Inspirations

by Paulo Coelho

  ‘C’mon, get up,’ the valiant man went on, ‘it’s a cryin’ shame.’

  ‘And why a shame?’

  ‘A shame to fall asleep fully dressed, and while readin’ a book at that!’ He snuffed the guttered candles and picked up the volume that had slipped from my hand. ‘A book by—’ He opened it: ‘By Hegel. C’mon! It’s high time we drove over to Herr Severin – he’s expectin’ us for tea.’

  KAHLIL GIBRAN

  from The Prophet

  And she hailed him, saying:

  Prophet of God, in quest of the uttermost, long have you searched the distances for your ship.

  And now your ship has come, and you must needs go.

  Deep is your longing for the land of your memories and the dwelling-place of your greater desires; and our love would not bind you nor our needs hold you.

  Yet this we ask ere you leave us, that you speak to us and give us of your truth.

  And we will give it unto our children, and they unto their children, and it shall not perish.

  In your aloneness you have watched with our days, and in your wakefulness you have listened to the weeping and the laughter of our sleep.

  Now therefore disclose us to ourselves, and tell us all that has been shown you of that which is between birth and death.

  And he answered:

  People of Orphalese, of what can I speak save of that which is even now moving within your souls?

  Then said Almitra, Speak to us of Love.

  And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them. And with a great voice he said:

  When love beckons to you, follow him,

  Though his ways are hard and steep.

  And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

  Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

  And when he speaks to you believe in him,

  Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

  For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

  Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

  So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

  Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.

  He threshes you to make you naked.

  He sifts you to free your from your husks.

  He grinds you to whiteness.

  He kneads you until you are pliant;

  And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

  All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

  But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,

  Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,

  Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

  Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.

  Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;

  For love is sufficient unto love.

  When you love you should not say, ‘God is in my heart,’ but rather, ‘I am in the heart of God.’

  And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

  Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

  But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

  To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

  To know the pain of too much tenderness.

  To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

  And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

  To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

  To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;

  To return home at eventide with gratitude;

  And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

  RUMI

  from Spiritual Verses

  The Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him) asks Zayd,

  ‘How are you today, and how did you rise?’ And his reply:

  ‘I woke up a believer, O messenger of God’

  The holy Prophet said to Zayd one morning,

  ‘How do you feel this morning, my good friend?’

  He said, ‘A faithful slave.’ Again he asked him,

  ‘If your faith’s garden blossomed, where’s the sign?’

  And he replied, ‘By day I have been parched;

  by night I have not slept, from love and fever.

  And so I passed through day and night just as

  the spearhead’s tip will penetrate the shield.

  For on the other side all creeds are one;

  a hundred thousand years is like an hour.

  Eternity before and after time

  is one – the mind cannot go there inquiring.’

  He said, ‘Bring out the souvenir from travelling

  to match your understanding of these realms.’

  He said, ‘When other people see the sky,

  I see the throne and those who sit in heaven.

  Eight paradises, seven hells appear

  to me as clear as idols to the shaman.

  I recognize the creatures one by one,

  like wheat among the barley in the mill.

  The strangers from the guests of Paradise

  I see like serpents swimming among fish.’

  This time has been revealed for this assembly,

  ‘the day their faces turn to black or white’.

  However wicked was the soul before this,

  it was within the womb, concealed from people.

  ‘The damned are damned inside their mother’s womb,

  their state is known from marks upon the body.’

  The flesh – a mother – bears the infant soul;

  death is the pain and trauma of its birth.

  The souls of all who’ve gone before watch out

  to see how that exultant soul is born.

  The Ethiopians say, ‘He’s one of us.’

  The Anatolians say, ‘No, he’s too fair.’

  When born into the spirit-world of grace,

  there is no difference between white and black.

  If he is black the Ethiops take him off;

  if he’s a Greek the Greeks take him themselves.

  Unborn, it is a puzzle for the world,

  for those who know the unborn are but few.

