The Masnavi, Book Three
Page 33
It started building down here with the goal
Of gaining knowledge fit for such a hole.
It chose the skills that would give benefit
And would prove here the most appropriate.
Since it held back its heart from trying to flee,
That road closed to its body fatefully.
Spiders aren’t of the phoenix’s great ilk,
Or else they wouldn’t live on flimsy silk.
The cat has pushed its paws inside the cage;
They’re called ‘cramp’ and ‘delirium’, good sage.
3985
The cat is death and its claws are disease—
It strikes the bird and rips its wings with ease.
Running to find the cure is one with sickness;
Death is the judge, this sick man is the witness.
This witness comes like the official who
Summons you to the court-house, forcing you
To beg respite with hope you’ll get away—
Will he accede, or order, ‘Come today!’?
Seeking respite means remedies you can
Use on your body’s tattered cloak, good man.
3990
He’ll come back angry once much time has passed:
‘How long you’ve had! You should feel shame at last.’
Jealous one, beg forgiveness, use your head
Before the day comes which you deeply dread.
The one who rides into the dark this way
Pulls back his heart from that light straight away—
He’s fleeing from the witness and his aim,
But will be called to judgment all the same.
The people of the mosque blame the visitor again for wanting to sleep in the mosque
Leave this behind—head to that man from earlier
Who came at night to that mosque as a visitor.
3995
‘Don’t be a fool! Begone!’ the people said,
‘Or do you wish to pawn your soul instead?
From distance it looks easy, but it’s worse;
This path is such a hard one to traverse.
Men hanged themselves as their necks broke and tried
To grasp support, but all too late. They died.
Before the war starts, people’s hearts can see
Evil distinct from good so easily,
But once inside the battlefield how can
That not be difficult for any man?
4000
You’re not a lion, so take heed and keep
Your distance; doom’s the wolf, your soul the sheep.
If you’re an Abdal and your sheep’s become
A lion, then don’t fret! Your death won’t come.
Who’s an Abdal? One who’s been substituted;
To vinegar his wine has been transmuted.
But you are drunk, foolhardy, and now dare
To dream you are a lion. Halt! Beware!
God said about foes with hypocrisy:
‘Among themselves they act courageously!’*
4005
Among themselves they’re brave, but in the fray
They’re scared like women who should keep away.
The Prophet, King of the Unseen, said: ‘Son,
Bravery’s no use before the war’s begun.’
Mouths foam when drunk on talk of the next battle,
But in that actual fight what use is spittle?
One draws his sword out, ready at war’s mention,
But in the fray it’s wrapped up like an onion.
His heart seeks wounds when war’s anticipated,
But with one needle his bag is deflated.
4010
I’m stunned by those who’re seeking purity,
But, at the time of scrubbing, choose to flee.
Love’s just a claim; pain is your proof, my friend.
If you’ve no proof, your claim’s void in the end.
When this judge asks for proof, don’t feel distressed,
But kiss the snake to find the treasure-chest!*
That harshness is not aimed at you, but at
Bad qualities in you. Remember that!
When a man beats his carpet clean, we trust
His target’s not the carpet, but the dust.
4015
If a harsh man should lash his horse, don’t grumble—
His aim is to make sure that it won’t stumble,
So it will start to trot in a straight line;
Fermenting grapes are sealed to turn to wine.
‘You struck the orphan many times!’ one said,
‘Didn’t God’s vengeance hold you back with dread?’
‘When did I ever strike him?’ he replied.
‘I struck the demons that he had inside.’
If your own mother screams, ‘May you die!’ she
Means that bad nature and iniquity.
4020
People who flee from their own reformation
Forsake their dignity and reputation.
They flee the battleground because of scolders,
And turn to sodomites instead of soldiers.
Don’t listen to the babbler’s boasts again.
Don’t line up at the battle with such men.
‘They would have just increased confusion.’ Run
As far as you can from each feeble one,
For if they go with you to war today,
Your army will feel empty soon like hay;
4025
They’ll join your side, then flee and break apart,
Making your battle-line weak at its heart.
