The Masnavi, Book One: Bk. 1 (Oxford World's Classics)
Page 14
Like when He taught the silkworm how to spin,
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An earthworm wouldn’t know where to begin!
And Adam learned such truths from God that fire
Blazed up to heaven as a massive pyre,
But the good name of angels was wiped out
By that blind one, who God’s own word would doubt:*
Satan, ascetic for millennia, then
Was muzzled and would not be freed again,
So he could not drink wisdom’s milk at all,
Nor walk around God’s heavenly castle’s hall.
Physical senses are like muzzles too
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That keep the milk of mystic truth from you;
A jewel has dropped in your heart’s deep core,
Which neither seas nor heaven knew before,
So why still worship form, an empty shape—
Your soulless spirit must learn to escape!
If humans could be men through form and name
The Prophet and Bu Jahl would be the same:
Paintings can look like men, but still we doubt
When we look closely—something’s been left out:
Its form is perfect, but it lacks a soul—
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Go, seek out that rare jewel—that’s your goal!
The lions bowed their heads at what God gave
The dog of the Companions of the Cave:*
Despite its ugly form it reached the height
Of animal perfection through God’s light.
The author’s pen will not record your looks—
‘Learnèd’ and ‘just’ instead they write in books:
Such qualities are spiritual and real,
Not things you can locate, observe, and feel;
Rays strike your frame from God’s unknown domain,
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The Lord’s divine sun heaven can’t contain.
An account of the hare’s knowledge and an explanation of the virtue and benefits of knowledge
This discourse has no end—let’s leave it there
And listen to the story of the hare,
Sell those dumb ears and buy some better ones
For donkey’s ears are just for simpletons!*
Witness the hare outfox the lion with tricks,
Come, learn about the plot he tried to fix!
In Solomon’s realm knowledge was the goal,
This world’s material, knowledge for the soul,
Knowledge is what makes Man magnificent
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While other creatures are all impotent:
Lions and leopards turn to mice through fear
And crocodiles turn pale when he comes near,
Angels and demons run out to the shores,
All seek a hiding-place or bolt their doors;
So Man has very many hidden foes,
A cautious man is one with sense, who knows:
All kinds of creatures hidden from our sight
Attempt to strike your heart with all their might.
If you should ever wash down by the stream
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A thorn inside is bound to make you scream,
Although it’s hidden down below, beware!
Once you are pricked you’ll know for sure it’s there!
Some thorns inspire, some tempt you from your course,
They come from thousands, not a single source,
Wait till your outward senses have evolved
To see them all, and find your problems solved—
You’ll see then just whom you have failed to heed
And whom you’ve judged as qualified to lead.
The other animals seek from the hare the secret of his thoughts
The other beasts then said, ‘Quick-thinking hare,
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What is it you perceive of our affair?
You’ve dealt with king-size problems, so relate
What you conclude about our present state!’
Conferral aids perception, helps one learn,
Like minds can help their fellows to discern:
The Prophet said, ‘Consult them, counsellor,
And trust the ones with whom you must confer!’
The hare withholds that secret from them
The hare said, ‘Every secret can’t be shown,
Dice bring up odds then evens when they’re thrown:
To clean a mirror first you’ll want to blow
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But steam will quickly dull the mirror’s glow.’
Keep your lips sealed, don’t mention, as a rule,
Your path, your wealth, and your religious school,
For these three can attract so many foes,
Each one will wait to catch you once he knows—
Don’t even tell a few, have you not read:
‘All secrets shared by more than two are spread’?
Tie up two birds together and you’ll see
That they stay grounded, trapped, in agony,
They’re actually conferring, though they’re bound,
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With metaphors to fool all those around.
The Prophet gave exclusive teachings too,
Answering his men though they then had no clue;
To cloak his words he’d use a parable
So foes could not grasp what was valuable,
And he extracted answers from each foe
While from his questions none of them would know!
The story of the hare’s plot
The hare delayed his journey for a while,
Then started to complete that final mile,
That lion slew foes, and the hare was late,
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So he would beat the ground and roar, irate:
‘I knew those wretched beasts were bound to break
Their promises—their contract was a fake!
They’ve tripped me up so cruelly with deceit,
How many times will fate’s tricks thus repeat!’
All feeble-minded princes feel despair
When they can’t see what’s happening out there:
The road looks smooth, but traps are set below,
When they lack meaning, names are just for show,
Both words and names are hidden pitfalls too:
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Flattery is sand which saps all life from you.
