The Masnavi, Book Three
Page 9
He mingled with the wealthy, whom he’d tell:
‘I’ve feasted at a party—can’t you tell?’
He’d then touch his moustache as if to say:
‘There’s grease on my moustache—all look this way!
This is the proof that what I claim is true;
The food I ate was rich and tasty too.’
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His stomach would in silence then reply:
‘God ruin all the schemes of those who’d lie!
Your boasting has engulfed me now in flames.
May your moustache be pulled out for your claims!
Beggar, your ugly boasts are blocking me
From aid from generous men with sympathy;
If you had shown the ailment and not played,
By now a doctor’s cure would have been made.’
God said, ‘Don’t move perversely ears or tails;
The truthfulness of truthful men prevails.’*
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Wet-dreamer, don’t sleep curled up in that state!
Show what you have! Be steadfast and be straight!*
Admit your flaws or else at least refrain
From boasts—your tricks will kill you. They’re your bane.
Even if you’ve got hold of gold, stop talking!
Touchstones await along the path you’re walking,
And there are, for these touchstones, more tests too
To make sure that their own state’s always true.
‘From birth to death,’ God said, and thus made clear,
‘Each one of them is tested twice a year.’*
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Test upon test awaits, my friend—don’t rest
So chuffed that you have passed the smallest test.
How Bal‘am ben Ba’ur felt secure for God had tested him and he had passed well
Bal‘am Ba’ur and Satan both became
Debased at the last test that finally came.
This man craves wealth, as his claims indicate;
His belly slams his moustache, though, irate,
Saying: ‘Show what he’s hiding with that face.
He has consumed me—God, give him disgrace!
All of his body parts are now his foes—
He boasts of spring while they feel winter’s woes.’
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Boasting repels the kindness men might show,
Severs the branch from where it used to grow.
Be silent, if you can’t say what is true—
You’ll then see mercy and enjoy it too.
His belly now was his moustache’s foe;
It prayed in secret so he wouldn’t know:
‘O Lord, disgrace this braggart who is base.
Bring generous people’s kindness in his place!’
An answer came then to the belly’s prayer;
Its neediness’s fire produced signs there.
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‘Though you be sinners and idolaters,’
God said, ‘I answer all petitioners.
Hold steadfastly to prayer and weeping too,
As, from the ghoul, this will deliver you.’
His belly pledged itself to God that day—
A cat then snatched that man’s sheep’s tail away.
His family chased that cat to no avail.
Fear of being scolded turned that man’s child pale;
He came towards his father in the crowd,
And caused him to lose face by saying aloud:
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‘That sheep’s tail that you use each break of day
To grease your lips and moustache in that way—
A cat came by and snatched it suddenly;
I chased it, but it was too fast for me.’
Those present laughed from sheer amazement then,
And pity in them was soon moved again—
They each invited him to eat his full,
Sowing, in his soil, seeds so merciful.
When from the nobles he saw honesty,
He shunned pride to become Truth’s devotee.
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How the jackal which fell into the dyeing vat pretended to be a peacock
That multi-coloured jackal came one day
And tapped a critic’s earlobe twice, to say:
‘Everyone, look at me and all my colours.
An idol like me dazzles idol-lovers!
Just like a rosebush, I am beautiful
And colourful—bow down, be dutiful!
Behold my splendour, radiance, hue and glory!
“Pride of the world”, “Pillar of faith”—they suit me.*
I’m now the theatre of God’s grace for you,
The Tablet where divinity’s shown too.*
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Jackals, don’t call me “jackal” any more!
Have you seen one as beautiful before?’
Those jackals gathered, moths to a bright flame—
To be their candle was that jackal’s aim:
‘What fitting name can we call you? Tell us,
Peacock, with Jupiter’s auspiciousness!’
They then said, ‘Peacocks of the soul display
Their tails inside the rose garden, don’t they?
So can you do that too?’ He answered, ‘No,
To reach Mena there’s a long way to go.’*
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‘Can you squawk like a peacock then instead?’
He answered, ‘No.’ ‘You’re not one!’ they all said.
