The Masnavi, Book Three

Remaining in the worst times just as true.

  2225

  Seek out this group before you’re next distressed,

  Afflicted man, judge them a treasure-chest.

  The hero’s breath released the ship, but they

  Thought they’d done it themselves still anyway,

  They thought at this most dangerous moment still

  Their arrow struck the aim through their own skill.

  Foxes’ legs save them during hunting season,

  They credit though their tails for no good reason,

  And play with them so fondly, thinking: ‘They

  Saved our lives in the ambush yesterday.’

  2230

  Fox, save your tail from brickbats. A mere tail,

  When you have no legs, is of no avail.

  We’re foxes, Friends of God our legs who save

  Us from so many dangers that are grave.

  Our subtle scheming is our tail, and we

  Make love to it each day continually:

  We wag our tails with our argumentation,

  To dazzle men and win their admiration.

  We want to dazzle people constantly

  And lustfully grab at divinity,

  2235

  To rule hearts with mere spells—but there’s a hitch:

  We can’t see that we’re stuck deep in a ditch.

  You wretch, you’re in a ditch despite your airs—

  Keep your nose out of other men’s affairs!

  Once you have reached a lovely garden, you

  Can then lead other people up there too.

  You live in the material world’s cramped gaol,

  And try to guide the rest to no avail.

  You serve the donkey, kissing its backside

  Yet try to lead us to that place with pride!

  2240

  Serving God didn’t suddenly appear

  In you, so how did lust for rule reach here.

  You have tied cords around yourself just to

  Make everyone say ‘Bravo!’ now to you.

  Fox, leave this tail of tricks and cunning things—

  Entrust your heart now to the mystic kings.

  A lion’s protection guarantees you meat,

  So don’t rush to a carcass now to eat!

  You’ll start to love God at that moment, soul,

  When you move like a part back to its whole.

  2245

  God said, ‘We watch the heart and do not pay

  Heed to the form of water and mere clay.’

  You answer, ‘I too own a heart, you know.’

  Real hearts are higher than God’s own throne though:

  There’s water in dark mud across the land,

  But that’s not suitable to wash your hand,

  For it’s been spoiled by mud, so don’t you start

  To claim your heart is also a real heart.

  Hearts loftier than the heavens are possessed

  By Abdals and the Prophets, not the rest.

  2250

  Cleansed of soil, theirs is purified and it

  Has grown to be complete, immaculate.

  Abandoning soil, it has now reached the sea;

  It’s oceanic—from soil’s gaol it’s free.

  Our water, though, is trapped in mud today—

  Ocean of mercy, draw us out of clay!

  The ocean says, ‘I’d drag you here somehow,

  But you pretend you are sweet water now.’

  Your own pretence blocks you—give up that view

  And come out into me, as I draw you.

  2255

  Water in mud desires to join the sea,

  But mud still pulls its feet back stubbornly—

  If water frees its feet from mud’s grip, then

  Mud is left dry, and it is free again.

  What draws from mud the water, friend of mine?

  Attraction to the mystic sweets and wine.

  There is a very similar kind of lust

  For rank and wealth in this low realm of dust:

  Each one of these makes you intoxicated

  And hangovers come when your lust’s frustrated;

  2260

  The hangover’s ache proves your drunkenness

  Originates from sources valued less.

  Don’t take more of such things than you must do

  Or they’ll soon conquer and rule over you.

  You turned away; ‘I have a heart!’ you cried,

  ‘I am in union, with needs satisfied.’

  Water in mud once turned away and said:

  ‘I am pure water—why should I seek aid?’

  You reckoned that polluted thing a heart

  And from the mystic lords kept it apart;

  2265

  That thing loves milk and honey—do you feel

  It should be counted as a heart that’s real?

  Sweetness is the heart’s shadow, so of course

  Each sweet thing gets this from the heart, its source.

  The heart’s the essence and the world is just

  Its accident, for which no heart can lust;

  Can hearts love wealth and status like a fool

  Or be the captive of a muddy pool?

  Or worship vain thoughts and imagination

  For the sake only of good reputation?

  2270

  The heart’s naught but an ocean of pure light;

  It’s where you see God—how can it lack sight?

  The heart’s not owned by everyone around,

  But just one person—where can he be found?

