1 OH happy the time of those distraught in love of Him,
Whether they experience the wound (of separation); or,
the plaster (of propinquity to Him)!*
Beggars from royalty fleeing;
In the hope of union with Him, in beggary, long-suffering.*
Time to time, they drink the wine of pain (of love for Him);
And, if they consider it bitter, they draw breath (are
patient).
In the pleasure of wine, there is the evil of head-sickness;
The thorn is the armour-bearer of the rose-branch.*
5 Patience, which is in remembrance of Him, is not bitter;
For bitterness from a friend's hand is sugar.
His captive descries not release from bonds;
His prey seeks not freedom from the snare.
Sultáns of retirement, beggars of Hai!
Stages of God recognisers, foot-trace lost.*
Intoxicated with (the love of) the friend (God), reproach-
enduring;
The camel, intoxicated, more easily bears the load.
How, may people find the path to their state?
For, like the water of life, they are in darkness.*
10 Like the holy house (Jerusalem), within—full of towers
(pomp);
Without,—the wall left desolate.*
Moth-like, they set fire to themselves;
Silk-worm-like, they spin not on themselves (a protection).
Mistress in embrace,—mistress-seeking;
On the stream-bank, lip dry with thirst.*
I say not that, as to water, they are powerless;
But they are, on the Nile, dropsical.
The love of one, like thyself—of water and clay,
Ravishes patience and heart-ease.*
15 In wakefulness,—enamoured of her cheek and mole;
In sleep,—foot-bound, in thought of her.
In truth, thou placest thy head (life) at her feet, in such a
way,
That, thou considerst the world, in comparison with her
existence, non-existent.
When thy gold comes not to the eye (of approval) of thy
mistress,
Gold and dust appear to thee the same.
To thee,—desire for another appears not;
For, with her,—place for another remains not.
Thou sayst:—“Her lodging is within my eye”;
And, if thou closest together the eye—“It is in my heart.”
20 Neither, thought of any one, lest thou shouldst become
disgraced,
Nor, power that thou shouldst, for a moment, become
patient.
If she desires thy life, thou placest it on the palm of her
hand;
And, if she puts the sharp sword on thy head, thou placest
thy head (in submission).
When love, whose foundation is on desire,
Is, to such a degree, tumult-exciting and command-issuing,
Hast thou wonder at the travellers of the path of God,
That they should be immersed in the sea of truth?
In passion for the Beloved, with soul engaged;
In remembrance of the Friend (God), careless of the world.*
25 In memory of God, they have fled from the world;
So intoxicated with (the splendour of) the Cup-bearer
(God) that they have spilled the wine!*
It is impossible to effect their cure with medicine;
For, none is acquainted with their pain (of love).
From eternity without beginning, to their ear comes:—
“Am I not your God?”
With clamour, in a shout, they utter:—“Yes!”*
A crowd,—office-holding, corner-sitting;
Feet, clayey; breath fiery,—*
Pluck up, with a shout, a mountain from its place;
Heap together, with a cry, a city:
30 Are, wind-like, invisible, and swift-moving;
Are, stone-like, silent, but praise-uttering.
In the morning, they weep to such a degree that the water
Washes down from their eyes the collyrium of sleep.
Steed (of the body) slain, with the great (austerity), with
which they have urged the night;
In the morning, shouting, saying:—“They are wearied!”*
Night and day, in the sea of phrenzy and burning;
From perturbation, they know not night from day.
So enamoured of the splendour of the figure-painter (God),
That they have no occupation with the beauty of the out-
ward form.
35 The pious ones gave not their hearts to the covering (ex-
ternal beauty);
And, if a fool gave,—he is brainless, and fleshless.
That one drank the pure wine of the Unity (of God),
Who forgot this world and the next.
I have heard that, once upon a time, one, beggar-born,
Had affection for one, king-born.*
He went, and cherished a vain desire;
Imagination plunged its teeth in desire.
Mile-stone like, he used not to be free (absent) from his (the
prince's) plain;
Bishop-like, at all times, at the side of his horse.*
40 His heart became blood, and the secret remained in his
heart;
But, his feet, through weeping, remained in the mire (of
desire).
The guards obtained intelligence of his grief;
They said to him:—“Wander not again here!”
