Persian myths, p.27
Persian Myths, page 27
“Upon that throne, in blissful state,
The long divided lovers sate,
Resplendent with seraphic light,
They held a cup with diamonds bright.”
This cup was filled with the nectar of immortality, and, quaffing its rich contents, they wandered away, hand in hand, through the long aisles of unfading flowers.
“The dreamer who this vision saw,
Demanded with becoming awe,
What sacred names the happy pair
In Irem-bowers were wont to bear.
A voice replied: ‘That sparkling moon
Is Laili still – her friend Majnun;
Deprived in your frail world of bliss,
They reap their great reward in this!’”
Zyd wakened from his wondrous dream, and, rejoicing, told the story of his glad vision. The sons of the desert took up the mystic theme, and still repeat the promise that pure and loyal love can never fail of its final reward.
“Saki! Nizami’s song is sung;
The Persian poet’s pearls are strung;
Then fill again the goblet high!
Thou wouldst not ask the reveler why
Fill to the love that changes never!
Fill to the love that lives forever!
That purified by earthly woes,
At last with bliss seraphic glows.”
Masnavi-I-Ma’navi
Jalal-uddin Rumi
Translated by E.H. Whinfield
The third period of Persian poetry, which may be called the mystic and moral age, is assigned to the thirteenth century.
It was at this time that Genghis Khan, the Tartar chief, swept like a mountain torrent over the East. His first attack was upon the countries beyond the Oxus, where the devotees of science had taken refuge during the invasion of Persia by the Arabs. Bokhara and Samarcand were then the homes of scholars and the centres of civilization. Their colleges and libraries were celebrated throughout the Orient, but during the great Tartar invasion these cities were both destroyed, being stormed and burned by the Tartar horde, while more than two hundred thousand lives were sacrificed to the cruelty of the invading host. Bagdad was also devastated, the colleges destroyed and the most valuable books in the libraries were thrown into the Tigris.
During these stormy times the courts of the descendants of the Selucidae were sought by scholars as places of refuge, some of their princes being literary men. A prince of this dynasty, by the name of Alladin Kaikubad, became somewhat celebrated in the world of letters, and during his reign Iconium became the refuge of scholars from the Asiatic nations, who felt that on the western frontiers of the continent they were more secure from the attacks of the barbarians. The brightest ornament of this court was the mystic poet and philosopher, Jalal-uddin Rumi (1207–73).
His father was the founder of a college at Iconium in Syria, but after his father’s death Jalal-uddin went to Aleppo and Damascus to continue his studies, and finally succeeded to the direction of the college. His literary fame rests upon his Masnavi I Ma’navi, a work in six volumes, which is a series of stories with moral maxims. A selection of stories from the first volume are included in this chapter.
The Prince and the Handmaid
A prince, while engaged on a hunting excursion, espied a fair maiden, and by promises of gold induced her to accompany him. After a time she fell sick, and the prince had her tended by divers physicians. As, however, they all omitted to say, “God willing, we will cure her,” their treatment was of no avail. So the prince offered prayer, and in answer thereto a physician was sent from heaven. He at once condemned his predecessors’ view of the case, and by a very skilful diagnosis, discovered that the real cause of the maiden’s illness was her love for a certain goldsmith of Samarcand. In accordance with the physician’s advice, the prince sent to Samarcand and fetched the goldsmith, and married him to the lovesick maiden, and for six months the pair lived together in the utmost harmony and happiness. At the end of that period the physician, by divine command, gave the goldsmith a poisonous draught, which caused his strength and beauty to decay, and he then lost favour with the maiden, and she was reunited to the king. This Divine command was precisely similar to God’s command to Abraham to slay his son Ishmael, and to the act of the angel in slaying the servant of Moses, and is therefore beyond human criticism.
Description of Love.
A true lover is proved such by his pain of heart;
No sickness is there like sickness of heart.
The lover’s ailment is different from all ailments;
Love is the astrolabe of God’s mysteries.
A lover may hanker after this love or that love,
But at the last he is drawn to the KING of love.
However much we describe and explain love,
When we fall in love we are ashamed of our words.
Explanation by the tongue makes most things clear,
But love unexplained is clearer.
When pen hasted to write,
On reaching the subject of love it split in twain.
When the discourse touched on the matter of love,
Pen was broken and paper torn.
In explaining it Reason sticks fast, as an ass in mire;
Naught but Love itself can explain love and lovers!
None but the sun can display the sun,
If you would see it displayed, turn not away from it.
