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

by Jalal al-Din Rumi

  Not due to hardness would their hearts not bleed

  But through distraction and not taking heed—

  They’ll only bleed that day when blood’s worth naught

  But you must bleed when blood is worth a lot.

  Slaves’ testimonies are void as a rule—

  Find witnesses who aren’t slaves of the ghoul;

  ‘We’ve sent you as a witness,’* God has said

  Since he was free, from being’s grip he’d fled.

  ‘Rage can’t enslave me,’ said Ali, ‘I’m free,

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  There’s naught here but God’s attributes—come see!

  Enter! God’s grace has liberated you!

  His mercy comes before His anger too!

  Come in! Now you’ve fled danger that you’ve known

  You’re like a jewel that was once a stone;

  You’ve fled the thorn of unbelief and doom

  So in the rose-bed of ‘He’* you will bloom!’

  ‘Illustrious one, I’m you and you are I,

  Ali, how could I cause Ali to die!

  Your sins surpass good deeds of the obedient

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  And you’ve traversed the heavens in an instant.’

  Sins of such men excel their piety,

  Rose leaves can grow from thorns for all to see:

  The Prophet once Omar approached to kill—

  This led him to Islam’s acceptance still,*

  And pharaoh ordered magic from his men

  But fortune helped them save themselves again;

  If magic and denial they’d not been taught,

  To stubborn pharaoh would they have been brought?

  Why did they witness Moses’s famed rod?

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  Their sin became obedience thus to God.

  God has chopped off the thick neck of despair

  For sin’s turned to obedience everywhere,

  Since he can change round evil acts this way

  To righteous deeds, despite what whisperers say,

  Cursed Satan now gets stoned in strong attacks

  And out of jealousy he finally cracks;

  To us a sinful act he’ll try to sell

  In order thus to lead us down to hell,

  But when he sees that sin’s now piety

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  All he has left is sheer anxiety!

  ‘Enter! The door is open for you now—

  You spat but I gave favours anyhow;

  I grant such gifts to those who torture me

  And bow my head down in humility,

  Imagine what I give men who are loyal—

  Treasures and kingdoms that are all eternal!’

  The Prophet said in the ear of the stirrup-holder of the Commander of the Faithful Ali: ‘Ali will be slain by your hand, I swear to you!’

  ‘The honey of my generosity

  Won’t turn to poison if you murder me;

  Into my servant’s ear the Prophet said

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  That he would one day chop off my sweet head,

  God’s Messenger thus made him understand

  That in the end I’d be slain by his hand.

  That servant now begs, “Kill me for my sake

  So I won’t make this dreadful, vile mistake!”

  I say, “Since you must bring about my end

  How can I try to dodge God’s will, my friend?”

  He falls before me, pleading, “Noble lord,

  Split me in two, for God’s sake, with your sword,

  So fate will not decree this as my role,

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  That my soul won’t burn pining for your soul.”

  I tell him, “Go! The ink’s already dry,

  That pen’s foiled giants who could touch the sky.

  There is no hatred in my soul for you

  Since this is not an act you choose to do;

  You are God’s instrument with which He’ll write—

  With God’s own instrument should I now fight?”’

  The warrior asked, ‘Then what’s revenge about?’

  Ali said, ‘It’s a mystery God’s set out:

  Should He now counter His own act, you’ll see

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  A garden grow from His change of decree;

  To change His own acts suits God for He’s one:

  He holds both grace and wrath in union,

  He’s the commander of phenomena,

  In every realm He is the emperor.

  If He breaks His own instrument, He’ll then

  Repair that broken instrument again:

  We made it be forgotten*—comprehend

  That better things replace them in the end!

  God abrogates laws for our benefit:

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  He takes grass but gives flowers in place of it,

  The day’s activity is stopped at night—

  Watch stillness now bestow true wisdom’s light,

  But then the night is cancelled by the day,

  The fire of which makes stillness burn away.

  Though sleep and rest in darkness may abound

  The Water of Life* too in there is found,

  And aren’t minds refreshed while resting here

  As pauses help a voice sound loud and clear:

  From opposites thus opposites alight—

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  Inside your heart’s dark core He’s shone this light.’

  The Prophet’s wars brought peace which all had sought,

  Our peace these days stems from the wars he fought;

  Though he slew thousands who showed enmity

  This was so men could gain security:

  The gardener trims the branches that cause harm

  To cultivate a straight and tall date-palm,

  And any weeds he finds he will uproot

  So that the garden thrives and bears much fruit;

  The dentist pulls out teeth that show decay

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  So that the patient’s pain will go away—

  Loss therefore can hide many gains inside

  As martyrs gain new life once they have died;

  Once cut, the throat that ate its daily bread

  Receives God’s bounty and feels joy* instead:

  When throats of animals are lawfully slit

  Men’s throats grow and from grace they benefit,

  But what if one should stab another man?