‘The peacock’s cloak comes from beyond the skies—
How can you gain that through false claims and lies?’
Comparison of Pharaoh and his claim to divinity with that jackal who claimed to be a peacock
Like Pharaoh, proudly, you now wish to pass
Lord Jesus, but you fly just like an ass!
Pharaoh was a vile jackal’s child like that,
But he fell into status and wealth’s vat:
Whoever saw his wealth and status bowed;
He bought fake worship from those who’d been wowed—
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That ragged beggar got intoxicated
By the stunned looks of those who had prostrated.
Wealth is a snake which has a deadly poison;
Accepting people’s worship is a dragon.
Pharaoh, don’t act as if you’ve majesty.
Jackal, don’t act like peacocks. We can see!
If peacocks should encounter you one day,
You’ll seem a fool—no feathers to display!
Moses and Aaron were like peacocks who
Displayed their feathers straight in front of you.
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Your ugliness and shame were brought to sight
And you fell head first from a lofty height.
The touchstone showed that all your coin was base—
The lion’s gone; a dog’s now in its place.
You ugly, wolfish dog, do not put on
A lion’s skin through greed—you fool no one!
The lion’s roar will test you, for you lied—
A lion’s semblance with a dog inside.
Exegesis of ‘You will know them through the corruption of their speech’*
God told the Prophet, ‘Vile hypocrisy
Has a clear sign that you’ll see easily:
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A hypocrite,* though huge and causing terror,
Has warped speech that will spare us all from error.’
When you buy earthenware pots, customer,
You test them out, to see which you prefer—
Why do you tap them first on the outside?
To check there are no cracks on the inside.
A cracked one sounds distinct from one that’s not—
This is the herald stood before the pot:
The sound tells you about its true condition;
Verbs show the verbal noun’s own definition.
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The subject of a trial has filled my min
d—
About Harut’s tale trials always remind:
Story about Harut and Marut and their boldness during the trials from God
I’ve shared a little of this tale before,*
One small tale from a hundred thousand more.
I wished to speak of truths deemed mystical,
But I’ve been held back by an obstacle.
A little of it will be told again—
One leg of a huge mammoth we’ll explain.
You must heed Harut and Marut’s own story
Then we’ll be servants of your face’s glory!
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They got drunk through observing God; they’d view
With awe the marvels that the Lord would do.
Such drunkenness comes slowly, so imagine
Drunkenness caused by mystical ascension!
That drunkenness came from his snare’s small bait—
Imagine at His feast what fills each plate!
The pair were drunken and freed from the noose,
So they gave screams that lovers can produce.
One test and ambush still stood in the way—
Its wind blew mountains, as if straw, away!
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This turned them upside down despite their wings—
How can a drunk be conscious of such things?
To him a ditch and prairie are no different;
He’d stroll in pits and ditches too, indifferent.
The goat runs up the mountain’s slope, to find
Some food that’s safe to eat with peace of mind.
While gathering some grass it suddenly
Will witness a new trick from God’s decree:
It glances at the mountain opposite
And sees a she-goat who seduces it.
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This goat gets bleary-eyed and starts to run,
Leaving its mountain for the other one.
To this drunk goat, it’s less than going round
A drain-hole which in a small hut is found:
Thousands of yards to it seem like one yard—
Drunkenly, it thinks jumping there’s not hard,
But when it jumps, it falls between the pair—
Two mountains with a gap, and no net there.
From hunters to the mountain it had fled,
But its own sanctuary now will leave it dead.
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Between the mountains, hunters sit and wait
For God to bring about His wondrous fate—
Hunting of goats is like this usually,
Otherwise they’d elude their enemy.
Though Rostam had great honour and stood tall,
Lust would ensnare him still and make him fall—
From lust’s strong stupor you must break away!
Observe it in the camel clear as day!
Know also that this worldly drunkenness
Compared with that of angels is worth less:
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That drunkenness would stun this weaker kind—
Why should the angels pay it any mind?
Until you have drunk pure, sweet water too,
Briny water’s the sweetest kind to you.