The sand which gushes water is so rare,
You’ll have to search for that kind everywhere!
The man of God is like that type of sand;
Fleeing himself he grabs God’s helping hand,
Faith’s waters flow from him relentlessly,
Reviving seekers with love’s gifts for free.
But other men are like the driest sand,
They sap all life from you, please understand:
Seek wisdom from the sage now, if you can,
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Gain knowledge and new vision from this man!
Seek wisdom, and then you’ll become its source,
Needless, safe from what drives men from their course;
The student’s tablet turns to one ‘preserved’,*
When intellect from spirit grace is served:
At first his intellect would lead the way
But like a student now it must obey,
The intellect repeats what Gabriel said:
‘Prophet, I’ll burn if I should move ahead!
But you can still proceed towards the goal,
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I’ve reached my limit, Sultan of the Soul!’*
Each heedless and impatient, low ingrate
Complains that he must always follow fate,
Excuses like from those who feign being ill—
They’ll suffer from a sickness that can kill:
‘Saying you’re sick in jest’, the Prophet said
‘Will bring an illness that will leave you dead!’
Fate ties up broken bones to heal the p
ain
And joins together every broken vein:
You haven’t any broken bones—we know!
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So who’re you fooling with your bandaged toe?
One suffered so much striving on this course
And so Boraq was sent down as his horse;
He was now borne, for faith’s demands he’d faced,
He followed orders first, then was embraced,
Before he’d have to meet the king’s demands
But now the army follows his commands,
Stars also used to influence him then
But now he rules the stars just like his men,
If you have problems in perceiving it
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You’ll also doubt the fact the moon was split,*
Revive your faith, but not just with your tongue,
Secretly to your lusts why have you clung?
When lusts are fresh, faith can’t be any more,
Lust is the very key that locks the door!
Now you are judging God’s inviolate word—
Examine your own soul, not truths you’ve heard!
Since you read through desire the Holy Verse
You make its meaning wretched and perverse!
On the shallow interpretation of the fly
A fly in donkey’s urine, perched on straw,
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Just like a boatman gazing at the shore,
Said, ‘Straw and urine are my boat and sea,
I’ve contemplated this fact recently:
I’m in the sea, the captain of my boat,
Following maps and methods learned by rote.’
In urine it would steer its straw-made raft
As if in boundless seas, for it was daft:
It thought a single drop could stretch so far
Unable to observe things as they are,
Its world stretched out as far it could view,
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Small eyes count as a sea a drop or two!
Narrow interpreters are like this fly,
With straw and urine they all falsify,
If you stop reading from your own small view,
The phoenix will grant kingdoms then to you!
Still, those who’ve worked this out aren’t really flies,
Spirits don’t correspond to body-size:
The lion roars loudly because the hare arrives late
Like that brave hare the lion had thought tame
Whose soul was not restricted by his frame.
The lion roared, ‘Through my own ears my foes
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Have blinded me: they’ve dealt such vicious blows!
I’ve been bound by those fatalists’ vile plots,
With wooden weapons too they’ve taken shots!
No longer will I listen to their word,
They’re screams that from the ghouls too can be heard!
Just tear them up, O heart, don’t be led on,
And skin them for they’ve nothing once that’s gone!’
What’s skin? The specious words which lead astray!
Like ripples on the tide they fade away.
The meaning’s flesh, while speech is just the shell—
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Like form in contrast to the soul as well.
The rotten kernels can’t be seen through skin,
Nor good ones, for skin hides its pride within.
When water is the pad and wind the pen
The words you write will soon be gone again,
They’re etched on waves; if you seek constancy
You’ll be dissatisfied by what you see!
Renounce lust’s breath, which fills you to the brim,
And wind will bring you messages from Him.
God’s messages are always sweet and pure
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Because throughout they always will endure:
All rulers’ glories and their sermon-praise*
Must pass, but not the prophets’ perfect ways,
While pomp of kings comes from their own desire
By God the prophets are admitted higher,
The names of kings are scraped off coins in days
But Ahmad’s name no coiner can erase!
His name contains the whole prophetic line
The way that ten includes one through to nine.
Further explanation of the hare’s stratagem
His journey to the lion he delayed
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In order to rehearse the plan he’d made;
After a while the hare then headed near
To whisper something in the lion’s ear.
What worlds the strength of gnosis lets you see,
More vast than oceans filled with purity!
Our forms traverse this lovely ocean fast
Like cups which on its surface have been cast;
Until they’re full like tubs they float on top