The Masnavi, Book Three Page 13
Adam and Eve too—do you even know
Where they were when God strung His order’s bow?
This discourse falls short still, and is deficient;
The Speech of God alone can be sufficient.
You stumble when one speaks to you from there,
And if they don’t, that’s your loss—feel despair!
And when such speech is uttered figuratively,
You cling onto the form still stubbornly:
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You’re rooted to the earth like grass, and though
You nod your head to wind, you still don’t know.
You lack the legs with which to move away
Or pull your own feet from the mud today.
How will you pull your feet out? Your life too
Is so entrenched in mud—it’s hard for you.
When you gain life from God, you’ll feel no need,
And, traveller, you will rapidly proceed,
For when a baby leaves its nurse, it then
Eats solid food and won’t seek hers again.
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Like seeds, you’re tied to earth’s milk—break apart
And seek true nourishment that’s for the heart.
Drink words of wisdom, though they have been veiled
For you who can’t receive the light unveiled,
So that, O soul, you can at least have sight
Eventually of the unveiled, pure light.
And travel like a star up in the heavens,
Beyond them too, with God, free from conditions.
That’s how you came to being originally
From non-existence—you came drunkenly.
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You don’t recall the pathways by which you
Arrived, but I’ll recite a telling clue.
Lose your mind to be mindful! I will tell,
But close your ears, so you can listen well.
No, you’re still in an undeveloped state:
You live in spring—for summer you must wait.
Noble ones, this world’s like a tree, and we
Are still unripe fruits hanging from that tree.
Unripe fruits cling fast to the branch, because
They’re unfit for the palace with their flaws.
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But when they ripen and taste sweet to all,
Their hold will weaken and they’ll easily fall.
When mouths taste sweetness due to special grace,
The world becomes an unattractive place.
Strictness and bigotry are immature—
A foetus drinks blood; men deem it impure.
There’s more—I’ll let the Holy Spirit say
It to you all without my help one day.
No, no one else will say it to your ear,
But you: when you are I there’s just one here,
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Like when you fall asleep and quickly go
From your self to the higher self you know:
You listen to yourself and yet you keep
Sensing someone address you in your sleep—
You’re not a single ‘you’, my good companion:
You are the heavens too and the deep ocean.
Your higher self is complex and profound,
The Red Sea in which lower selves are drowned.*
And sleep and wakefulness can’t limit you—
Speak no more! God knows best about what’s true.
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Stop speaking, so that you’ll hear voices say
What words and explanations can’t convey.
Stop speaking, so from sunshine you will hear
What books and sermons never can make clear.
Stop speaking, so the spirit speaks for you—
Don’t swim on Noah’s ark as your foes do,
Like Canaan who did that and let all know:
‘I don’t want Noah’s ark—he is my foe.’
‘Sit in your father’s ark!’ Noah implored,
‘Don’t get drowned in the flood, wretch—climb on board!’
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He answered, ‘I know how to swim to shores.
I’ve lit a different candle, too, from yours.’
‘This is the flood of suffering!’ Noah cried,
‘Swimming and your limbs’ strength are nullified.
Be silent! It’s the wind of wrath and woe—
No candle now but God’s is left to glow.’
He said, ‘No, to that mountain I will flee
From harm; that will protect a man like me.’
‘Don’t go! The mountain’s now like straw—beware!
Only those whom He loves are safe up there.’
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He said, ‘When have I listened to your counsel
That you should hope that I’ll now join your circle?
I’ve never liked the things that you have said
And in the two worlds I don’t need your aid.’
‘It’s not the time for such disdain, my son!
God has no family nor a partner—none.
You’re acting precious, and it’s dangerous now;
In this court whose disdain counts anyhow?
Neither born nor begetting,* He’s eternal;
He has no father, nor a child, nor uncle,
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So how can He endure a child’s disdain,
Or from a father? Have I made it plain?
“Don’t have disdain; I’m not born.” God has said,
“I don’t beget—don’t strut with a proud head.
