The Masnavi, Book One: Bk. 1 (Oxford World's Classics)
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Have trust in destiny, that’s best for you!
Don’t wave your fist at fate and shake your head
In case fate picks a fight with you instead!
With God’s decree be dead just like a pawn,
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Protected from the Lord of every dawn.’*
The lion prefers exertion of effort to trust in fate
The lion said, ‘If trust will guide, okay,
But effort also is the Prophet’s way:
For once Mohammad firmly clarified:
“Trust God, but still make sure your camel’s tied!”
God loves the one who earns, so I urge you:
Trust God but don’t forget you must act too!’
The lion’s prey prefer trust in God over exerting oneself
They said, ‘But trying to earn means you’re weak,
Birds say such bites fill no more than one’s beak,
And earning can’t surpass full trust in fate,
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Complete surrender to the Lord’s dictate.’
Many fled problems, but found more despair:
Don’t run from snakes straight to a dragon’s lair!
A man’s scheme backfired with his first real shot,
It seemed the food of life, but made him rot,
He locked the door, but with his foe inside!
Such was the plot that Pharaoh once had tried:
A hundred thousand babies he had slain,
But let the one sought in his home remain!
Our vision has such flaws, to end your plight
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Annihilate your vision in God’s sight:
His sight for ours—what a terrific swap!
With His sight your fulfilment will not stop;
Until a child has learned to walk he must
Ride father’s shoulders, placing there his trust,
If he impatiently sets off alone
He’ll end up wretched, bruised, and on his own;
Men’s souls, without a hand or foot, could be
Seen flying through the realms of purity,
But when God told them, ‘Go down* in your cage!’
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They were entrapped again by lust and rage.
We’re children of the Lord who want love’s milk,
Men are God’s family, though not of His ilk,
If He can drop the rain down on your head
Through mercy He can also bring you bread!
The lion prefers exerting oneself over trust
The lion said, ‘But God has caused to rise
A ladder right before our very eyes;
We must climb rung by rung up to the top—
It’s selfish to resign to fate and stop:
When you have feet, why make out that you’re lame?
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When you’ve a pair of hands why do the same?’
If a king puts a spade in his slave’s hand
Without a word he’s given his command:
Think of your hands the same as that slave’s spade—
Mere thought of action means his judgement’s made:
Act on His signs with heart, and be sincere,
And then their truths before you shall appear;
He’ll give you hints of secrets that he masks,
Lift off your burden, give you other tasks—
If you consent, then you’ll be carried through,
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If you accept, you’ll be accepted too,
Become His spokesman—follow His command:
The union that you seek you’ll reach as planned.
Exertion’s thanking God for strength to act
While fatalism spurns it—that’s a fact!
Through giving thanks our means to act increase,
Through fatalism grace from Him will cease:
Don’t doze while travelling, for if you should sleep
You’ll miss His gate and court, and then you’ll weep!
Don’t sleep, you lazy brat, so heedlessly,
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Except beneath His own fruit-laden tree,
So when the wind should make the branches sway
Some fruit will fall to help you on your way!
Sleeping near highwaymen so trustfully
How can you ever feel security?
Don’t turn your nose up at His signals, brat,
Spoilt women who believe they’re men do that!
The little sense you have will not remain:
A head is just a tail without a brain!
For such ingratitude is mean and low
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And leads you to the fiery depths below—
Trust God, but also act and not just wait:
First sow your seeds before you count on fate!
The lion’s prey say again that trust is better than exertion
The animals made a hullabaloo:
‘The greedy who have “sown” their deeds like you,
A thousand men and women who have tried,
From fortune then why were they all denied?’
For countless centuries from creation’s start,
Like dragons who have spread their jaws apart
These clever people planned such schemes at will
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Which lift up mountains from their base, but still
God has described their schemes as disapproved:
He’s warned: the tops of mountains might be moved.*
Apart from that which had been pre-ordained
From all their scheming nothing has remained,
They fell from grace and lost the power to act
While God’s decrees have all remained intact—
Don’t think that earning’s more than just a name,
Or that exertion’s more than just a game!
How Azrael once stared at a man who then fled to Solomon’s palace; the demonstration of the superiority of trust over exertion, the latter being of relatively little value
A noble man once barged in through the crowd
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In Solomon’s famed court, and cried aloud;
His face was white with fear, his lips were blue.
Solomon asked, ‘Friend, what is wrong with you?’
‘It’s Azrael—he gave me such a stare
That showed more rage than any man could bear!’