Without such men a smaller army’s better
Than one which, through such hypocrites, grows bigger:
Pick almonds that taste sweet, though they be few,
Not huge piles that contain the bitter too.
For rattling, sweet and bitter are the same;
The defect is inside and that’s your aim.
The infidel has theorized about
The next world sceptically, and now his doubt
4030
Scares him: he roams but doesn’t know way stations—
The blind at heart walk with such trepidations.
How does he walk and not know the right way?
With anguished heart and dithering all day.
If someone tells him, ‘This route isn’t right.’
He stops there in his tracks because of fright.
But if his heart had learnt the right direction
How then could their words make him suffer tension?
Don’t go with camel-like men, who sink down
When they feel stress, and lie there with a frown.
4035
They’ll run away and leave you with no one
After they boast of power like Babylon.
Do not expect fair-looking men to fight;
Peacocks are not the right birds to invite—
Don’t give your carnal soul an invitation
To tempt you with sweet talk from your high station.
How Satan told the Qoraysh:* ‘Go to war with Mohammad and I will help you and call my tribe for support and how he fled when the two battle-lines faced each other’
Satan became the army’s chief this way:
He said: ‘I’ll be your helper from today!’*
When the Qoraysh then made their preparation
Before the armies came in confrontation,
4040
Satan saw angels lined up on the flanks
Prepared to fight with the believers’ ranks.
Those troops you couldn’t see* lined up so near
That they set Satan’s soul on fire with fear.
He turned around and started to withdraw,
Saying: ‘What an amazing troop I saw!
I fear God and against Him I’ve no aid.
Begone! I see what you can’t—be afraid!’
Hareth said, ‘You are in Soraqa’s guise,
So w
hy did you not forewarn of demise?’
4045
‘It’s only now that I have seen destruction.’
‘Just feeblest Arabs entered in your vision;
You see just them, but you’re base anyhow
For time to talk has passed—the war starts now.
You promised yesterday, “I swear success
Will be yours through my help and won’t grow less.”
Then, you were the whole army’s surety;
Now you are useless, vile, and cowardly.
After we’ve swallowed your words on each duel,
You flee to hot baths and use us as fuel.’
4050
When Hareth said this, that cursed enemy
Grew angry at his chiding, and then he
Drew back his hand and turned round to depart,
Because these words had brought pain to his heart.
Then, suddenly, he struck him on his chest,
Slaying the helpless one as he knows best.
When he had ruined worlds of men, he spoke:
‘I now am quit of you!’* This is no joke.
He struck him on his chest and made him fall;
Fear of God made him run then from it all.
4055
The self and Satan are one body; they
Make themselves look like two in their own way.
And angel and true knowledge are united,
Although for wisdom’s sake they seem divided.
You have a foe in your most hidden part
Which fights with your own faith, your brain, and heart.
Lizard-like it will launch attacks, and then
It scampers quickly down a hole again.
It has so many holes inside men’s hearts
From which to stick its head out as it darts.
4060
It’s called ‘the one who slinks back’:* from men’s souls
The Devil slips inside its secret holes.
It shrinks back in the way that hedgehogs do,
Popping their heads back out when they want to.
God called that Devil ‘he who shrinks back’* for
The hedgehog’s action is so similar:
It hides its head for periods due to fear
A savage hunter might then hurry near,
Until it’s safe to stick its head back out;
It can foil snakes with such tricks—have no doubt!
4065
If his self hadn’t robbed you from inside,
How could the robbers touch you from outside?
Because of that thug, lust, your heart will bleed,
Captive to covetousness and petty greed.
That inner hired thug has made you depraved,
So when the others come you’ll not be saved.
Heed what the Prophet counselled long ago:
‘Between your two sides is your fiercest foe.’
Don’t pay attention to its pomp, but flee,
For, Satan-like, it quarrels endlessly.
4070
For this world and for fighting others too
It’s made eternal pain seem light to you.
If it makes death seem light, don’t be astonished—
There’s so much more its magic has accomplished.