I’m not a husband; there’s no lust in me—
Woman stop flirting with me fruitlessly.
Bondage, humility, and servanthood
Alone have worth. Have you not understood?”’
Canaan said, ‘Father, you’ve said this to me
So often I fear it’s insanity.
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So many times you’ve told the people—why?
You only get a negative reply.
Your tiresome words won’t reach my ears—I’ve grown
So wise and strong I’ve made it on my own.’
‘What harm can there be?’ Noah said, ‘Now to
Heed what your father is advising you?’
He thus kept giving this considerate counsel
While his son Canaan gave back harsh refusal.
He did not tire from trying to help his son,
But not one word got through to him, not one.
1330
A powerful wave surged and struck Canaan’s head
As they continued, leaving him for dead.
‘Forbearing king!’ Noah began to pray,
‘My ass died; your flood swept its load away.
So many times before you promised me:
“You will escape it with your family.”
I pinned my hopes on you and what you’d say—
Why did your flood now snatch my coat away?’
God said, ‘He was not from your family—
You’re white but he was blue—could you not see?
1335
When your tooth starts to suffer from decay,
It’s not a tooth then, so throw it away!
Get rid of what was once yours, so you’ll not
See your whole body then begin to rot.’
Noah said, ‘From what’s different I am quit;
He who dies through you isn’t separate.
You know that You’re the one whom I adore
And need as pasture needs the rain to pour.
I live through You and do so joyfully,
Nurtured without an intermediary,
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Neither united nor apart—perfection
Without cause, qualities, or any question.
We’re fishes while You are Life’s Wondrous Sea,
And we live through Your generosity.
In thought’s cramped corner you can’t be contained
And by cause and effect you are not cha
ined.
Before and after this flood has passed through,
The One to Whom we call is always You.
I spoke with You, not them, for You’re the one
Who gave the gift of speech to everyone.
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I’m like the lover who all day and night
Keeps his beloved’s camp’s trace in his sight:
As if he’s facing ruins he sits there—
To whom does he sing then? Is he aware?
For sending us the flood, praise be to You,
And for removing veils of ruins too,
Because they were so awful—no reply
Came from them, nor the echo of a cry.
I want such ruins now to answer me though,
The way a mountain can receive an echo,
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So I might hear Your name repeatedly,
Your name, which soothes all souls, has smitten me.
As every Prophet holds a mountain dear,
So that Your name repeatedly he’ll hear.
Low mountains are like stony ground—no house
Stands there for us—it’s fit for just a mouse.
I speak but in response there’s no caress;
The breath of my own speech stays echoless.
Better to join it with the earth instead—
It’s no close friend, fit just for you to tread.’
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God said, ‘Noah, for you I’ll gather round
All men, and raise them from graves underground.
For Canaan’s sake I won’t let your heart shatter;
Rather I’ll tell you of all things that matter.’
Noah said, ‘No, with you I am content;
If You should drown me too, I would consent.
Go on and drown me, if that’s Your decree,
Which is so dear—I’ll bear it happily.
I won’t watch anyone, but if I do
It’s as a pretext so I can watch You.
1360
A lover of Your craftsmanship, my head
Is not turned by the things You’ve made instead.’
The lover of God’s craftsmanship earns splendour;
His craftwork’s lover is an unbeliever.
Reconciliation between these following two traditions: ‘To be satisfied with infidelity is itself an act of infidelity’ and ‘Whoever is not satisfied with my decree should seek a different lord’
A man asked me this question yesterday
Because he liked to start disputes this way:
‘The Prophet said once, “Being satisfied
With unbelief is unbelief.” Our pride
Said also, “Muslims have to be content
With His ordainment, knowing it’s been sent.”
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God wills the unbelief, claims one tradition;
If I’m content, though, that is a rebellion.
And if I’m not content, that has flaws too—
To reconcile these two, what can I do?’
‘The infidelity is what’s ordained,
Not the ordainment by Him,’ I maintained.
‘So tell apart what is ordained from fate
Itself—your problems then will dissipate.’