A moment, he went; recollection of the friend's face
came to him;
Again, he pitched his tent, at the head of his friend's
street.
A slave broke his head, and hand, and foot,
Saying:—“Said we not once to thee,—come not here?”
Again, to him,—patience and rest remained not;
On account of his friend's face, patience remained not.
45 Like flies from off the sugar, with violence, him,
They used to drive away; but, with speed, he used to
return.
One said to him:—“Oh impudent one of insane appear-
ance!
“Thou hast wonderful patience as to (blows of) stick and
stone.”
He said:—“This violence, against me, is through his
tyranny;
“It is not proper to complain of a friend's hand.
“Behold, I express the breath of friendship;
“If he holds me friend; or, if enemy.
“Expect not, without him, patience from me;
“Nay—even with him, repose has no possibility.
50 “Neither the power of patience, nor room for anger;
“Neither the possibility of being (stopping), nor the foot
of flight.
“Say not,—turn aside the head from this door of the
Court;
“Though he place my head, like a tent-peg in the tent-
rope.
“Nay,—the moth, life given at its friend's foot,
“Is better than alive in its dark corner.”
He said:—“If thou shouldst suffer the wound of his club?”
He replied:—“I will fall, at his feet, ball-like.”
He said:—“If, with the sword, he cuts off thy head?”
He replied:—“This much even, I grudge not.
55 “To me,—indeed, there is not so much knowledge,—
“Whether, the crown, or the axe, be at my head.
“Display not reproof with me impatient;
“For, patience appears not, in love.
“If my eye becomes white (diseased) like Yakúb,
“I abandon not hope of seeing Yusúf.*
“One who is happy (in love) with another,
“Is not vexed with him, for every little thing.”*
On day, the youth kissed his (the prince's) stirrup;
He became angry; and turned the rein from him.
60 He laughed, and said:—“Turn not the rein;
“For, the Sultán turns not away the rein (face) from any.
“To me—by thy existence, existence remains not;
“To me,—in memory of thee, self-worshipping remains
not.
“If thou observst a crime, reproach me not:
“Thou art head brought forth (produced) from my collar
(of existence).*
“I fixed my hand in thy stirrup with that boldness;
“For, I brought not myself in the account.
“I drew the pen on (effaced) my own name;
“Placed my foot on the head of my own desire.
65 “The arrow of that intoxicated eye slays me indeed;
“What need that thou shouldst bring thy hand to the
sword.
“Set fire to the reed, and pass;
“So that in the forest neither dry, nor green, thing may
remain.”*
I have heard, that at the chanting of a singer,
One of Parí face began to dance.
From the fire of the distracted hearts around her,
A candle-flame caught in her skirt.
She became troubled in heart and vexed;
One of her lovers said:—“What fear?
70 “Oh love! as to thee,—the fire burned the skirt;
“As to me,—it burned, all at once, the harvest (of
existence).”
If thou art a lover, express not a breath about thy self;
For, it is infidelity (to speak of) lover and one's self.*
I recollect hearing from a knowing old man, in this way,
That one, distraught with love, turned his head to the
desert.
The father, through separation from him, neither ate nor
slept;
They reproached the son; he said:—
“From that time, when the Friend called me one of his
own,
“Further love for any one remained not to me.
75 “By God! when He showed me His beauty,
“Whatever else I beheld appeared to me fancy.”
He, who turned away from the people became not lost;
For he found again his own lost one (God).
There are, beneath the sky, shunners of men,
Whom one can call, at once, wild beast and also angel.
Like the angel, they rest not from remembering the King
(God);
Like the wild beast, they, night and day, shun men.
Strong of arm (by spirituality); but short of hand (by
materiality);
Wise,—(outwardly) mad; sensible—(outwardly) intoxi-
cated.*
80 Sometimes, tranquil in a corner, religious habit-stitching;
Sometimes, perplexed in society, religious habit-burning.
Neither passion as to themselves; nor, solicitude for any
one;
Nor place for any one, in the cell of their unitarianism.
Perturbed of reason, confused of sense;
Ear-stuffed to the word of the adviser.*
The duck will not become drowned in the river (of lust);
The samundar! what knows he of the torment of burning?*
Empty of hand, men of full stomach (proud);
Desert wanderers, without a Káfila:
85 They have no expectation of the people's approbation;
For, they are approved of God;—and that is enough.
