Magic and miracles some view the same
For both to them are just a clever game:
Magicians challenged Moses, friend of God,*
Producing their own versions of his rod—
The difference was vast, like night and day,
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Their deeds contrasted, they were poles away!
Their actions earned them curses from the Lord,
While Moses earned more grace as his reward.
Such unbelievers are just apes, no more,
Their lying breasts are rotten to the core!
Whatever men should do, apes imitate,
They try to copy every human trait,
Thinking, ‘We’ve copied them so faithfully.’
Deluded, apes can’t sense the way we see.
His actions were from God, theirs just a game,
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Those who keep picking fights should all feel shame!
Although the hypocrites attend the prayer,
It’s just so they can start a quarrel there,
In fasting, prayer, the pilgrimage, and alms,
These hypocrites make good men take up arms!
Believers will be led to victory,
While hypocrites will pay eternally!
Although it’s the same game these two groups play,
They’re chalk and cheese, like those from Merv and Reyy.*
Each one where he belongs at last you’ll find,
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Since each fulfils the name he’s been assigned,
If called believer, he’ll end up much higher;
Those labelled hypocrite just feed the fire!
His essence earns the first loved one as name,
His failings give the next, the loathed, all blame.
The name ‘believer’ is itself worth naught,
It only signifies a person’s thought;
Call someone hypocrite and he’ll protest
As if a scorpion’s stung him in his chest,
‘If this vile name has not emerged from hell,
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Why then does it possess its taste and smell?’
The word’s referent letters don’t decide—
Don’t blame the bowl for what’s contained inside!
The bowl’s mere form, its content meaning, look!
All meaning’s from the Mother of the Book: *
The planet’s different seas aren’t joined as one,
God’s fixed a gap they don’t encroach upon,*
Their origin however’s still the same,
Transcend them all and make their source your aim!
To check that it’s not counterfeit you’ll need
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A touchstone to be sure it’s gold indeed:
If God should place a touchstone in your heart
You’ll then tell doubt and certainty apart,
Like when a hair gets in your mouth you know
To spit it out before it slips below,
Among a hundred morsels just one hair,
Each man can sense it if he should take care!
These senses are the ladders of this world,
From heaven separate ladders God has hurled.
Physicians treat and keep your body well
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But just God’s friend can save your soul from hell,
Good health’s equated with a strong physique,
A healthy soul will make your body weak;
Bodies are wrecked along the mystic way,
For their destruction treasure’s brought as pay:
For gold your house is knocked down to the ground
To be rebuilt, foundations deep and sound,
He cuts off water, drains the river bed,
With purest water fills it up instead;
He flays your skin to find the blade inside,
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Fresh skin will heal the wound, however wide;
He’ll raze the castles of those faithless powers
But then rebuild them with a thousand towers.
Who can discern when acts seem arbitrary?
What I’ve just said shows that it’s necessary:
Sometimes like this, and then the opposite,
God’s way bewilders those who’re travelling it,
Not the false ways of those whose backs are turned,
But the amazement that love’s drunks have learned:
One faces the beloved constantly,
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The other chooses just himself to see—
Observe which way the people choose to turn,
While serving others learn how to discern!
The devils make themselves look just like men—
Don’t shake hands with just anyone again:
The hunter blows a whistle near his prey,
Deceiving thus the bird, who’s led astray,
It hears what sounds like calling from a friend
And lands inside his trap to meet its end;
A wretch may steal the words of dervishes
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To chant tall tales to simple audiences:
The actions of the genuine spread light,
While false pretenders just distort what’s right.
Low beggars with stuffed dolls they feel no shame:
‘Ahmad’, some claimed, was Bu Mosaylem’s* name:
He was called ‘liar’ soon, and entered hell,
While Ahmad gave the world those who know well?*
The wine of love’s flask smells of musk that’s pure,
While other wines all stink of foul manure!
The story about the Jewish king who out of fanaticism would kill Christians
There once was an oppressive Jewish king,
325
A foe of Jesus and his following
During the period of his prophethood,
Succeeding Moses, as we’ve understood—
The cross-eyed king saw them as miles apart
Although as prophets they were one at heart:
A teacher told a cross-eyed boy one day,
‘Go fetch for me a bottle straight away!’
The boy returned, ‘Which bottle did you mean
Of that exactly matching pair I’ve seen?’
The teacher said, ‘There’s only one you fool!
330
Have you not learned to add up yet at school?’
The boy protested, ‘Sir, don’t laugh at me!’