I am content with infidelity,
Not since it’s bad, but since it’s God’s decree.
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It isn’t unbelief that it’s decreed;
Don’t call God infidel—you must take heed!
Unbelief’s ignorance, ordainment’s knowing;
Bestowing does not mean the same as owing.
The writing’s ugly, but don’t blame the writer.
He’s shown your ugliness, but He is brighter.
The artist’s skill lets him display to you
Both beautiful things and the ugly too.
If I extend the discourse now at hand,
Cause questions and their answers to expand,
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Love’s wisdom’s savour will leave me today
And from my service I will quickly stray.
Parable explaining that mystical bewilderment prevents investigation and thought
A greying man once hurried to a barber
Who was accomplished, standing by his mirror.
He said, ‘Remove the white hairs from my beard,
For I’ve picked a new wife and need them cleared.’
The barber shaved the whole beard off, and said:
‘I’m busy. You pluck white hairs out instead!’
Mystical pain has no use or concern
For mere hair-splitting’s method how to learn.
1380
A man slapped hard another man one night;
The other man charged at him for a fight.
The one who slapped said, ‘I’ve a question. Please
Answer it first, then slap me as you please.
I slapped your neck with a loud crack, so I
Now have a question—would you clarify
Whether this cracking sound came from my hand
Or from your neck? Please help me understand.’
The other said, ‘I feel so many aches
I lack the time that contemplation takes.
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You who lack pain can contemplate, but we
Who feel don’t waste time on frivolity.’
A story
So few Companions memorized the whole
Qur’an, though each had fervour in his soul.
When kernels grow to full maturity,
Their minds will thin and then split suddenly.
The walnut, almond, and pistachio shells
And their rinds too shrink as each kernel swells:
The rinds decreased as wisdom’s kernel grew,
And the Beloved burns up lovers too.
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Seeking’s the opposite of being sought.
Through God’s light rays, the Prophet burned to nought.
Displaying attributes of the Eternal
Burns up the mantle of each thing that’s temporal.
When someone learnt a quarter of God’s Book,
Companions said, ‘A great one’s with us. Look!’
Combining form with such deep meaning can
Be only managed by a mighty man.
While drunk how can you mind your manners too?
That would be too amazing to be true.
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When you’re without need, to show neediness
Is joining opposites like strip and dress.
The walking-stick is loved by each blind man,
Though he’s a coffer housing the Qur’an.
One said, ‘The blind are coffers filled with text
From the Qur’an and warning of what’s next.’
A coffer filled with the Qur’an’s superior
To one that’s empty still in its interior.
But one that’s emptied is superior to
One filled with dirty mice and serpents too,
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For when one gains the union that is sought,
To one the go-between is then worth naught.
Since you have reached your goal, O man of grace,
Now seeking knowledge would be a disgrace;
Now that you’ve reached the rooftop of the sky,
What is the point of seeking ladders? Why
Apart from to help others with instruction?
Once finished, then the path has no more function.
It’s stupid to keep trying to rub clean
A mirror that’s the clearest that there’s been.
1405
While sitting with the sultan don’t remember
And seek his messenger or his old letter.
Story about the preoccupation of a lover with reading and perusing a love letter in the presence of his beloved, to which his displeased beloved responds: ‘Seeking the proof in the presence of that which it is proving is blameworthy, as is preoccupation with knowledge a
fter reaching the object of knowledge
With his own sweetheart sitting opposite,
A man took out a letter and read it,
A letter full of verses and laudations,
Laments, entreaties, and long supplications.
His sweetheart said, ‘If this is for my sake,
Doing this while in union’s a mistake:
I’m present with you, yet you read a letter.
That’s not sign of a lover, now or ever.’
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He said, ‘Although you’re present now with me,
I still don’t feel fulfilled yet properly.
The things that I’d perceived in you last year
Have gone, although I’m now in union here.
I’ve drunk pure water from this spring, and I
Have with it now refreshed my heart and eye.