The Masnavi, Book Three

  I see the fountain, but the water’s gone.

  Maybe a highway robber’s moved me on?’

  The sweetheart said, ‘That means I’m not for you:

  I’m in this place; your sweetheart’s far from view.

  1415

  You are in love with both me and a state;

  You’ve lost that state, and now it is too late.

  I’m not the whole of what’s sought by your heart;

  Of what you seek I am now just one part.’

  I am His home, not the Loved One within—

  Love’s based on cash, not the collection tin.

  He Who is One is your Beloved Friend;

  He is One, your beginning and your end.

  When you find Him, you’ll lose all expectations;

  He’s hidden and yet in manifestations.

  1420

  He directs states; they don’t rule Him—it’s clear,

  The way the moon determines month and year.

  When He commands states, they of course obey;

  Bodies turn into souls when He should say.

  One hasn’t reached the end if one’s dependent;

  One who seeks states is one who’s still expectant.

  His hand’s the alchemy of states; if he

  Moves it, then copper swoons in ecstasy.

  Death will turn sweet if He commands it to,

  Nettles and thorns will turn to flowers too.

  1425

  If you’re still tied to states, you’re human still;

  You let them make you feel high or feel ill.

  Each Sufi is ‘the moment’s son’,* but he

  Who’s pure is free from time’s grip totally.

  States are determined by his will and whim,

  And live through Jesus-like breath breathed by him.

  You are in love with states and not with me;

  It’s for a state you joined my company.

  One who’s now lacking, now complete, is one

  That sets, a thing that Abraham would shun;

  1430

  The one that sets and changes is one he

  Would shun: ‘The ones that set aren’t loved by me!’*

  The one who’s sad now, and now feels elation,

  Is fire then water, prone to transformation.

  He is the moon’s house, but it is quite obvious

  He’s not the moon; an idol’s form is worthless.

  The Sufi is ‘the moment’s son’ when he

  Clasps time as if his father, desperately.

  In love of God the pure one thus gets drowned,

  Beyond states, no one’s son, in no way bound.

  1435

  Drowned in light never born—have you forgotten

  That God does not beget nor was begotten.*

  If you’re alive, seek love that’s so sublime

  Like this; if not you’re bound by changing time.

  Leave all your vile and pretty forms behind—

  Look at love and at Whom you hope to find!

  Don’t worry if you’re ugly or you’re weak,

  For aspiration’s all you need to seek.

  Whatever you are, keep on seeking. Try!

  Keep seeking water though your lips are dry,

  1440

  For your dry lips give evidence that they

  Will reach the water’s source as well one day:

  Dryness of lips is water’s reassurance:

  ‘You’re led to water by all this disturbance.’

  Thus seeking’s a blest action that can slay

  And wipe out obstacles stood in the way.

  To things you long for, seeking is the key;

  It is your army’s flag and victory.

  This seeking is just like a cock that crows

  When dawn arrives, so everybody knows.

  1445

  Keep seeking—lack of means should be ignored;

  You need no tools when travelling to the Lord.

  Befriend those you see searching, son, and bow

  Your head down in devotion to them now.

  By mixing with them you’ll turn to a searcher;

  Through conquerors’ shadows, you’ll become a conqueror.

  If an ant seeks the rank of Solomon,

  Don’t look down at its effort or poke fun.

  Though you have wealth and skill now, were they not

  In the beginning just a wish you sought?

  1450

  Story about the person who, in the time of the Prophet David, would pray night and day, crying: ‘Give me lawful livelihood without struggle!’

  In Prophet David’s era there was one

  Who’d say before both sage and simpleton:

  ‘O God, grant riches to me through Your grace

  Without a struggle though for me to face,

  Since you created me a lazy brat,

  Sluggish and slothful, and so proud of that.

  A mule’s load is not something one can pack

  On a mere donkey with a feeble back;

  I’m lazy, God, created thus by You—

  Grant sustenance through being lazy too!

  1455

  I’m lazy, dozing in the shade of grace

  And of existence, which You’ve put in place.

  Surely you’ve sent a means to earn their keep

  To lazy men who always love to sleep?

  All who can move will seek a livelihood,

  So pity those who can’t move to find food.