Solomon said, ‘Whatever you want, just ask!’
He pleaded, ‘Please assign the wind this task:
To transfer me to India with its breath
So, over there, I might escape my death.’
People will run away from deprivation
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To be devoured by greed and expectation;
His fright was like the fear of feeling need,
His flight to India represents his greed.
Solomon told the wind to make this trip,
To take this man to India’s southern tip.
The next day at exactly the same time
He questioned Azrael right at the chime:
‘Angel of death, did you drive that good man
From home and family—was that your plan?’
He answered, ‘Now you know I wouldn’t lie,
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I just looked on amazed as he strolled by,
For God had said today he would be dead
Not over here, but India’s tip instead—
Even with wings to take him through the air
I thought he was too far to die down there!’
All of the world’s affairs are planned this way,
Open your eyes to see this clear as day!
Whom shall we leave? Ourselves? Impossible!
To flee from God? That’s simply laughable!
The lion again claims exertion to be superior to trust, and explains the advantages of exertion
The lion said, ‘That’s true, but don’t forget
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The works of prophets and believers
yet.’
All their exertions God himself made good,
Like all the trials and torture they withstood,
Their plans succeeded—take that as a sign!
What issues from a fine man must be fine.
Heavenly birds they captured with their traps
New virtues made of their own handicaps—
So strive your utmost on the mystic way
Just like the prophets and the saints, don’t stray!
For striving hard does not mean fighting fate
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Since fate itself has served this on our plate—
Call me an infidel if men lose out
By trying to be faithful and devout!
Your head’s not broken—treatment’s not required,
Just strive a bit, then rest like those retired!
Those after this world seek a rotten place
But seeking what’s beyond is no disgrace;
All schemes to gain wealth here fail miserably
But schemes to flee this world taste victory,
So dig a tunnel to escape your cell,
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Don’t block it up, or you’ll be stuck in hell:
This world’s a prison, we’re locked up inside,
To free yourself dig all the way outside!
What is this world? Being heedless of the Lord,
Not women and those precious goods you hoard!
But wealth you hold for your religion’s health
Is good: the Prophet called it ‘righteous wealth!’
Water that’s poured inside will sink the boat
While water underneath keeps it afloat.
Driving wealth from his heart to keep it pure
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King Solomon preferred the title ‘Poor’:
That sealed jar in the stormy sea out there
Floats on the waves because it’s full of air,
When you’ve the air of dervishhood inside
You’ll float above the world, and there abide;
Although the world is this man’s property
To his heart’s eye it’s worthless vanity—
So seal your heart’s mouth shut like Solomon
And fill it with divine breath from the One!
Like pain and cure, exertion’s being’s true,
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Denial of this is mere exertion too.
The establishment of the superiority of exertion over trust
So many proofs the lion would relate,
The fatalists grew tired of this debate;
The fox, the deer, the hare, the jackal too
Stopped answering back, abandoning their view;
With him they then agreed a deal, where he
Would not lose out—they gave a guarantee:
Each day a beast would come straight to his den
Without the need for him to hunt again:
Whoever drew the shortest of the straws
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Would race just like a cheetah to his jaws!
But when the hare’s turn came he screamed a lot:
‘How long must tyrants take all that we’ve got!’
The other animals blame the hare for his delay in going to the lion
They told him, ‘Many times we’ve sacrificed
Our lives to keep our pledge, and that’s sufficed.
You stubborn hare, don’t shame us any more,
Now hurry up before he starts to roar!’
The hare answers them
The hare said, ‘Friends, won’t you give me respite,
My scheme will save you from your sorry plight,
Life then will be secure for all of you,
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The same applies for all your children too:
Each prophet called on his community
In the same way to seek security,
A route beyond each could identify
As narrow as the pupil of an eye—
Their people thought them, like the pupil, small,
But who could boast their greatness—none at all!’
The other animals object to the words of the hare
‘Don’t be a donkey’s hair, now listen well,
Act like the hare you are, so all can tell!
You’re bragging to your betters, don’t ignore
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The fact we might have thought of this before;
Either you’re arrogant, or it’s our fate,
How can your speech fit someone in your state?’
The hare’s answer to the other animals
He said, ‘My friends, by God I’ve been inspired,
A weakling’s learned strong views, that’s what’s transpired.’
God taught the bee a skill that’s something more
Than what he taught the lion and the boar:
The bee can make a moist, sweet honeycomb,
God’s opened up to it His wisdom’s home,