One drop of heaven’s wine would tear away
Your soul from this world’s wine they serve today.
Imagine then the angels’ drunkenness,
And spirits made pure by the Glorious,
Whose hearts, at just one whiff, have all been hurled
Towards that wine, smashing vats of this world,
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In contrast to those kept far, who breathe sighs
Like infidels in graves, all blocked from eyes,
Those who’ve lost hope of both worlds and have sown
Thorns ceaselessly, to spread woe like their own.
Harut and Marut drunkenly then said,
‘We’d rain like clouds on land, and then we’d spread,
In this place of injustice, equity,
Devotion, justice, and pure loyalty.’
The Lord’s decree said, ‘Stop!’ when they spoke thus,
‘The traps in front of you are numerous.
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Don’t boldly head to deserts full of pain.
Don’t blindly go to Kerbala’s dry plain.
For due to bones and hair from all the dead,
A traveller’s feet can’t find the path ahead:
Bones, guts, and hair fill the whole road, my friend.
Wrath’s sword’s brought many things there to their end.’
‘My servants walk serenely!’ God has said,
‘Since they’re connected to my special aid.
Who’d walk upon thorns when his feet are bare
Without a pause to think and to beware?’
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Their ears were closed—God spoke to no avail—
Then blocked up by hot-headedness’s veil.
All closed their eyes and ears except the few
Who’d fled their selves and had been born anew.
What opens eyes but sheer grace from above?
What pacifies your rage apart from love?
May no one ever toil and forgo rest
Without God granting triumph. God knows best.
Story about Pharaoh’s dream of Moses’ arrival and his thoughts about how to avoid this
Pharaoh’s work was without God’s aid, and so
It came apart however much he’d sew.
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He had one thousand court astrologers,
Skilled sorcerers, and dream-interpreters.
He dreamed that Moses would be born that year
And then destroy that kingdom he held dear,
And so he asked them, ‘What can I now do
To stop this dream I had from coming true?’
They answered, ‘We’ll together form a plan
Preventing his birth like a highwayman.’
Before the night on which his birth was due,
These men thought then the best course to pursue
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Was bringing to the public square that day
The royal throne and footstool on display,
Proclaiming, ‘Welcome, Israelites, the king
Summons you from where you’ve been lingering,
So he can show to you, unveiled, his face
And treat you well, to earn from God His grace.’
Those captives weren’t allowed, at his insistence,
To look at him before, except from distance;
If they should come across him travelling round,
By law they’d have to lie and face the ground:
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The law decreed, ‘No captive is allowed
To see the ruler’s face of which we’re proud.
Whenever they should hear his heralds call,
Each has to put his face against a wall.
And if one sees him, he’s a criminal—
He’ll earn the harshest punishment of all.’
Each Israelite longed secretly inside
To see that face—Man craves what he’s denied.
How they summoned the Israelites to the main square as a trick to prevent the birth of Moses
The heralds called, ‘Head to the public square,
For you may see the king and his gifts there!’
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On hearing these words, every Israelite
Thirsted and yearned to see this longed-for sight.
They swallowed all the lies and planned to go,
So each prepared himself for the big show.
A story
A cunning Mongol once said suddenly:
‘I’m seeking an Egyptian, so help me!
Bring the Egyptians here, so that I may
Identify the one I want today.’
When each one came ‘It’s not you,’ he’d declare.
‘Go and sit in that corner over there.’
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All of them were assembl
ed in this fashion,
Thus they tricked then beheaded each Egyptian.
Such is the bad luck for those who don’t care
To heed the one who gives the call to prayer:
Those men were tempted by the trickster’s call—
Take care, well-guided one, that you don’t fall!
And heed the cries of poor and needy men
Lest your ears heed the trickster’s cries again.
Though beggars be both greedy and uncouth,
Among such gluttons seek the men of Truth.
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Pearls are among the pebbles; just the same
Glory is found when one has gone through shame.
The Jewish men began to stir at dawn,
And rushed out to see what was going on.
Pharaoh, through cunning, lured them to that place