Magic can turn straw to a mountain, or
Transform a massive mountain to mere straw.
It makes the ugly pretty in men’s view,
And pretty things seem ugly then to you.
Magic’s work is to breathe and then transform
Realities far from their previous norm.
4075
It shows a man to be an ass, and can
Transform an ass into a marvellous man.
A sorcerer who does that is in you:
Temptation’s mystery’s hidden from your view.
In that world where there are such sorceries,
Resisters have great powers as strong as these.
In that plain where the poison grows, my son,
The antidote grows too for everyone.
The antidote says, ‘Seek a shield from me.
I’m closer than the poison, if you see.
4080
Its words are magic, but they cause destruction;
My words are magic, yet they give protection.’
The scolders repeat their advice to that visitor to the mosque that kills guests
‘The Prophet said, “Clear talk has sorcery,”
And that great hero spoke so truthfully.
Don’t be so dumb! Go back the way you came!
Don’t make us and the mosque receive more blame,
For foes speak out of enmity, and they
Will set fire to us on the following day,
Claiming: “A cruel man strangled him. No noose.
The murderer’s safe due to that mosque excuse:
4085
He easily can give the mosque the blame,
And leave scot-free due to that mosque’s bad name.”
Brave man, don’t lay suspicion on us. We
Are far from safe from our foes’ trickery.
Don’t be so stupid! Don’t be a mad fool!
You cannot measure Saturn with a rule.
Men tried their luck as you wish to in vain,
Then tore their beards out, clump by clump, with pain.
Cut short this talk. It’s time for you to go.
Don’t cast yourself and us in much more woe.’
4090
The visitor answers them and tells the parable of the guard of the cultivated land who, by beating a mere tambour, fended off a camel on whose back they were playing Shah Mahmud’s* kettledrum
He said, ‘I’m not a devil, honestly!
And so “God give me strength!”* won’t stifle me.’
A boy who used to guard a field would beat
His kettledrum to make the birds retreat,
Scattering away because of that drum’s sound,
To leave the field safe with no birds around.
When the great Shah Mahmud passed by that way
He pitched a huge tent near it, for he’d stay
With a huge army like a galaxy,
All-conquering brave-hearts who fought valiantly.
4095
The army’s kettledrum was on a camel,
A Bactrian which strutted like a cockerel.
That kettledrum was banged each night and day
When they returned or set out for the fray.
The camel entered that field for the wheat;
The boy took out his drum, began to beat.
‘Don’t bang your little drum!’ a wise man said,
‘For it is used to drums and won’t feel dread.
What good’s your small drum? Don’t you realize
It carries one that’s twenty times its size?’
4100
I am a lover, sacrificed for ‘No!’*
My soul’s the bandstand for the drum of woe.
These threats are like that little drum next to
What my eyes have already had to view.
I’m not one of those frail ones who would end
His wayfaring due to imaginings, friend.
I’m like the Ismailis: I lack dread;*
Or like Ishmael, with no care for my head.*
From pomp and ostentation I am free—
Say ‘Come!’* He told my soul ‘Come!’ didn’t he?
4105
The Prophet said, ‘When sure of recompense
The generous one will meet all the expense.’
Whoever sees a hundredfold return
Will rush to pay first, since he wants to earn.
For this men join the marketplace to trade:
To spend when profit can be easily made;
With gold inside their purses they will sit
Waiting for more to come, for spending it.
When one sees goods more valuable than his,
His love for his own t
hen diminishes.
4110
He had stayed keen, because he hadn’t known
Any more valuable gifts than his own.
With knowledge, skills, and art it’s similar
Once one sees something that’s superior.
When there’s none better, life is loved by all;
When something better comes though, it seems small.
To small girls lifeless dolls have much more worth
Than life, until they grow up and give birth.
Your dolls are fancies and imaginings—
If you remain a child, you need such things.
4115
But when your soul leaves that for unification,
It needs no senses and imagination.
No confidant’s here to speak openly,
So I’ll stop. God knows best our harmony.