The Masnavi, Book One: Bk. 1 (Oxford World's Classics)
Page 25
To ask the Prophet, ‘What do I have here?
If you’re a prophet, tell me what I’ve brought,
Since heaven’s secrets you must have been taught.’
‘Would you prefer it if I answer you
Or if the stones speak up to tell what’s true?’
He said, ‘The latter’s more incredible.’
‘Of course, though of much more God’s capable.’
Within his fist each stone began to say
That it had Muslim faith: without delay
Each said, ‘There is no God except Allah,’
2170
And joined, ‘Mohammad is His Messenger.’
On hearing this, he threw them on the floor,
Much angrier than he had been before.
The remainder of the story about the musician: the Commander of the Faithful Omar conveys to him the message that the unseen voice had uttered
Let’s go back to that old musician’s tale:
With waiting he became so weak and pale,
Omar was then told: ‘Free him from his need,
He’s been our servant in both word and deed,
He’s a much-valued slave for whom we care—
You’ll find him in the graveyard deep in prayer;
Arise, and from the public treasury
2175
Take seven hundred dinars rightfully,
Tell him: “God’s chosen you among us all,
Take this amount, forgive me that it’s small;
It’s for those silk harp strings we know you lack—
Once it is spent, if you want more, come back.—’
That awesome voice thus shook Omar awake
To then exert himself just for God’s sake—
Towards the graveyard quickly now he ran,
Clutching his purse and searching for that man.
He ran around it for a while, but found
2180
Apart from some old codger none around;
‘This can’t be him,’ he thought, and searched again.
He tired and still had not seen other men;
He thought, ‘God said: “A slave, immaculate,
A pure man, worthy, blest and fortunate”—
Can some old harpist be this venerable?
Mysterious secret, you’re incredible!’
He went around the graveyard once again
Just like a lion prowling round his den,
When he knew there was no one else in sight,
2185
He thought, ‘In darkness hearts can still burn bright!’
He sat down next to him with utmost care,
But then he sneezed—the man jumped in the air!
He saw Omar—confused, he scratched his head;
He felt like leaving, but just shook instead.
‘God help me please!’ the old man prayed inside,
‘It’s the police for me, and I can’t hide!’
Omar glanced at his face and it was clear
The old man was ashamed and pale with fear.
He told him, ‘Don’t be scared, don’t run away,
2190
I’ve brought good news from God for you today:
God praised your nature, so that I, Omar,
Came to admire and love you from afar—
So sit back down beside me, and stay near
So I can whisper secrets in your ear:
God sends his greetings, and He asks you this:
“How are you with your pain that’s limitless?”
Here’s cash—first buy your silk harp strings, and then
Once you have spent it all come back again.’
The old man shook on hearing what was planned,
2195
His heart throbbed wildly and he bit his hand,
He screamed, ‘My Peerless Lord who’s free from blame,
Please stop! You make this old man burn with shame!’
Due to abundant pain he wept in fits,
Then slammed his harp down, smashing it to bits:
‘You veiled me from my Lord, you stupid thing,
And chased me off the highway to the King!
You sucked my blood to make me a disgrace
For my whole life before God’s perfect grace!
Have mercy, God, supreme in loyalty,
2200
Upon a life spent in iniquity:
The value of each day God’s given you
Exceeds all things, but no man has a clue—
Throughout my life I was a waste of space,
I spent my days with treble notes and bass!
Immersed forever in my fickle art
I thus forgot the pain of being apart,
The freshness in my minor keys instead
Has shrivelled up my heart and left it dead!
Due to my hours spent on each melody
2205
The caravan moved on too soon for me.
Against my self, please God, come to my aid:
Of no one else complaints have I now made;
I can’t receive such help from any source
But God, who’s closer than my self, of course—
My being comes each breath from Him to me—
Once this declines, I’ll see His Unity,
Like when near someone counting out your gold—
Your whole attention soon this man will hold.’
Omar turns the old man’s gaze from the station of weeping, which requires self-existence, to the station of absorption
Omar then told him, ‘Your acute distress
2210
Points also to your own self-consciousness,
Annihilation has a difference—
Self-consciousness is there a gross offence:
It’s thinking of the past to no avail,
From God the past and future both will veil—
Set fire to these two now, and please take heed,
Don’t stay blocked up with knots like a bad reed;
While it’s blocked up it can’t be intimate,
No lips count it as an associate.
While walking, all your thoughts are wandering,
2215
Back home about yourself you’re pondering:
You’ve knowledge, but you’re heedless of its source—
It’s worse than sin, your kind of blind remorse!
Why still repent about a state that’s passed?