  Send daily bread to those who feel much grief

  The way that rainclouds bring dry land relief:

  Land has no feet, so Your munificence

  Drives clouds there to deliver rain at once.

  1460

  Babies can’t walk, and so their mothers feed

  Them every day with all the food they’ll need.

  I want my portion to come suddenly

  Without more than a plea to come from me.’

  For a long while he stayed this way to pray,

  From dawn to dusk, from night to break of day.

  People laughed at his words and raw desire

  To gain without work that would make him tire.

  ‘What crazy things he’s saying!’ people said,

  ‘Did someone give him drugs to lose his head?

  1465

  The way to earn is hard work every week;

  God gave all men skills and the need to seek—

  Through those means seek out daily bread! Don’t wait

  Expectant, enter their homes through the gate!*

  The Prophet and the ruler of this era

  Is David, whose great skills could not be clearer.

  He has much might and pomp; he’s been perfected

  By blessings, since by God he’s been selected.

  The miracles he can perform are countless;

  His flow of waves of bounty is relentless.

  1470

  No one like him, from Adam till today,

  Sang better than the instruments men play;

  At sermons, where huge crowds had congregated,

  By his sweet voice all were annihilated.

  His preaching would attract both lion and deer,

  Oblivious to the other one being near.

  Mountains and birds would join in when he’d preach,

  Both confidants allowed within close reach.

  And he had further miracles: his face

  Shone light that came from far beyond all space.

  1475

  Despite this might, God made it understood

  He too must struggle for a livelihood;

  Without his weaving chain-mail, naught came down

  As daily bread, despite his huge renown.

  And yet a filthy wretch who’s God-forsaken,

  Attached to earth and kept outside of heaven,

  The kind who wishes for material gains

  Without the need to work or suffer pains,

  This giddy
-headed fool’s come to declare:

  “Without a ladder I’ll climb in the air.”’

  1480

  One man would mock him, saying, ‘Go ahead,

  Here comes your harbinger and daily bread.’

  Another man would laugh in disbelief:

  ‘Give us some of your gift, great village chief!’

  But he would not reduce his praise and prayers

  Due to the people’s many jokes and stares.

  This man then quickly grew so infamous

  As one who’d buy food with an empty purse,

  Seen as a symbol of stupidity,

  Yet asking God for things still ceaselessly . . .

  1485

  How a cow ran into the house of one who was praying importunately. The Prophet has said: ‘God loves those who are importunate in prayer, since the asking from God and the importunity of the requester are better than what he is praying for’

  . . . Until one morning while he was still praying

  With sighs as well as words that he was saying—

  A cow ran in his house then suddenly,

  Ramming the door to break the bolt and key.

  Boldly the cow rushed in, but couldn’t cope—

  The man leapt up and bound its legs with rope.

  He slit the cow’s throat with no hesitation,

  Mercilessly, without consideration,

  Then hurried to the butcher straight away

  To get that man to flay its skin away.

  1490

  The poet excuses himself and appeals for help

  You who, inside me like an embryo,

  Make such demands, help me fulfil them! Show

  The way and grant success, or else please stop

  Making demands of me. Please let it drop!

  If you demand from one in penury

  Much gold, first give him it, king, secretly.

  Without you, poetry each single night

  Would not dare to emerge within our sight;

  O Knowing One, rhyme, prose, and poetry

  Are Your command’s slaves acting fearfully.

  1495

  You’ve made all things as glorifiers of You,

  Inanimates and animate beings too.

  In different fashions each one sings Your praise,

  Each unaware of all the other ways.

  Most don’t believe inanimates can sing

  His praise, though they have mastered worshipping;

  Even the seventy-two sects* are without

  Knowledge about each other, plagued with doubt.

  When people speaking have no clue at all

  What can a mute door know about the wall?

  1500

  Of prayers by those who speak I’m unaware—

  How can my ears then hear the mute one’s prayer?

  The Sunnite has a special kind of praise;

  The fatalists opt for contrasting ways—

  Sunnites can’t hear the fatalists’ glorifications;

  While they can’t hear the former’s great laudations,

  Yet say, ‘That one is lost and far astray,

  Heedless of God’s command: “Stand up to pray!”’