Dear ones (of God) concealed from the people's eye;
Not those waist-cord-possessing, clothed in the habit of the
darwesh.
They are full of fruit, and shady, vine-like;
Are not like us,—of black deeds, and blue garment-dyers.*
Head plunged in themselves (in reflection), oyster-like;
Not, foam (on mouth) gathered, river-like.
If wisdom be thy friend, be afraid of them, (those foam-
gathered);
For, they are demons in the garb of men.*
90 They are not men indeed of bone and skin;
A true soul is not in every form.
The Sultán (God) is not the purchaser of every slave;
Not, beneath every religious garment is there a living man.
If every drop of hail had become a pearl,
The bázár would have become full of them like small shells.
They fasten not the (wooden) clog to themselves, juggler-
like;
For, the wooden clog moves hardly from its place.*
Companions of the house of retirement—“Am I your
God?”
They are, with a draught, intoxicated until the blast of
the trumpet (of Saráfíl).*
95 For the sword, they take not off their grasp from desire
(of God);
For abstinence and love are as the mirror and the stone.*
A certain one had a mistress in Samarkand;
Thou wouldst say:—“She possessed sugar, in place of
speech.”*
A beauty,—pledge taken from the sun!
Piety's foundation became ruined by her coquetry.*
God Most High!—of beauty, to such a degree,
That thou wouldst think it a sign of the mercy (of God)!
She used to walk;—and, eyes were behind her;
Lover's hearts, life placed in exchange for her.*
100 That lover used, covertly, to glance at her;
She once, with severity, looked; and, said:—
“Oh perverse one! so much, thou runst after me;
“Knowst thou not, that I am not the bird of thy net?
“If, again, I see thee (at my heels), with the sword,
“Like an enemy, pitiless, I will cut off thy head.”
One said to him:—“Now take thy resolve;
“Choose a more easy object than this one.
“I think not thou mayst acquire this desire;
“God forbid! that thou shouldst place thy life in the
heart's desire.”
105 When he,—mad with love, heart-lost,—heard this reproach,
He drew forth with sorrow a cry from his heart,
Saying:—“Allow,—that the wound of the sword of de-
struction
“May cause my corpse to roll in blood and sweat.
“Perhaps, before friend and enemy, they will speak,
“Saying:—‘This is one slain by her hand and sword!’
“I see not the (way of) flight, from the dust of street;
“Say:—in tyranny, spill not my honour!
“Oh self-worshipper! For me,—thou dictatest repen-
tance;
“For thee,—repentance of this speech is better.
110 “Pardon me; for, whatever she does,
“She does well—even if there be desire for my blood.
“Every night, her fire (of love) causes me to burn;
“In the morning, I become alive by her pleasant perfume.
“If, to-day, I die, in the street of my beloved,
“In the Resurrection, I will pitch my tent by my beloved.”
Yield not, so long as thou canst, in this battle (of love);
For Sa'dí is alive, whom love slew.*
A certain one thirsty was saying, while he surrendered his
soul:—
“Happy is that fortunate one, who in water died!”
115 One of deficient understanding said to him,—“Oh wonder!
“When thou art dead,—whether moist or dry of lip, what
matter?”
He said:—“In the end, do I not make my mouth moist,
“Until, I lay down even my precious life?”
The thirsty one falls into the deep basin;
For, he knows that the one drowned dies water-satiated.
If thou art a lover, seize her skirt;
And, if she says:—“Surrender thy life!” say:—“Take
it.”*
Thou mayst enjoy ease of life, at that time,
When thou passest over the hill of non-existence.
120 The heart of seed-sowers may be afflicted;
(But), when the harvest is accomplished, they sleep plea-
santly.
In this assembly (of love to God), those arrive at their
desire,
Who, in the last circulation, attain the cup (of love).*
I have a tale of this sort—of the men of the way of God,
Rich mendicants; king beggars;*
—That an old man went, in the morning, for the purpose
of begging;
He beheld the door of a masjid; and, gave the mendicant's
cry.
One said to him:—“This is not the people's house;
“Where they give thee anything; stand not here, in im-
pudence.”
125 He said to him:—“Then, whose is this house,
“In which, there is no bestowing (of alms) to any one?”