  Forget those crumbs, seek a complete heart, friend!

  So yours will be a mountain in the end.

  The heart encompasses all being; you’ll see

  It scatter gold through generosity—

  It scatters blessings through its own volition

  From God, to reach the world’s whole population.

  2275

  All gold that the heart scatters is collected

  By those whose skirts are ready and corrected;

  Your skirt’s your desperate need for God, no less—

  Don’t place in it your store of wickedness,

  Or else it might get torn by that mistake—

  Then you won’t tell a real coin from a fake.

  You’ve filled your skirt with worldly stones, a few

  Being gold and silver, just as children do.

  They are imaginary, since there’s no gold;

  Your skirt got torn and grief increased tenfold.

  2280

  How can a stone be seen as a mere stone

  By children till their brain makes this fact known?

  The pir* is wisdom, not mere greying hair,

  Which cannot reach their realm beyond compare.

  That group disapprove of the supplication and intercession by Daquqi and fly away, disappearing beyond the veil over the Unseen. Daquqi becomes bewildered, asking: ‘Did they disappear into the air or into the ground?’

  Once the ship had been rescued fully there

  The congregation finished then their prayer.

  They started murmuring what soon grew clearer:

  ‘Who was that busybody interferer?’

  Each one of them would speak up critically,

  Hidden then from the ears of Daquqi,

  2285

  Saying, ‘It wasn’t me who made that prayer

  To God to save that boat with special care.’

  One added, ‘That prayer leader through despair

  Interfered by performing such a prayer.’

  Another said, ‘You’re right; it seemed to me

  Exactly as you’ve thought it all to be.

  He interfered because grief left him pained,

  And tried now to oppose what God ordained.’

  Daquqi thought, ‘When I now looked behind

  To try to find out what was on their mind,

  2290

  I couldn’t see there any of the
m—they

  Had somehow all just disappeared away:

  Neither above, below, the left, or right,

  I couldn’t spot them anywhere in sight,

  As if they were such pearls that melt away

  Without a footprint or dust tracks that stay.

  That moment they’d all entered in God’s dome—

  Into which meadow did that flock then roam?

  I stayed perplexed and wondered how God hid

  That group from my eyes suddenly as he did.’

  2295

  The way that fish dive into streams—they too

  Became concealed so quickly from his view.

  He grieved the loss of them for many years,

  And out of longing shed so many tears.

  We might well think, ‘How should God’s slave be seeing

  Alongside God his fellow human being?’

  The ass collapses here, for you saw all

  Of them as merely flesh and not of soul.

  The whole affair is ruined, immature man,

  For, like the vulgar, you saw them as human.

  2300

  You looked at them in wretched Satan’s way

  When he said, ‘I’m of fire, while he’s of clay.’*

  Close your Satanic eye for just one moment!

  On seeing external forms why be insistent?

  Stop your sore eyes from streaming—don’t despair,

  Daquqi, seek such men out everywhere.

  To gain good fortune seeking is the start;

  Paths open when your wish consumes your heart.

  Detached from this world, with no thought to spare

  For it, and cooing dove-like to ask, ‘Where?’*

  2305

  Veiled one, consider well this observation:

  God linked ‘I’ll answer’* to Man’s supplication.

  The prayer of the pure heart is ailment-free;

  It reaches the Great Lord of Majesty.

  A further explanation of the story about the one who, in the time of David, sought a lawful livelihood without exertion or toil, and how his prayer was answered

  I’ll now recall for you an earlier tale:

  A pauper day and night would moan and wail,

  Begging God for a lawful sustenance

  That won’t require hunts, work, or effort once.

  About some of its aspects I have told,

  But the postponement has become fivefold.

  2310

  We’ll mention it now too—where can it go,

  When, from the clouds, God’s wisdom pours below.

  The owner of the cow screamed furiously:

  ‘You who have shown my cow such cruelty,

  Explain to me why you have murdered her;

  For once be decent, stupid pilferer!’

  ‘I faced the Lord’s direction’, that man said,

  ‘And begged him in my prayer for daily bread.

  My old, decrepit prayer drew a response:

  I killed it as that was my sustenance.’

  2315

  The owner grabbed his collar violently,

  Then punched his face a while impatiently.

