For heaven grew out of misfortune, while
Mercy comes from the broken under trial.
God and His creatures’ mercy don’t come near
The one who smashes others’ heads down here.
This talk has no end, and that poet’s lost1860
All strength through lack of food, a heavy cost.
Happy the Sufi with a food reduction:
His bead becomes a pearl, and he an ocean.
He who learns of that special salary
Merits that pay’s source’s proximity.
His soul will start to tremble, though, all over
If his own mystic wages are made lower,
For he’ll know he’s earned that with an infringement,
Ruffling the jasmine bed of God’s contentment,
Just like that person who wrote to the owner1865
About why his crop share had been made lower:
They took his note to the top judge to read;
He chose not to reply or to take heed:
‘Loss of fine food is all he’s had to suffer—
For stupid people silence is the answer.’
He lacks the pain of being apart from Oneness;
He doesn’t seek the root, but worships branches.
He’s vile and he has died in selfishness,
Grieving the branch; the root’s not what he’ll miss.
Heaven and earth are apples that you see,1870
Which are made manifest by God’s power’s tree.
You’re like a worm inside and unaware
About the tree and how it was grown there.
A worm is in the apple, deep inside,
And its soul waves a flag on the outside;
Its movements split the apple from within—
The apple cannot hold that pressure in.
Its movement tears the veils, so it must be
Worm in form, dragon in reality.
The spark that darts from iron initially1875
Places its feet outside so gingerly;
Cotton keeps it alive at first with care,
Then watches as its flame soars in the air—
Humans at first must eat and sleep, but they
Can soar beyond the angels’ reach one day;
Cotton and matches nurture that one’s light,
But his flame soars beyond stars, far from sight.
He can light up the dark world and dismantle
Strong iron fetters with a tiny needle.
Though fire is also something physical,1880
Isn’t its origin still spiritual?
Body has no share in the mystic glory;
Body is a mere drop next to the soul’s sea.
The soul’s what makes the body’s days increase:
When the soul leaves, the body’s life will cease.
The limit of your body is so small;
Your soul soars to the sky above us all.
The journey to Baghdad and Samarkand
For spirits is one step across the land.
Your eyeballs weigh the same as two coins though1885
Their spirit’s light sees heaven from below.
Without the eyes, through dreams this light can see;
Without this light, eyes are blind totally.
The spirit’s separate from beards and moustaches;
Without the spirit, bodies are just corpses.
I’ve talked about the animal type of spirit;
The human spirit goes beyond its limit.
Transcend the human, Moses, and discussion,
To reach the shore of Gabriel’s spirit’s ocean!
Mohammad’s soul beyond then kisses you1890
And Gabriel will crawl back, so scared of you,
Saying: ‘If by one bow-length I come near
To you, at once I’ll be consumed right here.’*
The young man becomes agitated because no reply comes from the king to his letter.
This desert has no top or bottom either.
That young man found he didn’t get an answer:
‘How strange the king chose not to answer me!
Maybe it is the courier’s trickery,
Hiding the note I wrote from the king’s eyes,
Like water shifting under straw, through lies?
To test this out I’ll write another letter1895
And use a different courier who is better.’
The courier, kitchen head, and king: all three
Were blamed by this fool through stupidity.
He didn’t once look at himself to say:
The wind blew improperly on Solomon because of his error.
Wind blew improperly on Solomon’s throne.
‘Don’t creep improperly,’ that king would moan.
The wind said, ‘Stop behaving so perversely.
If you persist you can’t complain about me.
God set up weighing scales at the beginning, 1900
So justice is received by all. You’re wishing
To give short measure, so that’s what I’ll do—
Be straight with me and I’ll be straight with you.’
Likewise Solomon’s crown once blocked his sight
When it slid down—it made his day like night.
‘Don’t slide lopsided, crown, while on my head!
Sun, don’t set on my east!’ that king then said.
He repositioned the lopsided crown,
However, it would keep on sliding down.
He did this eight times; it slid stubbornly.1905
He said, ‘What’s up? Don’t creep improperly!’
It said, ‘Though often by you I’m corrected,
I will stay crooked, king, while you are crooked.’
Solomon straightened then his inner being;
He drew his heart back from what he’d been dreaming
To win, and it returned to its first state
Just as he’d wanted it—his crown was straight.
He made it crooked then deliberately—
It sought itself to rest as meant to be.
He made it crooked eight times, but instead1910
Each time that crown would straighten on his head.
