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The Masnavi, Book One: Bk. 1 (Oxford World's Classics)

Page 20

by Jalal al-Din Rumi


  Tears are the breaths of those who’re penitent,

  Adam came down to earth so he could grieve,

  To weep for what he’d done and then take leave:

  He came from Eden and the seventh heaven

  1645

  To beg and plead that he might be forgiven,

  So if you’re really Adam’s progeny

  Then keep on striving in his company—

  Blend in your tears with fire to make a sweet:

  The orchard blooms through rain and solar heat.

  What do you know about how tears might taste?

  You just love bread like blind men—what a waste!

  Empty your belly that you’ve filled with bread

  Then fill it up with precious jewels instead!

  It’s devil’s milk you’ve fed your infant soul,

  1650

  Take it to angels—feed it from their bowl!

  When you are weary, gloomy, and depressed,

  You must be feeding from the devil’s breast;

  The food which can increase light and perfection

  Is paid for through a lawful occupation;

  And oil which puts the lamp out we should call

  ‘Water’, it can’t be really oil at all:

  Knowledge and wisdom lawful meals produce*

  And love and tenderness they can induce,

  While morsels filled with envy which can snare

  1655

  Are all unlawful—ignorance breeds there!

  Have you sown wheat then seen just barley rise,

  A horse give birth to donkeys—don’t tell lies!

  Pure food is like a seed, its fruit’s pure thought,

  And it’s a sea, while thought’s the jewel sought;

  With longing, lawful food will overwhelm

  Your heart, so it can reach the highest realm.

  The merchant relates to his parrot what he saw of the parrots in India

  The merchant on completing all his trade

  Returned home, not prepared to be delayed,

  He brought a present back for every slave

  1660

  And to the slave-girls souvenirs he gave.

  The parrot asked, ‘Where’s what I chose instead?

  Please tell me what you saw and what was said.’

  He said, ‘No, for all that I now repent,

  With biting fingernails my hours are spent—

  Why did I say it? It was premature!

  Through ignorance, or is my judgement poor?’

  ‘Master, what’s this repentance for?’ she said,

  What’s brought this rage and grief inside your head?’

  He said, ‘I passed on your complaint once there

  1665

  To birds like you, who flew without a care—

  One of them felt your pain so much she cried,

  Her frail heart broke, she shuddered, fell, and died!

  Why did I say this for my little pet!

  Ah, now it’s done what use is my regret!’

  Regard the words you utter with your tongue

  A dangerous arrow which you have just flung;

  An arrow can’t be brought back from its course—

  We have to block the torrent at its source;

  Floods can submerge the world each time they rise,

  1670

  If they destroy the world that’s no surprise,

  Actions bring forth effects beyond our goal,

  Unseen effects beyond our own control,

  The Lord created them, let this be clear,

  Though they’re attributed to us down here:

  Jim once was shot at by a man named Jack;

  The arrows flew like leopards in attack;

  A year passed, but Jim’s suffering wouldn’t end.

  The Lord creates all pain, not Man, my friend:

  Even if Jack, on shooting, fell, and died,

  1675

  This wouldn’t have made Jim’s deep pain subside,

  But since this pain led to the death of Jim

  For triggering it, we say Jack murdered him—

  Pin all the blame on Jack that Jim was slain

  Even though God created all the pain!*

  Breath, sex, and sowing are comparable,

  They’re all effects which God makes possible:

  The saints have gained from God such awesome might

  That they can pull back arrows in mid-flight:

  Effects which stem from the original cause

  1680

  When saints repent are then compelled to pause:

  By grace he makes unsaid what has been said

  So no harm comes to anybody’s head,

  From all the hearts which heard that harmful word

  He wipes it out, unseen now and unheard!

  Dear gentlemen, if you need proof it’s true

  A verse we cause you to forget* should do,

  They caused you to forget, don’t be upset,

  Observe their power to make you forget:

  Then they made you forget, now they remind,

  1685

  And thus they rule the hearts of all mankind.

  When you are blinded with forgetfulness

  You’re impotent, your skills could not count less,

  Though you thought them a joke, they have God’s might,

  As far as they made you forget recite! *

  Landlords may rule your bodies, not your soul,

  That’s in the owner of the heart’s control,

  Deeds are derived from sight, please realize

  That men are just the pupils in their eyes—

  Its explanation I am forced to hide

  1690

  By barriers put up by those inside.

  Since all forgetfulness and memory

  Depend on Him, He’ll answer every plea:

  Thousands of good and evil things each night

  He empties from men’s hearts and out of sight,

  By day He pours them in their hearts once more—

  Refilling shells with pearls they used to store—

  Knowledge of things we used to utilize

  God’s guidance helps our souls to recognize—

  Your skills and talents all return to you

  1695

  To let you keep on doing what you do:

  The jeweller’s skills don’t reach mere ironmongers,

  A good man’s virtue won’t reach vile warmongers,

  Your skills and virtues like your property

  Will be returned on Judgment Day, you’ll see,

  Just as they do when from your sleep you wake—

  Back to the rightful owner, no mistake,

  Returning from that place that can’t be seen,

  Where good and evil thoughts had also been,

  Like carrier pigeons which have been abroad

  1700

  They bring back to their home a wondrous horde.