Shadows, indeed, may indicate the sun’s presence,
But only the sun displays the light of life.
Shadows induce slumber, like evening talks,
But when the sun arises the “moon is split asunder.”
In the world there is naught so wondrous as the sun,
But the Sun of the soul sets not and has no yesterday.
Though the material sun is unique and single,
We can conceive similar suns like to it.
But the Sun of the soul, beyond this firmament,
No like thereof is seen in concrete or abstract.
Where is there room in conception for His essence,
So that similitudes of HIM should be conceivable?
Shamsu-’d-Din of Tabriz importunes Jalalu-’d-Din
to compose the Masnavi.
The sun (Shams) of Tabriz is a perfect light,
A sun, yea, one of the beams of God!
When the praise was heard of the “Sun of Tabriz,”
The sun of the fourth heaven bowed its head.
Now that I have mentioned his name, it is but right
To set forth some indications of his beneficence.
That precious Soul caught my skirt,
Smelling the perfume of the garment of Yusuf;
And said, “For the sake of our ancient friendship,
Tell forth a hint of those sweet states of ecstasy,
That earth and heaven may be rejoiced,
And also Reason and Spirit, a hundredfold.”
I said, “O thou who art far from ‘ The Friend,’
Like a sick man who has strayed from his physician,
Importune me not, for I am beside myself;
My understanding is gone, I cannot sing praises.
Whatsoever one says, whose reason is thus astray,
Let him not boast; his efforts are useless.
Whatever he says is not to the point,
And is clearly inapt and wide of the mark.
What can I say when not a nerve of mine is sensible?
Can I explain ‘The Friend’ to one to whom He is no Friend?
Verily my singing His praise were dispraise,
For ’twould prove me existent, and existence is error.
Can I describe my separation and my bleeding heart?
Nay, put off this matter till another season.”
He said, “ Feed me, for I am an hungered,
And at once, for ‘the time is a sharp sword.’
O comrade, the Sufi is ‘the son of time present.’
It is not the rule of his canon to say, ‘To-morrow.’
Can it be that thou art not a true Sufi?
Ready money is lost by giving credit.”
I said, “’Tis best to veil the secrets of ‘The Friend.’
So give good heed to the morals of these stories.
That is better than that the secrets of ‘The Friend’
Should be noised abroad in the talk of strangers.”
He said, “Without veil or covering or deception,
Speak out, and vex me not, O man of many words!
Strip off the veil and speak out, for do not I
Enter under the same coverlet as the Beloved?”
I said, “If the Beloved were exposed to outward view,
Neither wouldst thou endure, nor embrace, nor form.
Press thy suit, yet with moderation;
A blade of grass cannot, pierce a mountain.
If the sun that illumines the world
Were to draw nigher, the world would be consumed.
Close thy mouth and shut the eyes of this matter,
That, the world’s life be not made a bleeding heart.
No longer seek this peril, this bloodshed;
Hereafter impose silence on the ‘Sun of Tabriz.’”
He said, “Thy words are endless. Now tell forth
All thy story from its beginning.”
The Harper
In the time of the Khalifa ‘Omar there lived a harper, whose voice was as sweet as that of the angel Israfil, and who was in great request at all feasts. But he grew old, and his voice broke, and no one would employ him any longer. In despair he went to the burial-ground of Yathrub, and there played his harp to God, looking to Him for recompense. Having finished his melody he fell asleep, and dreamed he was in heaven. The same night a divine voice came to ‘Omar, directing him to go to the burial-ground, and relieve an old man whom he should find there. ‘Omar proceeded to the place, found the harper, and gave him money, promising him more when he should need it. The harper cast away his harp, saying that it had diverted him from God, and expressed great contrition for his past sins. ‘Omar then instructed him that his worldly journey was now over, and that he must not give way to contrition for the past, as he was now entered into the state of ecstasy and intoxication of union with God, and in this exalted state regard to past and future should be swept away. The harper acted on his instructions, and sang no more.
Apology for applying the term “Bride” to God.
Mustafa became beside himself at that sweet call,
His prayer failed on “the night of the early morning halt.”
He lifted not head from that blissful sleep,
So that his morning prayer was put off till noon.
On that, his wedding night, in presence of his bride,
His pure soul attained to kiss her hands.
Love and mistress are both veiled and hidden,
Impute it not as a fault if I call Him “Bride.”
I would have kept silence from fear of my Beloved,
If He had granted me but a moment’s respite.
But He said, “Speak on, ‘tis no fault,
‘Tis naught but the necessary result of the hidden decree,
‘Tis a fault only to him who only sees faults.