The crown spoke, ‘King, be proud that you today
Have freed your wings from clay and fly away.’
To say more now is not allowed for me,
Nor to unveil this matter’s mystery.
Cover my mouth when your hand is in reach
To stop it uttering this unwelcome speech.
Whatever grief befalls you, please admit
It’s your fault—don’t blame others now for it.
Don’t be suspicious and resort to hating,1915
Don’t do what that young man was contemplating,
Fighting the kitchen head first, then the courier,
Directing all his anger at the ruler.
Pharaoh-like, you’ll chop every baby’s head,
Though he let the young Moses stay instead
In his own house: that one with a blind heart
Chopped others’ necks and could not tell apart.
You, too, treat badly others who’re outside,
While treating well the harmful self inside.
It is your foe, but you give it a sweet,1920
Instead accusing everyone you meet,
Like Pharaoh blind and so blind-hearted too,
Mean to the blameless, nice to who harms you.
For how long, Pharaoh, will you choose to kill
The blameless, pampering your body still.
This one excelled all kings with his sharp mind,
But God’s will made him ignorant and blind.
God’s seal on wisdom’s eyes and ears can turn
To beasts men who’re like Plato, though they learn.
Etched on the Tablet is the Lord’s decision1925
About what comes, like Bayazid’s
prediction.
Shaikh Abo ’l-Hasan hears Bayazid’s announcement informing about his coming to existence and his circumstances.
It happened as he’d said it would turn out
And from his people Bo ’l-Hasan found out
That Bayazid, before he had been born,
Had said, ‘He’ll study at my tomb each dawn.’
Bo ’l-Hasan said, ‘In dreams I’ve had a view
Of him and heard the shaikh’s soul say it too.’
He’d set off for his grave each dawn and wait
Until the sunrise. There he’d meditate.
Bayazid’s image either then appeared1930
Or wordlessly his problems disappeared,
Until one day he came auspiciously
When snow had covered all graves recently:
Snow piled as high as standards far and wide
With mounds on top. He felt much pain inside.
A shout came from the shaikh’s tomb suddenly:
‘I call you so that you might run to me,
So rush towards my voice—approach this way,
The world’s snow-filled. Seek me, don’t turn away.’
His inner state was good from then, and he1935
Saw wonders he’d just heard of previously.
That young man writes another note to the king since he did not get a reply to the first one.
That young, suspicious one wrote one more letter
Full of complaints, blame, and appalling matter.
He wrote, ‘I’ve written this once previously,
But did it reach the king successfully?’
That handsome king received and read this letter,
But chose not to reply to this one either,
Maintaining silent treatment as before—
That young man wrote again and sent five more.
‘He works for you,’ the chamberlain then said,1940
‘So there’s no fault in answering instead.
How will it harm you if you drop your stance
And cast upon this servant just one glance?’
‘That would be simple,’ then the king objected,
‘But he’s a wretch whom even God rejected.
If I forgive his sin and his transgression,
I might catch his disease from his infection.’
From just one scab a hundred quickly spread,
Especially the kind that all men dread.
May infidels be spared scabs of the brainless1945
Whose bad luck even makes the clouds all rainless,
Such that a single drop will not rain down;
That bad luck also ruins every town.
Those fools’ scabs brought in Noah’s Flood that razed
A whole world just so they would be disgraced.
‘Whoever is a fool’, the Prophet said,
‘Is my foe, the waylaying ghoul men dread.
One who’s intelligent is our soul and
His breeze is like our basil in this land.’
If intellect reproach me, I’m content.1950
It brings grace and from grace’s source it’s sent.
Such a reproach has so much benefit:
That host’s fine table has much food on it.
But if a wretch brings to my lips some halva
That makes me sick and I soon get a fever.
You should know, if enlightened and with favour,
That kissing donkey’s asses has no savour.
He pulls out the moustaches of your manhood;
His pot makes clothes black, but it is without food.
The table’s spread is wisdom, not just meat,1955
The light of wisdom, food for souls to eat.
Man has no food apart from light at all.
There’s no alternative to feed the soul.
Cut yourself off from plain food gradually—
That’s donkey feed next to food of the free.
This way you’ll gain original food one night
And you’ll consume the morsels of pure light.
That light’s reflection made these things food; grace
From that Soul made our souls in the first place.
Once you take one bite of this food of light,1960
You’ll bury thoughts of oven bread from sight.
There are two kinds of knowledge and the former
Is what you learn at school as a young scholar
From your books, teachers, thinking, and your memory,
Concepts and interesting new fields of study.