  The Sunnite says, ‘What does he understand?’

  God has thus made them clash through His command.

  1505

  He brings to view each of their essences,

  And He makes clear what are the differences.

  Each man can tell apart His wrath and grace,

  Whether he’s wise or ignorant and base,

  But grace that hides in wrath or wrath inside

  The heart of mercy, with no sign outside—

  This can be seen by holy ones alone;

  Through mystic touchstones in their hearts it’s known.

  Mere speculation must fulfil the rest

  Who fly with just one wing towards their nest.

  1510

  Explanation that knowledge has two wings and conjecture one—conjecture is deficient and cannot fly; and a comparison of conjecture with certainty

  True knowledge has two wings, conjecture one.

  You can’t fly with one wing—though it might run,

  The one-winged bird falls headlong to the floor,

  Then spurts up just a few feet high once more;

  Conjecture’s bird jumps up, then falls distressed,

  Hoping with just one wing to reach its nest.

  When it breaks from conjecture, knowledge brings

  The answer and it opens up two wings.

  After this, it will travel straight and evenly

  Not falling on its face or hobbling feebly.*

  1515

  Now with two wings, like Gabriel it flies straight

  Without conjecture, hot air, or debate.

  If all the world tells it, ‘You’ve fled perdition

  On God’s path, following the true religion,’

  It won’t feel flattered, and its peerless soul

  Won’t join with them who would try to cajole.

  And if they tell it, ‘You have truly strayed,

  Thinking you’re mountain-like—you’re a straw-blade,’

  These taunts won’t cause it to succumb to doubt

  And it won’t feel hurt to see them walk out.

  1520

  Even if mountains and the sea should say:

  ‘You’re stuck with being left behind astray.’

  It won’t have any impact on its brain,

  And neither will the scoffers’ taunts cause pain.

  Parable about a man becoming ill owing to him imagining respect from people and the desire of customers for him; and the story about the teacher*

  A teacher caused his pupils so much stress

  Due to hard toil which led to weariness.

  They talked about how they could halt the course

  And make him leave his teaching post by force:

  ‘Since this man’s never sick, what can we do

  To make him take days off, and free us too

  1525

  From toil and from this cage which he would lock—

  This man is hard to budge, like solid rock.’

  One of the cunning children planned this way:

  ‘I’ll say: “Teacher, how pale you seem today!

  Are you okay? Your colour’s turning pale, sir.

  Is it because of fever or the weather?”

  The teacher will now wonder if he’s sick

  For a while, so we must extend this trick.

  Then you, my brother, on entering the gate,

  Ask, “Teacher, are you well? What is your state?”

  1530

  To make him worry that it might be bad,

  Because, through doubts, an intellect turns mad.

  Then, let three fellow classmates of ours follow

  Behind us to express concern and sorrow;

  Once thirty pupils have repeated this,

  It will be viewed as fact through witnesses.’

  The others said, ‘Bravo, sagacious friend!

  May you receive the grace that God should send.’

  They all agreed a firm pledge afterwards

  That none of them should try to change the words.

  1535

  And he gave them an oath to take right there

  Not to divulge the plan he would prepare.

  One child’s opinion influenced every mind:

  He went ahead; the flock would trail behind.

  Intellects have some similar differences

  As human beauty in appearances;

  ‘The excellence of men,’ the Prophet said,

  ‘Is hidden in their tongues.’ Don’t be misled!

  People’s intellects differ in their original nature, and according to the Mu’tazilites, they were originally equal, with differences emerging owing to the subsequent acquisition of knowledge

  Intellects varied much originally.

  This Sunni doctrine is our testimony.


  1540

  Opposing this, Mu’tazilites still claim

  Intellects were all equal and the same;

  Differences grew from later education,

  So some know more among the population.

  This is false, for a child’s opinion can,

  Though he lack the experience of a man,

  Produce such thoughts that people very old

  Can’t comprehend no matter how they’re told.

  Excellence in a man’s original nature

  Is better than what’s gained through struggle later.

  1545

  Tell me what’s best: gifts that God first bestows

  Or hoping one born lame walks when he grows?

  How the children make the teacher imagine things

  On the next day, the students hurriedly came

  To school with their plan and its clever aim.