He said:—“Be silent; what faulty word is this?
“The lord of this house is our Lord God!”
The old man glanced within; he beheld candle and
prayer-arch,
He drew forth, with burning, a lament from his liver.
Saying:—“It is a pity, to go farther hence;
“It is a pity, to go disappointed from this door.
“In disappointment, I went not forth from any street;
“Why should I go, yellow-of-face, from God's door?*
130 “Even here, I may make the hand of entreaty long;
“For, I know that I may not return empty of hand.”
I have heard that, for a year, he sate, a sojourner,
Like those redress-seeking, hand-uplifted.
One night, the foot of his life descended into the clay (of
death).
Through weakness, his heart began to palpitate.
In the morning, a person brought a lamp near to his head;
He beheld a spark of life in him, like the morning-lamp.
From gladness, clamour-making, he kept saying:—
“Whosoever beats (knocks at) the door of the Merciful
One, that door becomes opened.
135 The seeker of God must be patient and submissive;
I have not heard that the alchymist is (ever) dejected.
How much gold do they put in the obscure dust,
That they may, possibly, one day, make a piece of copper
gold!
Gold, for the sake of purchasing a thing, is good;
What wilt thou buy better than friend and lover?
If through one, heart-ravishing,—thy heart is straitened,
Another consoler may come to thy grasp.
For one of bitter face, endure not life-bitterness;
With the water (of beauty) of another, draw out the fire
(of love) for her.
140 But if she have, in beauty, no equal;
Abandon her not, for a little heart-annoyance.
It is possible to disengage the heart from that one,
Without whom, thou knowst it is possible to be content.
I heard that an old man kept awake the night;
In the morning, he raised the hand of need to God.
A voice from heaven cast into the old man's ear:—
—“Thou art profitless; go; take thy own way.”*
“At this door (of God), thy prayer is unacceptable;
“Go, in contempt; or stand, in lamentation.”
145 The next night, from recitation of the name of God and
devotion, he slept not;
A disciple obtained news of his state, and said:—
“When thou sawst that the door on that side was closed,
“Endure not uselessly such a struggle.”
On his cheek, tears of ruby-colour
Rained, in regret; and, he said:—“Oh youth!
“I would, in hopelessness, have turned away,
“From this door, at the time when I could have found
another way.
“Think not, if the friend broke the reins,
“That I would take off the hand from his saddle-strap.
150 “When the asker becomes disappointed at a door,
“What grief, if he recognises another door?*
“I have heard that my way is not in this street;
“But, there is not the semblance of another path.”
He was in this talk,—head on the ground of devotion,
When, in the ear of his soul, they uttered this sound:—
“The prayer is accepted, though to him is no goodness;
“For save us, to him is no other shelter.”
A new young bride complains,
To an old man (her father), of her unkind husband,*
155 Saying:—“Approve not so much that, by this son (my
husband),
“My time should pass in bitterness.
“Those (man and wife) who are with us in this lodging
“—I see not that they are, like me, disturbed in heart.
“The woman and man are together such friends,
“That thou mayst say—they are two kernels, and one
husk.
“During this time, on my husband's part, I have not seen,
“That, he once smiled in my face.”
The old man of happy omen heard this speech;
The man of ancient years was speech-knowing.
160 He gave to her an answer, sweet and pleasant,
Saying:—“Endure the burden of his violence, if he be
beautiful of face.”
It is a pity to turn away from one,
Like whom, it is not possible to find another.
Why art thou arrogant with one who, if he be arrogant,
Draws the pen on the letter of (effaces) thy existence?
Acquiesce, slave-like, to the order of God;
For, thou seest not a master like Him.
One day, my heart burned (in pity) on account of a slave;
Who, while his master was selling him, was saying:—
165 “To thee,—many a slave, better than I, may chance;
“To me,—a master, like thee, no one may be.
In Marv, there was a physician of Parí cheek,
Whose stature, in the garden of the heart, was a cypress.*
To him,—no knowledge of the grief of torn hearts;
To him,—no knowledge of his own sick eye.*
A sorrowful wanderer relates a tale,
Saying:—“Some time, I had love for the physician.*
“I desired not my own health;
“Lest that the physician should not, again, come to me.”
170 There is much strong, brave, wisdom,
Which the passion of love subdues.