  The two adversaries go before David

  To Prophet David he then dragged the pauper,

  Saying, ‘Come with me wretched, stupid robber!

  Leave your proofs, bastard! They will not convince.

  Wake up again! Use some intelligence!

  What prayer? What are you mumbling now at me?

  Do not insult and mock my dignity!’

  ‘In saying that prayer’, then the pauper said,

  ‘Inside I’ve suffered; a high price I’ve paid.

  2320

  I’m sure my prayer was answered in that way,

  So beat yourself, foul-mouthed one! Go away!’

  The owner shouted, ‘Muslims, gather round

  To witness drivel from one who’s unsound—

  For God’s sake, how can what belongs to me

  Through prayer become instead his property?

  If that were true, the whole world could use prayers

  To claim another’s property as theirs.

  If that were true, blind beggars could change then

  Into fine princes and rich noble men—

  2325

  They make such supplications day and night:

  “God give to us!” they beg without respite,

  “Unless You give, no one will give at all.

  Opener, open the lock!” the beggars bawl.

  Prayer is the means in which the blind must trust,

  But they receive naught but a stale loaf’s crust.’

  The people said, ‘The truth is what we’re hearing;

  The other one with prayers is profiteering!

  How can prayer be possession’s proof and cause?

  When was this part of the Shariah’s laws?

  2330

  Something becomes yours through donation, sale,

  Bequest, and gift, or it’s of no avail.

  Where is this new law? Cite the page as well!

  Give back the cow or it’s the prison cell!’

  He looked up at the sky, ‘No one but You

  Knows the reality and what is true.

  It’s You who put inside my heart that prayer

  And raised a hundred hopes inside of there—

  My claim’s not idle, though that’s how it seems;

  Like Prophet Joseph I had seen some dreams.’

  2335

  Joseph had seen the sun and stars prostrate

  Before him, though that is a servant’s trait.

  He trusted in his dream, so in the well

  And prison, he sought naught else—time would tell.

  That reassurance spared him from distress

  In slavery, blame, and owning more or less.

  He would rely on that dream, which shone bright

  Just like a glowing candle to his sight.

  When Joseph was thrown down the well, a cry

  Came down to reach his pure ears from on high:

  2340

  ‘You will become a king one day, and then

  You’ll rub injustice in their face again.’

  The One who said this wasn’t visible,

  But to the heart He was perceptible:

  Much strength, support, and inner peace he found

  Inside his soul due to that speech’s sound.

  This strength helped him endure contentedly

  Whatever came his way of tragedy.

  A feast and rosebush soon replaced that well;

  Abraham’s fire changed just like this as well.*

  2345

  The way Alast’s deep question gave a savour

  That keeps believers’ hearts content forever;

  They never struggle to resist affliction,

  Nor feel upset due to God’s prohibition.

  Rose syrup shall consume the bitter taste

  Of portions of God’s will that they have faced.

  But those without rose syrup as digestive

  Will vomit morsels that they find repulsive.

  Whoever’s dreamed once of Alast’s fine day

  Is drunk entirely on devotion’s way—

  2350

  Like drunken camels, he now bears his sack

  Without doubts, flagging, or becoming slack.

  His mouth foams too with holy testimony,

  As proof he’s drunk and lovesick genuinely.

  This camel has become now lion-strong

  Through eating little food for very long.

  For the she-camel numerous fasts he’ll bear;

  A mountain he’ll regard a strand of hair.

  One who has not dreamed of Alast meets failure:

  In this world they lack mystical endeavour.

  2355

  Instead he’ll vacillate much, still unclear,

  Thanking God, then complaining for a year,

  Forward then backward on
religion’s way,

  Uncertain, vacillating every day.

  I owe you help, so you can understand—

  Listen one moment: ‘Did we not expand?’*

  The explanation’s limitless, so now

  Let’s go back to the man who claimed the cow:

  The one who killed it prayed, ‘That fake called me

  Blind due to this, and spoke unfaithfully.

  2360

  When have I ever prayed like blind men plead

  Or shown to anyone but God my need?

  To men, in ignorance, the blind make pleas;

  I want just You, You Who make hardship ease.

  He’s blind, but thinks I am. He cannot see

  My neediness and deep sincerity.

  My blindness is because of love, the kind

  Mohammad said “makes people deaf and blind”.