood left now to drink!
So down a glass of wine for my sake, friends;
If you don’t want to try to make amends,
Remembering one who’s fallen in the dust
You’ll pour the dregs upon the ground, I trust.
What happened to the oath that we all swore—
Don’t promises you make count any more?
Have I deserved my fate for some offence,
If you hurt sinners what’s the difference?”’
The harm You cause in war and retribution
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Delights me more than musical audition,*
Good fortune can’t match torture that’s from You,
Your wrath is dearer than my own life too!
This is Your fire—how great must be Your light:
The funeral’s now, the party starts tonight!
Because of sweetness in Your wrathfulness
None know the full depth of Your tenderness,
I moan, but fear that He might answer me
By kindly softening his tyranny—
I’m smitten by his wrath and kindness too,
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My love for opposites amazes you!
If I escape these thorns now for a rose
A nightingale’s lament I will compose—
Strange nightingale whose mouth is open wide
To fit both thorns and roses now inside!
That’s no bird but a fiery dragon there:
Love’s made all seem to him so sweet and fair!
He loves the Whole, which is here and above—
He loves himself thus, and seeks his own love!
Description of the wings of the birds of divine intelligences
The parrot’s tale now seems appropriate,
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With bird-like souls find one who’s intimate,
One like a weak obedient bird outside
With Solomon and armies deep inside!
When he should wail without complaint or praise
An uproar sets the seven spheres ablaze;
Each breath for him God’s messages appear:
He cries, ‘O Lord!’ God says, ‘I’m always here!’*
For God, his sins excel mere blind obedience,
Next to his unbelief, pure faith is nonsense.
Each moment privately to God he’s led,
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A hundred crowns God places on his head,
His form’s from earth, his soul is from No-place,*
Beyond the dreams that travellers can chase,
Not somewhere which the mind can comprehend
From where a telling clue might once descend;
By him the world and No-place are controlled
Like those four rivers ruled by heaven’s fold;*
Cut short the explanation, turn around,
God knows what’s best, don’t make another sound!
Let’s now resume what started earlier
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About the bird, the merchant, India:
The merchant then said ‘Yes’ to her request
To give her message there at her behest.
The merchant sees the parrots of India in the countryside and delivers the message for that parrot
He entered India, travelled deep inside,
Then saw some parrots in the countryside:
He drew his steed back, shouted to the birds,
To keep his promise he passed on her words—
One of the birds shook violently then dropped,
She fell just like a corpse, her breathing stopped!
He then repented that he’d brought the news:
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‘I’ve killed this creature, what is left to lose!
Was she one of my parrot’s relatives,
The same soul which in separate bodies lives?
Why did I tell them when she’s out of reach?
I’ve burnt the poor thing’s heart with my crude speech!’
The tongue and stone on iron are the same:
What leaps out fro
m your tongue’s tip is a flame—
Don’t strike the stone on iron for you’ll roast
For telling stories or just for a boast!
We’re in a field of cotton in the dark
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So don’t you carelessly create a spark!
In darkness tyrants choose to shut their eyes
And with their words allow the flames to rise:
A world can be destroyed by what is said
And foxes turn to lions thus instead.
Spirits like Christ’s breath give new life to you,
First as a wound, then as a plaster too,
If spirits were unveiled, it would be known
Their speech is just like the Messiah’s own.
If you want something sweet to say, hold on!
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Don’t grab them greedily before they’re gone:
Through self-restraint the clever men reach higher,
Sweets are what simple children all desire—
You can ascend to God with self-control,
Choose sweets and you’ll sink farther from the goal.
Commentary on the saying of Attar: ‘You have an ego, heedless one, drink your own blood while on earth, for if mystics drink poison it will become an antidote’ *
The mystic is not harmed one bit if he
Should drink down deadly poison knowingly:
When you have true health why choose abstinence
Though others suffer if they touch it once:
The Prophet said, ‘Wise man, just turn aside,
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Don’t challenge one who’s sought out as a guide!’
With Nimrod in you, don’t approach the flame,
Become first Abraham to do the same—
You don’t know how to swim or sail in there,
Don’t dive in vainly just to show you dare!
He can pull out a red rose from the fire,
From loss he can send profits soaring higher,
His touch turns earth to gold in just a flash,
While gold imperfect men touch turns to ash:
God has accepted him, so understand
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In all he does his hand is like God’s hand,
The hands of others are the devil’s own,
In their abuse and lies it’s clearly shown;
Ignorance turns to knowledge with pure men,
It’s ignorance with infidels again,
A sick man spreads to others pain and grief,
A perfect man turns sin to true belief—
While standing don’t fight someone on a steed,
Step back, there is no way you can succeed!
The reverence of the magicians towards Moses, whom they asked, ‘What do you wish—would you like to cast your rod first?’ *
In Pharaoh’s reign magicians set a date
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To challenge Moses, object of their hate,
But these men still showed Moses deference,
These vain magicians showed much reverence
By saying, ‘You choose when, O Messenger,
And throw your rod down first if you prefer.’
Moses said, ‘No, magicians I implore
That you throw down your tricks first on the floor.’
They earned God’s grace by being subservient,
This cut their power and means of argument:
When they acknowledged who he was this time,
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They lost the power to carry out their crime.
Each morsel and each word is lawful too
For the perfected, not for men like you!
While you’re an ear, this man’s a tongue, you see,
And God told all men ‘Listen!’ * Didn’t he?
Each baby when it’s born screams out its fears
But then stays silent for a while, all ears;
For hours it has to keep its small lips sealed
Till speech’s secret should become revealed,
And if it doesn’t listen, but just cries
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It’s the most stupid thing beneath the skies!
The one born deaf who’s never heard a word
Is mute, how can speech move him—that’s absurd!
To learn to speak, first hearing’s necessary,
Through hearing learn how to speak properly:
‘Enter their houses by their doors!’* He said,
Seek through their cause the outcomes up ahead!
Speech not in need of hearing is unknown
Apart from God’s desire-free speech alone,
For the Creator follows no one’s lead,
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We’re helped by Him, of help He has no need.
In making things and speaking we’ve relied
On teachers or a pattern that can guide—
If these words haven’t left you in a shock
Start weeping now and wear a dervish frock!
Adam’s tears freed him from admonishment,