  But surely ‘he is seeing by God’s light’;

  he has the way beneath his outer skin.

  The human seed is white and fair in substance,

  but it reflects both Greek and savage soul.

  It colours those who have ‘the fairest stature’

  or drags the other half to deepest hell.

  These words go on forever; go on back!

  Let us not miss the caravan of camels.

  ‘The day their faces turned to black and white’,

  the Turk and Hindu will be known among them.

  They are not known when they are in the womb;

  at birth the strong and weak come into view.

  ‘I see, as on the Day of Resurrection,

  all of them face to face as men and women.

  So shall I speak or shall I save my breath?’

  Mohammed bit his lip at him: ‘Enough.’

  ‘God’s Prophet! Shall I tell the assembly’s secret?

  I’ll show the world today the Resurrection.

  Will you allow me to draw back the veils

  and, like a sun, my substance will shine out,

  So that the sun will be eclipsed by me,

  that I may show the date-palm and the willow?

  I’ll
demonstrate the Resurrection mystery,

  the precious coin and that with alloy mixed.

  Companions of the left with severed hands,

  I’ll show their faithless and deceitful colours,

  Reveal the seven holes of their deception,

  in moonlight neither waning nor declining.

  I shall reveal the woollen cloak of thieves;

  I’ll sound the drum and tabla of the prophets.

  I’ll bring before the eyes of infidels

  clear sight of hell and heaven and what’s between.

  I’ll show the seething reservoir of Kawsar,

  whose sound and water hit their ears and faces.

  And those who run around it parched with thirst,

  I shall identify them clearly there.

  And now their shoulders rub against my shoulders;

  their screams are penetrating both my ears.

  Before my eyes the folk of Paradise

  embrace each other of their own free will.

  They visit one another’s place of honour,

  and then they plunder kisses from their lips.

  My ear is deafened by the noise of sighing

  of wretched men and cries of “I am suffering.”

  These words are hints and I would speak in depth,

  but yet I fear I might annoy the Prophet.’

  He spoke like this, half-drunken and half-mad.

  The Prophet turned his collar up at him.

  He said, ‘Beware, hold back, your horse is hot.

  When “God is not ashamed!” has struck, shame goes.

  Your mirror has been sprung out of its case –

  how can the mirror contradict the scales?

  How could the scales and mirror stop the breath

  to spare someone offence and spare their feelings?

  The scales and mirror are the brilliant touchstones

  were you to use them for two hundred years.

  If one should say, “Conceal the truth for me,

  display the increase, don’t display the loss”,

  They’ll say, “Don’t mock your own moustache and beard,

  the scales and mirror, counsel and deception!”

  Since God has elevated us so that

  through us reality may be discerned,

  Or else, if not, what are we worth, young man;

  how shall we be the showcase of the fair?

  But put the mirror back inside its case.

  Illumination’s made your heart a Sinai.’

  ‘How could the Sun of Truth, the Sun eternal,’

  he said, ‘be kept eclipsed beneath an armpit?

  It tears the underhand and underarm;

  no madness and no wisdom can survive it.’

  He said, ‘Put up one finger to your eye –

  the world appears to be without the sun.

  A single fingertip obscures the moon

  – this is a symbol of how God conceals.’

  Just as the world is hidden by a point,

  the sun becomes eclipsed by one mistake.

  You, close your lips and see the ocean’s depth –

  God made the ocean subject to mankind.

  As Salsabil and Zanjabil’s outpourings

  are subject to the Lord of Paradise,

  Four streams of Paradise are in our power,

  not from our might but by command of God.

  We keep them flowing everywhere we will,

  like magic at the will of the magicians,

  As these two fountains flowing from the eyes

  are subject to the heart and soul’s command.

  If it desires, it goes to poisonous snakes,

  or it may wish to go to take good counsel.

  If it desires, it goes to sensual things,

  or it may wish to go to subtle things.

