Jumped in believing that they wouldn’t burn:
They dived through love, they didn’t drag their feet,
All for the one who makes the bitter sweet.
The king’s assistants weren’t long to arrive
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To stop them—they said, ‘No one else must dive!’
That Jew turned red for he now felt ashamed,
Regret had left his bitter heart inflamed
Because he saw the people’s faith increase—
Through self-annihilation they’d found peace.
Thank God this evil plot left him disgraced,
For Satan even would have been red-faced,
What he’d rubbed on the faces of that crowd
Now covered his own face just like a cloud,
That one who tore the shirts that we all wore,
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Saw his own ripped, ours perfect as before.
How the smirk of that man who pronounced the name of Mohammad mockingly remained fixed on his face
He smirked as he read out the Prophet’s name,
Then couldn’t wipe it off, and so he came
To beg Mohammad, ‘Prophet, pardon me,
You have such grace and know Truth’s mystery;
I made fun then because I was a fool,
I should myself have met such ridicule.’
When God decides to show they’re immature
He makes men feel inclined to mock the pure,
He also hides men’s faults, preserves their name,
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By stopping them from giving others blame;
When God should wish to help he first decrees
That we must humbly beg him on our knees—
How great it is to cry for just his sake
And for a heart, through love of him, to bake!
Your tears will end with laughter—can’t you tell?
How blest are those who know this secret well:
Wherever water’s flowed some grass has grown,
Wherever tears are wept God’s mercy’s shown—
Be like the water-wheel, weep endlessly
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So that your soul can grow its greenery!
Have mercy first if tears are what you seek,
To gain God’s mercy pity all the weak!
The fire’s reproach for the king of the Jews
The king turned to the fire, ‘Short-tempered one,
What’s going on, are you not meant to burn?
What happened to your special quality?
Have your intentions changed by destiny?
Fire-worshippers you chose not to forgive
So why let those who don’t adore you live?
You’re not known for your patience, so why now
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Will you not burn—have you forgotten how?
This world deprives us of our sense of sight,
But how can fire not burn—this can’t be right!
Have spells been cast, or is it sorcery?
Is this unnatural outcome fate’s decree?’
The fire said, ‘I’ve not changed, idolater,
Come in and feel my heat, you murderer!
My nature and my essence stay the same,
As God’s own sword, I slash when he takes aim!
The Turkmen’s dogs all linger by his hut,
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Before each guest they fawn and whimper, but
If they should see a stranger pass one day,
They’ll roar like lions, and chase him away—
I’m not less than a dog in servanthood
And God controls more than the Turkmen could!’
If the fire in your nature makes you grieve
Remember that it’s only by God’s leave,
If the fire in your nature gives you bliss
The lord of faith has filled your soul with this.
When you feel sorrow beg forgiveness, friend,
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He’s sent grief as a means to a good end!
Your pain he’ll turn to joy, and equally,
If he should choose, from fetters you’ll be free.
Earth, water, wind, and fire, his faithful slaves,
Alive with him, to us seem dead as graves:
In front of God, flames always stand up straight
And writhe like lovers in a passionate state,
A spark leaps out when iron’s struck with stone,
It travels out by God’s command alone,
Don’t strike it with the stone of tyranny—
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It multiplies like men relentlessly;
Though stone and iron are the cause, you can
Attempt to look beyond them, noble man.
This cause was prompted by a prior one,
So how can men assume that it has none?
Those causes which decide what Prophets do
Are higher than these causes you can view,
Those ones can choose to make these take effect,
Or make them fruitless things we all neglect;
These causes can be grasped with just your mind,
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But only Prophets know the other kind—
What is it? Say, ‘A rope’ in Arabic,
Hung in the well so straight it seems a stick:
The water-wheel’s spin moves this rope in front,
If you can’t see this, then you’re ignorant!
Don’t say rope-like effects seen in this world
From heaven’s wheel directly have been hurled,
Don’t be a zero, round just like this wheel,
Hollow wood for the fire—discern what’s real!
The wind can clash with fire by God’s decree,
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Drunk through God’s wine which adds ferocity:
Water is gentle, fire enraged, my son,
Open your eyes, see both come from the One.
If the wind’s soul had not been taught by God
How could it tell apart the men of Aad?
Hud drew a line around his righteous men,
On reaching it the wind died down again,
But all those standing on the other side
Were flattened for wind there did not subside;
Just like Shayban the Shepherd* who would draw
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Around his flock a line all clearly saw,
So when he left on Fridays for the prayer
No wolf would ever harm the sheep in there,
While wolves dared not ignore the shepherd’s sign
No sheep would ever step across this line:
The grunts of greed from both the wolves and sheep
Were silenced by the circle of his keep.