How can the Pure Hidden Spirit notice faults?”
Faults seem so to ignorant creatures,
Not in the sight of the Lord of Benignity.
Blasphemy even may be wisdom in the Creator’s si ht,
Whereas from our point of view it is grievous sin.
If one fault occur among a hundred beauties
‘Tis as one dry stick in a garden of green herbs.
Both weigh equally in the scales
For the two resemble body and soul.
Wherefore the sages have said not idly,
“The bodies of the righteous are as pure souls.”
Their words, their actions, their praises,
Are all as a pure soul without spot or blemish.
‘Omar rebukes the Harper for brooding over
and bewailing the past.
Then ‘Omar said to him, “This wailing of thine
Shows thou art still in a state of ‘sobriety.”’
Afterwards he thus urged him to quit that state
And called him out of his beggary to absorption in God:
“Sobriety savours of memory of the past;
Past and future are what veil God from our sight.
Burn up both of them with fire! How long
Wilt thou be partitioned by these segments as a reed?
So long as a reed has partitions ‘tis not privy to secrets,
Nor is it vocal in response to lip and breathing.
While circumambulating the house thou art a stranger;
When thou enterest in thou art at home.
Thou whose knowledge is ignorance of the Giver of knowledge,
Thy wailing contrition is worse than thy sin.
The road of the ‘annihilated’ is another road;
Sobriety is wrong, and a straying from that other road.
O thou who seekest to be contrite for the past,
How wilt thou be contrite for this contrition?
At one time thou adorest the music of the lute,
At another embracest wailing and weeping.”
While the “Discerner” reflected these mysteries,
The heart of the harper was emancipated.
Like a soul he was freed from weeping and rejoicing,
His old life died, and he was regenerated.
Amazement fell upon him at that moment,
For he was exalted above earth and heaven,
An uplifting of the heart surpassing all uplifting;
I cannot describe it ; if you can, say on!
Ecstasy and words beyond all ecstatic words;
Immersion in the glory of the Lord of glory!
Immersion wherefrom was no extrication,
As it were identification with the Very Ocean!
Partial Reason is as naught to Universal Reason,
If one impulse dependent on another impulse be naught;
But when that impulse moves this impulse,
The waves of that sea rise to this point;
The Man who was Tattooed
It was the custom of the men of Qazwin to have various devices tattooed upon their bodies. A certain coward went to the artist to have such a device tattooed on his back, and desired that it might be the figure of a lion. But when he felt the pricks of the needles he roared with pain, and said to the artist, “What part of the lion are you now painting?” The artist replied, “I am doing the tail.” The patient cried, “Never mind the tail; go on with another part.” The artist accordingly began in another part, but the patient again cried out and told him to try somewhere else. Wherever the artist applied his needles, the patient raised similar objections, till at last the artist dashed all his needles and pigments on the ground, and refused to proceed any further.
The Prophet’s counsels to ‘Ali to follow the direction of the Pir or Spiritual Guide, and to endure his chastisements patiently.
The Prophet said to ‘Ali, “O ‘Ali,
Thou art the Lion of God, a hero most valiant;
Yet confide not in thy lion-like valour,
But seek refuge under the palm-trees of the ‘Truth.’
Whoso takes obedience as his exemplar
Shares its proximity to the ineffable Presence.
Do thou seek to draw near to Reason; let not thy heart
Rely, like others, on thy own virtue and piety.
Come under the shadow of the Man of Reason,
Thou canst not find it in the road of the traditionists.
That man enjoys close proximity to Allah;
Turn not away from obedience to him in any wise;
For he makes the thorn a bed of roses,
And gives sight to the eyes of the blind.
His shadow on earth is as that of Mount Qaf,
His spirit is as a Simurgh soaring on high.
He lends aid to the slaves of the friends of God,
And advances to high place them who seek him.
Were I to tell his praises till the last day,
My words would not be too many nor admit of curtailment,
He is the sun of the spirit, not that of the sky,
For from his light men and angels draw life.
That sun is hidden in the form of a man,
Understand me! Allah knows the truth.
O ‘Ali, out of all forms of religious service
Choose thou the shadow of that dear friend of God!
Every man takes refuge in some form of service,
And chooses for himself some asylum;
Do thou seek refuge in the shadow of the wise man,
That thou mayest escape thy fierce secret foes.
Of all forms of service this is fittest for thee;
Thou shalt surpass all who were before thee.
Having chosen thy Director, be submissive to him,
Even as Moses submitted to the commands of Khizr;