  Guess by analogy now if you can!

  A third throat grows, one nurtured day and night

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  With tonic from God and His rays of light—

  The throat that’s cut drinks tonic He lets flow,

  The throat that dies in ‘Yes!*’ has just fled ‘No!’

  Say, ‘That’s enough!’ You miserable, vile troll,

  How long will you choose bread to feed your soul?

  You bear no fruit just like the willow tree

  For you have given bread priority—

  If your base sensual soul can’t give up bread

  To turn to gold try alchemy instead!

  Since you would like your garments cleaned today

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  From all the washers why now turn away?

  Although you break your fast with bread, my friend,

  He mends what’s broken, He’ll help you ascend,

  Since He mends what is broken, be aware:

  If He breaks things, in truth it is repair,

  But if you break things He will say to you:

  ‘Now fix it!’ But you won’t know what to do!

  He has the right to smash things up, for He

  Knows how to mend what’s broken instantly:

  He who knows how to sew can tear as well,

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  He’ll buy a better thing than what He’ll sell;

  He’ll wreck a house so its roof hits the floor

  And then rebuild it better than before;

  Should He decapitate a man, His gracer />
  Would bring a thousand heads soon in its place—

  If He had not decreed a confrontation,

  Saying: ‘There’s life through your retaliation,’*

  Who would have had the gall to strike His sword

  At someone else and claim it’s from the Lord!

  For anyone with open eyes can tell

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  That killer is a fool of fate as well;

  If by the Lord’s decree a fool is led,

  He’ll even strike against his own child’s head—

  Don’t curse the evildoers, but beware

  You’re impotent too in God’s ruling snare.

  Adam is surprised at the accursed Satan falling astray and shows conceit

  Once Adam looked at Satan with disdain

  Filled with contempt and scorn, when he was vain;

  Self-conscious, he thought he was in the right

  And laughed at wretched Satan’s awful plight.

  The Lord’s possessiveness cried, ‘Who are you?

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  About the hidden truths you have no clue!’

  If He should turn your waistcoat inside out,

  He’d lift a mountain from its base no doubt,

  He would unveil a hundred Adams then

  And cause cursed Satans to be born again:

  Adam said, ‘I repent now for that glance,

  I won’t presume again with arrogance.

  Now that I’ve begged, please lead me to decide

  That wealth and knowledge don’t deserve our pride;

  Don’t let a heart you’ve blessed now go astray!*

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  Make evil fates decreed now fade away!

  Please spare our souls from meeting wretched ends,

  Don’t separate us from pure-hearted friends.

  There’s nothing worse than life apart from You,

  Filled with anxiety, and helpless too.’

  Our worldly goods steal what is spiritual,

  Our body likewise strips our precious soul:

  Our own hands broke our legs—if not for You

  To save their souls what can mere humans do!

  If he should save his soul from dangers here

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  He will have stopped calamity and fear,

  For if the soul’s deprived of unity

  It blindly mourns alone eternally—

  Since You won’t grant admission though he tries

  To save his soul, that exiled lover dies.

  Call heaven and God’s Throne contemptible,

  Say seas and mines are poor and miserable—

  Compared with Your perfection that’s correct

  For transitory things You can perfect.

  If You should curse Your slaves, You have the right,

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  For You that’s fine, successful source of light!

  The sun and moon You can call worthless things

  And say that cypress trees are bent like springs,

  From non-existence and from harm You’re free,

  To non-existence You grant strength to Be:

  Shedding is known by those who cause to grow,

  Since those who tear know also how to sew.

  Each autumn He makes gardens disappear

  Then causes glorious roses to grow here,

  Saying: ‘You’d withered; come back fresh and bright!

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  Bloom beautifully and fill men with delight!’

  Once the narcissus’ eye went blind, He then

  Healed it; a broken reed He fixed again.

  We’re not the Maker but the objects made,

  Content though weak—this is the way we’ve stayed,

  Saying: ‘Myself! Myself!’* repeatedly;

  We’d all be demons if You should decree.

  Escape from demons due to this we find:

  You have redeemed our souls from being blind;

  You show the way to all who are alive—

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  Without their sticks how can the blind survive!

  Whatever’s sweet or bitter, all but You,

  Burns humans up and is fire’s essence too,

  Whoever’s refuge and support’s a flame

  As Zoroastrians has become the same,*

  For everything but God is foul and vain;

  God’s grace is that cloud which pours down much rain.

  Resumption of the story about Ali and his leniency towards his own killer

  Think of Ali and his vile murderer,

  The kindness he showed his inferior:

  He said, ‘I see my foe by day and night

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  But I nurse no bad feelings, nor feel spite,

  For, just like manna, death to me tastes sweet