For mystics too the wind that signals death,
Like Joseph’s scent, seems soft, refreshing breath,
And Abraham from fire felt no alarm*—
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God’s chosen prophet bonfires couldn’t harm!
The faithful can’t be burnt by fires of lust
Though it reduces men to less than dust.
On God’s command, the fierce waves in the sea
Could still tell Moses from his enemy,
When orders came the earth dragged Korah* down
Into its depths, despite his throne and crown;
Jesus’s breath made water mixed with clay*
Grow wings, become a bird and fly away!
Your praise is now hot air, but will appear
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A bird of heaven if your heart’s sincere;
Moses’s light made Sinai dance and spin,*
Becoming thus a dervish, free of sin:
Mountains can change to dervishes each day,
Moses’s body used to be mere clay!
The Jewish king ridicules, denies, and refuses to accept the advice of his own élite
The king saw all these wonders, but did naught
But mock and then deny what they all taught,
>
Advisers warned, ‘Don’t push the limit, king,
Don’t ride too far your steed of quarrelling!’
He cuffed and locked them up immediately
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And then continued with his tyranny;
At this point all the people heard a shout:
‘Stop, dog, our wrath has come to sort you out!’
A fire soared forty feet above, and then
It formed a ring and burnt all of his men:
Their origin was fire right from the start—
Back to their source they now had to depart.
That group were also born of fire, of course;
Particles track their universal source,
A fire to burn believers with foul deeds,
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This fire consumed itself like burning weeds!
His mother’s called Hawiya, which means ‘hell’,*
So she must be his everlasting cell:
A mother seeks her child each day she lives
As sources seek their own derivatives;
If water is confined inside a pond,
The wind extracts and carries it beyond,
Then sets it free by wafting drops back home
Gently, without creating waves or foam.
Likewise, it’s breath which steals men’s souls away
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From this world’s prison, bit by bit each day:
For thus, From us sweet perfumed words shall rise*
To places known alone by God, the Wise;
Our breaths are granted leave selectively,
Gifts for the realm of His eternity,
Rewards for good speech come down to us then
Twice over, mercy from God to good men.
Then He entrusts us to exemplars, so
His servants can receive what such men know—
These breaths ascend and grace comes down from there,
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May you not cease from doing your own share!
Let’s speak in Persian: this attraction’s pull
Is from the source of all things spiritual;
The eyes of every group look to that side
Where inner cravings might be satisfied,
For each one seeks another of its kind—
The part pines for the whole you’ll always find;
But maybe it can join another sort,
Becoming one of them when they consort?
Water and bread with us you can’t compare
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But, once they’re eaten, turn to flesh in there,
Water and bread don’t look compatible,
The end-result shows that it’s possible.
So if it’s something different that you like
It must at least in some way be alike;
Things that are similar only can be lent,
A loan is never something permanent:
A hunter’s whistle sounds just like a bird
To capture those deceived by what they’ve heard!
Sea vapour can mislead all men who thirst,
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For water they mistake its form at first;
The penniless are pleased to find false gold,
But in the mint its shameful truth is told.
Don’t let false gold divert you straight to hell
Or fickle fancies lead you down a well,
Look up this tale in Kalila and Dimna*
And find the page to which this part is similar:
Explanation of trust in God: the lion’s prey tell it to stop self-exertion
Once in a valley all the beasts ran scared:
A lion preyed on them and none were spared.
It used to hide, then pounce and seize its prey—
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That’s why they couldn’t face another day;
Once, with the lion they agreed a deal:
‘Each day we’ll satisfy you with a meal,
But you must not attack us any more!
This means our grass won’t taste bad like before.’
The lion answers its prey and explains the benefit of exerting oneself
The lion said, ‘Alright, if you’re sincere,
But I know every trick, let that be clear!
Men’s schemes have ruined me, I’ve made mistakes,
Been bitten by men’s scorpions and their snakes.’
One’s carnal soul that’s hidden from our sight
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Is worse than them in scheming and in spite,
‘Believers are not stung,’ when I first heard
I followed with my heart the Prophet’s word.
The lion’s prey prefer full trust in fate to exerting oneself
The beasts of prey said, ‘Sage who clearly sees,
Precautions can’t prevent what God decrees,
To play safe just means extra bother too—
The Masnavi, Book One: Bk. 1 (Oxford World's Classics) Page 12