You will surpass men with the knowledge gained,
Yet you’ll be burdened by what you’ve retained,
For in your search you’re a retaining tablet—
One who transcends is the Protected Tablet.
This other knowledge comes from God’s bestowal1965
And this true wisdom’s found inside your soul.
When wisdom’s water gushes in your breast
It never stagnates; it’s forever blest.
Why feel concerned if its path’s blocked outside
When it keeps gushing constantly inside?
The knowledge that’s acquired though is a river
That runs through streams to homes to give men water;
If their path’s blocked the home’s supply will end—
Seek the fount deep within yourself, my friend!
The story about someone who was consulting another man who then said, ‘Consult someone else because I am your enemy.’
A man went to consult another person1970
To be delivered from his own confusion.
That man said, ‘Go, find someone else instead
And tell him of what fills you now with dread.
I am a foe, so do not turn to me;
No one is helped by their own enemy.
Go, find a friend of yours, for friends help out
And always wish you well, so there’s no doubt.
I am a foe, and so inevitably
Self-interest makes me act with enmity.
Who’d ask a wolf to guard his sheep? Tell me.1975
To seek from the wrong place is idiocy.
I am your enemy without a doubt;
I waylay you; how could I help you out?’
Whoever sits with friends is in a park
Even if in a furnace, hot and dark.
Whoever sits with foes is in a furnace
Even if sitting in a park or palace.
Don’t hurt your friend by acting selfishly
In case he should become your enemy.
For God’s sake and your own soul’s peace, do good1980
To other people, treat them as you should,
So they appear as friends always to you
And your heart blocks out ugly hate’s thoughts, too.
Since you’ve shown enmity, now pay attention—
Consult a friend who can inspire affection!
He said, ‘I know you, Bo ’l-Hasan,* to be
Someone who’s viewed me as an enemy,
But you’re so rational and so spiritual;
Reason stops you from being corrupt at all.’
Our nature wishes us to hate our foe;1985
Reason’s a chain that keeps the self in tow.
It comes, restrains, and keeps the self at bay
Like a chief of police in a good way.
Faith’s reason is a just chief of police,
Guarding and governing the heart with peace.
It is alert like cats, not thieves who stay
Inside a hole like mice throughout the day.
Wherever mice prevail, be certain that
There’s no cat, or just pictures of a cat.
What is a cat? Faith’s reason wears the crown,1990
A lion that with ease pins others down.
It governs all the ravenous with its roar;
Its yelling wards off every herbivore.
This city’s filled with every kind of thief
Even if there’s a law-enforcement chief.
The Prophet Mohammad made a young man of the Hozayl tribe the commander of a brigade which included senior soldiers and experienced fighters.
The Prophet once sent out a whole brigade
To fight each infidel and renegade.
He picked a youth from the Hozayl’s tribe’s groups
As chief and the commander of the troops.
The chief is the foundation of an army;1995
Without a chief they are a headless body.
The fact you’re withering and almost dead
Is due to your abandoning your head:
From being lazy, selfish, and a miser,
You’ve turned away and made yourself commander.
You’re like the mule who leaves its load alone
And wanders to the mountain on its own.
The owner chases it and from behind
Shouts, ‘Giddy one, wolves there devour your kind.
If you should disappear now from my vision,2000
A wolf will follow you from each direction
And chew all of your bones as if they’re sugar,
So you can’t possibly survive much longer.
Rebel and you will certainly lack food;
Fire is extinguished by a lack of wood.
Beware not to flee now from my control
And your own heavy load, for I’m your soul.’
You are a beast, too, for your self’s your ruler;
What dominates rules you, O self-adorer.
God called you horse, not ass, so understand.2005
Arabs say, ‘Come! ’ to horses as command.
Mohammad was God’s stable chief, so he
Helped beasts against their base self’s tyranny.
‘Say, “Come!” ’* he said through kindness, ‘So I can
Train you—I am the trainer for each man.
I have trained many carnal souls, and I
Have felt the kicks that animals let fly.’
When someone tries to train and teach another,
Inevitably kicks come flying, brother.
The most strike Prophets on their holy mission;2210
Training, base one, is in itself affliction.
You’re stumbling—at my word, try trotting faster
And smoothly for the carriage of your master.
God said, ‘Say, “Come!” Say, “Come! ” ” * we also read,
‘To beasts who have fled discipline.’ Take heed!
Prophet, if they don’t come, don’t feel unhappy
And don’t resent those who won’t act steadfastly.