The teacher said, ‘Try smashing one to see!’
A single bottle looked to him like two
But when one broke, both vanished from his view!
When he smashed one the other broke as well,
Desire can make you cross-eyed in its spell!
And lust and rage don’t just affect your sight,
They agitate your soul, set it alight,
Virtue’s forgotten when your heart feels lust,
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Veils block your heart and eyes like layers of dust,
So when a judge lets bribery win his heart
He can’t tell guilt and innocence apart.
This king became so cross-eyed through his hate,
The Christians prayed, ‘Save us from his dictate!’
He slew believers, claimed it was correct,
Said, ‘Moses’s faith I have to protect!’
The vizier informs the king of his plot
He had an infidel vizier, so sly
That he convinced men even when he’d lie!
He said, ‘The Christians want to save their lives,
340
They see that he who hides his faith survives—
Don’t round them up, that method won’t work well,
You can’t tell people’s faith just by their smell!
They’ve hidden their beliefs inside a sheath,
What smiles at you opposes you beneath.’
The king said, ‘Tell me what you recommend
To wipe out those who p
lay-act and pretend,
To rid this world of every Christian soul,
Hidden or in the open—that’s my goal!’
He said, ‘Cut off my nose and hands, dear king,
345
And split my lip to show my suffering,
Then hang me from the gallows publicly
Till someone comes to intercede for me,
Set all this up inside the market square
So people flock to see from everywhere,
Then banish me to exile far away
And I’ll make mischief for them from that day!
How the vizier deceives the Christians
I’ll say, “I’ve been a Christian in disguise—
All-knowing God will prove these are not lies:
When he found out my true identity
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That bigot of a king came after me!
To keep my faith a secret from that king
I’d mimic his own brand of worshipping,
But when he did get wind of my belief
Of wicked crimes he charged me like a thief,
Saying, “Your words are needles in my spine!
A window lies between your heart and mine
Through which upon your secrets I can spy,
And so your false claims I’ll no longer buy.”
If Jesus had not saved me from that Jew
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He would have butchered me, I swear to you,
For Christ I’d therefore sacrifice my head
And pay back all my debts before I’m dead;
Though I would gladly die for our Lord’s sake,
I’ve studied, so it would be a mistake—
To risk the future of our faith’s not right
Though under heathens we have such a fight!
Thanks be to God and Jesus, this I pray,
That I’ve become a guide to lead the way,
That I’ve escaped the cruel, oppressive Jews
360
To wear my Christian girdle when I choose!
This is the epoch of our Holy Lord,
Hear now his secrets, live in full accord!”’
The king did what was needed to destroy
All Christian families with their hidden ploy:
He started to expel them from his land
When the vizier began to preach, as planned.
The Christians are taken in by the vizier’s plot
A thousand Christians gradually thus converged
Around his home, where they all finally merged,
He’d teach them secretly, the old and youths,
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About the gospel, prayer, and hidden truths;
Although he seemed to teach mere ordinances
He led to hidden traps his audiences:
That’s why a few Companions* would enquire
About the self’s tricks and its true desire,
‘Dear Prophet, tell us what’s its hidden goal
In worship and in purifying one’s soul?’
From the self’s piety they sought no grace
But errors in its acts they sought to trace,
Its every lie they quickly learned to see,
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To tell rose stems from sticks of celery!
Companions who knew how to scrutinize
The prophet’s sermons still would mesmerize.
The christians follow the vizier
So all the Christians gave their hearts to him
Too ready to obey another’s whim!
Submission to him they thought piety,
Imagining he was Christ’s deputy:
He was the one-eyed Antichrist within—
Please help us God, protector from all sin!
He’s set for us a hundred thousand traps
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And we’re like hungry birds in search of scraps,
Each moment caught in yet another snare
Though we be phoenixes who rule the air,
You free us, but repeatedly we fall,
Entrapped, ‘O Needless One’, for you we call:
Like bringing wheat inside a farmhouse store
But at the same time losing it once more!
Why can’t we work this out now with our brains?
A mouse keeps sneaking in to steal the grains!
This mouse has dug a hole to creep inside,
380
It’s ruined every storehouse far and wide—
Defend against the mouse first, that’s the plan,
Then come and gather all the wheat you can!
Now listen to the Prophet of Mankind:
‘No prayer’s complete without a present mind.’
Tell me, If there’s none left inside your store
Then where’s the stock of forty years and more?
Why isn’t every grain of daily prayer
The Masnavi, Book One: Bk. 1 (Oxford World's Classics) Page 7