Repent of your repentance now at last!
You thought then just of music in your ears,
Now you prefer to weep your salty tears!’
Omar, discerning mirror of God’s light,
Woke up the old man’s soul from its dark night:
He stopped his weeping and his laughing too,
2220
His old soul died, but he was born anew;
Then he was filled with such bewilderment
He rose beyond the earth and firmament:
A search beyond all searches thus began,
Not that I understand—perhaps you can?
Such states and words beyond what’s known to us,
Drowned in the beauty of the Glorious,
A drowning, neither meaning his deliverance,
Nor that the Sea and he still show a difference:
Your intellect can’t know the Whole unless
2225
You keep on pleading and show neediness—
When such demands are made repeatedly
At last a wave will come from that Pure Sea.
Now that we’ve reached the ending of this tale,
The old man and his states have drawn the veil;
He’s shaken words off just like crumbs of bread
Though half of this long tale is left unsaid.
For such delights, to gamble is the cost,
A hundred thousand souls may thus be lost—
Be like a hunting falcon in your soul,
2230
Risk your life like the
sun—let the dice roll!
The sun which radiates life to all men
Each moment empties, then fills up again,
Sun of Reality, diffuse life too!
Make this old world shine bright as though it’s new!
Spirit and life arrive here from beyond,
Like water pouring non-stop in a pond.
Commentary on the prayer of those two angels who call out at every market each day: ‘God, give every spender change to spare and bring every miser harm!’ with the explanation that the ‘spender’ refers to the aspirant on the path to God, not the one who squanders it for the sake of desire
The Prophet said, ‘Two angels always shout
With voices that sound sweet when they cry out:
“Please God, keep all the spenders satisfied,
2235
Let them go home with their wealth multiplied,
But don’t give misers anything, please Lord,
But loss of income, so they’ll lose their horde!”’
Yet stinginess excels a generous hand—
Don’t give what’s God’s except at His command!
Then, in return, you’ll gain a boundless treasure
And not an unbeliever’s paltry measure—
Seek God’s command from those in union’s sea,
Not every heart has this capacity.
In the Koran those who chose to forget
2240
Found all their spending only buys regret:
The Meccans who reviled the Prophet* tried
A sacrifice to draw God to their side,
Such camel sacrifices thus they made
To sharpen on his neck a murderous blade,
But they were like that overgenerous slave:
The king’s wealth to his enemies he gave!
So to the king this kind of generous act
Warranted exile—this slave was attacked!
That’s why believers fearfully recite:
2245
‘Show us the straight path!*’ in their prayers each night.
The generous give coins to all those who ask,
But offering up one’s soul’s the lover’s task!
Give bread for God’s sake, more will come to you,
Give up your soul, receive a soul that’s new:
When leaves fall off the tree, then God will give
The leafless tree what it should need to live;
Your being generous won’t leave you without,
God’s grace won’t leave you ruined—never doubt!
Your barn is emptied when you sow what’s there
2250
But soon your field sprouts goodness everywhere;
What you save in your barn as capital
Gets eaten up by mice, it’s temporal.
This world is naught, look for the lasting whole,
Your body’s void, try searching in your soul!
So bring your bitter soul now to the sword,
A soul just like the sea is the reward,
If you don’t know how to find this location
Just listen to the following narration:
The story of the caliph who surpassed Hatem Tai* in generosity for his own time, and was peerless then
There was a caliph once in history
2255
Who seemed superior to Hatem Ta’i,
The flag of generosity he’d raise,
Eradicating need through his kind ways,
His generous deeds produced pearls in the sea
And stretched around the world repeatedly,
He was like clouds or rainfall for dry land,
Thus representing God’s own giving hand;
His gifts made deepest mines and oceans quake,
The route to him all caravans would take.
The needy turned towards his door in prayer,
2260
News of his generous ways spread everywhere:
Persians, Greeks, Arabs, Turks, with eyebrows raised,
By his munificence were left amazed—
Water of Life*, and sea of kindness too,
Through him all humans were soon born anew.
Story about the poor bedouin and his wife’s altercation with him because of their want and poverty
A bedouin lived with his weary bride;
Since they were hard up, every day she cried:
‘We always have to suffer and be poor,
The rest rejoice, while you and I endure:
We have no bread, just jealousy and pain,
2265
We have no water—tears replaced the rain;
Just sunlight clothes us in the afternoon,
At night our sheets are beams shone by the moon—
Imagining the moon’s a wholesome pie
We lift our hands to grab it from the sky!
Paupers, ashamed at our sad poverty,
Just watch us starve, filled with anxiety;