  If it desires, it goes to universals,

  or stays within the gaol of partial things.

  So all five senses are just like a channel:

  they’re flowing at the heart’s command and will.

  Whatever way the heart is telling them,

  the senses move and trail their skirts behind them.

  The hands and feet are in the heart’s control

  just like the staff held in the hand of Moses.

  The heart desires – and feet are made to dance

  or flee to increase from deficiency.

  The heart desires – the hand is brought to book

  with fingers so that it shall write a book.

  The hand is subject to a hidden hand –

  from inside this controls the outer body.

  If it desires, it is a snake to foes,

  or it may be a comrade to a friend.

  If it desires, it is a spoon in food

  or else a mace that weighs a hundredweight.

  I wonder what the heart will say to them –

  such strange conjunctions, stranger hidden causes.

  The heart must have the seal of Solomon

  that it can hold the reins of all five senses.

  Five outward senses are controlled by it,

  five inward senses at its beck and call.

  Ten senses and ten limbs and many others –

  you may count up the ones I’ve overlooked.

  Since you’re a Solomon in sovereignty,

  O heart, then cast your spell on sprite and demon.

  If you are not deceitful in this kingdom,

  three demons will not take the seal from you.

  And after that your name will seize the world;

  you shall possess the two worlds like your body.

  But if the demons take the seal from you,

  your sovereignty is gone, your fortune dead.

  And after that ‘O sorrow!’ and ‘O servants!’

  are fixed for you until ‘the day of gathering’.

  If you deny your own deceit, how will

  you save your soul before the scales and mirror?

  How Servants and Staff Acted Suspiciously towards Loqmān, Saying, ‘He Has Eaten the Fresh Fruit Which We Have Brought’

  To his own master, Loqmān seemed to be

  one of the feeblest of his serving boys.

  His lordship sent his servants to his orchards

  to bring him fruits so he could savour them.

  In servant circles Loqmān was a nuisance,

  his face as dark as night, so spiritual.

  The serving boys would take enormous pleasure

  in eating all the fruits with greedy relish.

  They told their master, ‘Loqmān’s eaten them.’

  The master was annoyed and cross with Loqmān.

  When Loqmān made enquiries of the reason,

  he ventured into speech to chide his master:

  ‘O Lord, the faithless servant,’ said Loqmān,

  ‘is not accepted in the sight of God.

  Test all of us, O you who are so generous,

  by filling up our bellies with hot water.

  Then make us run around the desert wastes,

  you riding, and us running round on foot.

  Then keep an eye out for the evil-doer,

  the acts of “the revealer of the mysteries”.’

  The master served his servants with hot water;

  they drank the draught and drank it out of fear.

  And then he drove them to the desert wastes.

  That group ran up and down and round about.

  They all began to vomit in distress;

  the water brought up all the fruit in them.

  Loqmān began to vomit from his stomach;

  the purest water gushed from his insides.

  Since Loqmān’s wisdom demonstrates this point,

  what is the wisdom of the Lord of Being?

  ‘The day on which all secrets are examined’,

  something concealed appears from you, unwished for.

  ‘Drink scalding water which will rid their bowels’


  of all the veils on things that are revolting.

  The fire is used to punish unbelievers

  because the fire is for assaying stones.

  So often have we spoken gently to them;

  those stony-hearted ones would heed no warning.

  A vein that’s badly cut is healed with pain;

  the donkey’s head ends up a meal for dogs.

  ‘For unclean women, unclean men’, says wisdom,

  and ugly is a proper mate for ugly.

  So go and mate with anything you like,

  and be absorbed in it, its form and features.

  If light is what you want, be worthy of it!

  If you’d be far away, be vain and distant!

  And if you would escape this ruined gaol,

  don’t spurn the Friend, ‘bow down and come towards Him’.

  The Rest of the Story of the Reply of the Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him)

  These words are endless. Be upstanding, Zayd;