  The parrot hears about the actions of those other parrots and then dies in her cage, so the owner laments for her

  About the other birds when she was told

  His parrot trembled, fell, was knocked out cold,

  On seeing her fall like the one before

  The merchant leapt, his cap fell on the floor;

  When he saw her look like she’d nearly died

  He tore his jacket open, and then cried,

  ‘O darling parrot, sweeter than a kiss,

  What’s happened to you, why are you like this?

  My sweet-voiced bird, please say it’s not the end!

  1705

  Alas, my confidante and closest friend!

  My parrot had a singing voice so fine

  And smelt like basil, she was my soul’s wine!

  If Solomon had had a bird so rare

  He’d have forgotten all the rest, I swear!

  Alas, this bird for whom I didn’t pay,

  Which led me then to easily turn away.

  O tongue, y
ou hurt so many everywhere,

  Since you keep talking what can I declare!

  O tongue, you’re like both fire and stacks of hay;

  1710

  How long will you set them alight this way?

  The soul mourns secretly because of you

  Although it does the things you tell it to,

  But you are treasure too which will endure

  As well as pain for which there is no cure;

  Just like the hunter’s whistle you deceive,

  But then console the trapped birds when they grieve—

  How long will you keep offering sanctuary,

  You who, in hatred, draw your bow at me!

  You’ve made my bird fly off due to distrust,

  1715

  Stop acting like you’re born to be unjust!

  Please answer me or let me have redress

  Or give me reasons to feel happiness!

  Alas, that light which burnt the dark away,

  Alas the dawn that brightened every day:

  Alas that bird which flew so beautifully,

  From one end to the other deep in me!

  Until the end, heart, sing my love-sick grief:

  “I swear” until “in hardship”, for relief!*

  I fled from pain through love of your kind face,

  1720

  Then, in your stream, of scum I felt no trace!

  I cry, imagining you in the distance

  While cut off from my blissful past existence;

  God’s jealousy’s* the cause—what can one do!

  Which heart by His love wasn’t torn in two!

  Since He’s alone, beyond all other things,

  Our explanations and our mutterings,

  Would that my tears were waves of a vast sea

  That spray on my beloved constantly.

  My parrot was a most perceptive bird,

  1725

  Translator of my thoughts that were unheard:

  My lot and what would be held back as well

  Right from the very start she could foretell.’

  That bird’s voice came from revelation’s source,

  Her birth before existence took its course,

  Inside one this true parrot is concealed,

  Through her reflection everything’s revealed,

  She takes away your joy, but you don’t care,

  You even swear her tyranny is fair!

  Lighting your spirit for your body’s sake—

  1730

  You’ve burnt your spirit, now the rest must bake:

  I am on fire, get tinder here for free,

  So you can set your scraps alight through me!

  For setting things on fire since tinder’s fit

  Come, take this tinder which is easily lit!

  It’s such a shame that ravishing full moon

  Was clouded over by the fog so soon!

  How can I speak now that my heart’s ablaze:

  My exile’s lion’s hungry, in a daze—

  When sober violent, and when drunk he’s mad,

  1735

  Picture him after all the wine he’s had;

  The drunken lion is beyond all words,

  Too big for pastures which can hold vast herds!

  I think of rhymes, but the Beloved says:

  ‘Just for my face reserve your constant gaze!

  Sit comfortably my rhyme-enthusiast,

  To me you rhyme with fortune that will last.

  Words aren’t for lovers to reflect upon:

  What then are words? Around vines, they’re a thorn,

  Word, sound, and speech I strike relentlessly

  1740

  So I can talk to you without these three.

  The word I kept from Adam all these years,

  My secret, I’ll now whisper in your ears,

  What I would not tell Abraham I’ll tell

  And things that Gabriel doesn’t know as well.’

  The words that the Messiah couldn’t say,

  Even without maa, here God won’t convey—

  What’s maa?* It can affirm, and it negates,

  I’m not affirmed, for love annihilates!

  I’ve found a person in a nobody,

  1745

  An individual and non-entity,

  For every king’s subservient to his slave—

  Men die for those who for them choose their grave:

  Before prostraters kings fall down prostrate,

  And sober people drunks intoxicate,

  The hunter changes to the birds’ own prey

  To make them his own victim in this way,

  The lovesick seek their sweethearts with their soul,

  Their sweethearts are their prey, this is their role.

  Regard each lover as beloved too

  1750

 

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