When the passion of love rubs wisdom's ear,
Sense is unable, again, to raise its head.
A certain one established (by training) an iron grasp,
Who wished to grapple with the lion.
When the lion drew him within his own grasp,
He found not, again, any force in his own grasp.
One, at length, said to him:—“Why sleepst thou, woman-
like?
“Strike him (the lion) with the iron fist.”
175 I heard that the wretch, beneath that (lion), said:—
“It is not possible with this grasp to battle with the lion.”*
When love becomes audacious, as to the wisdom of the
sage,
This, indeed, is an iron grasp and a lion.
Thou art a woman, in the grasp of lion-men,
What advantage may the iron grasp render thee?*
When love comes, speak not again of reason;
For the ball (of reason) is captive in the power of the
Chaugán (of love).
Between two uncle-born ones, marriage occurred:
Two of sun-face, of high descent.*
180 To one (the wife)—it (the marriage) had chanced very
agreeably;
The other had become shunning and avoiding.*
One possessed courtesy and Parí-like grace;
The other kept his face towards the wall.
One used to adorn her own body;
The other used to ask for his own death from God.
The old men of the village caused the husband to sit (before
them),
Saying:—“To thee, is no love for her; to her, give the
dowry.”
He laughed and said:—“With a hundred sheep,
“Deliverance from bonds is not loss!”
185 The one of Parí-face, with her own nail, flayed her skin,
Saying:—“With this number of sheep, how can I ever be
patient, as to my friend?*
“Not a hundred sheep, but six hundred thousand,
“Are unnecessary,—without seeing the face of my lover!”
Whatever keeps thee engaged with a friend,
—If thou desirest truth,—it is thy heart-ease (mistress).
A certain one to one of distraught state, wrote,
Saying:—“Desirest thou hell, or heaven?”
He said:—“Ask not of me, this matter;
“I approve what He approves for me.”
190 A certain one spoke to Majnún, saying:—“Oh one of
auspicious foot!
“What happened to thee, that thou comest not again to
Hayy?
“Perhaps, the passion for Laila, in thy brain, remains not;
“Thy fancy turns; and desire remains not?”
When the helpless one heard, he wept bitterly,
Saying:—“Oh sir! Keep thy hand from my skirt.
“I have, indeed, a heart,—sorrowful and torn;
“Pour not thy salt on my wound.
“Separation is not a proof of patience;
“For, separation is often a necessity.”
195 He said:—“Oh one fidelity-possessing, of happy disposi-
tion!
“Utter the message, which thou hast for Laila.”
He replied:—“Take not my name before the beloved;
“For (to mention) my name, where she is, is violence.”
A certain one took up reproach against Mahmúd of Ghaznín,
Saying:—“Áyáz has no (great) beauty. Oh wonder!
“The rose, which has neither colour nor perfume,—
“The nightingale's passion for it is wonderful.”
One uttered this matter to Mahmúd;
He writhed much on himself, in reflection,
200 Saying:—“Oh sir! my love is for his disposition,
“Not, for his stature, and good height.”
I heard that, in a defile, a camel
Fell; and, a chest of pearls broke.
The king expanded his sleeve for plunder;
And, thence urged his horse with speed.
The horsemen (of the retinue) went after the pearls and
coral;
They became, in search of plunder, separated from the king.
Of the attendants, neck-exalting, there remained
None, behind the king, save Áyáz.
205 He glanced, saying:—“Oh one heart-enchanting, fold in
fold!
“What hast thou brought from the plunder?” He
replied:—“Nothing.*
“I galloped in rear of thee;
“I quitted not service for wealth.”
If thou hast propinquity, in the Court (of God),
Be not careless of the King, for wealth.
It is contrary to religion, that the friends of God;
Should ask for anything, save God, from God.*
If, as to a friend, thy eye is intent upon his beneficence,
Thou art in the desire of thyself, not in the desire of thy
friend.
210 So long as thy mouth is open, through avarice;
The secret (of God) from the hidden comes not to the ear
of the heart.
Truths are a decorated house;
Lust and concupiscence are dust up-raised.*
Seest thou not, that wherever the dust has risen,
The sight beholds not, though man be possessed of vision.
By chance I and an old man from Faryáb
Arrived at a water (of a river) in the soil of the West.*
I had one diram; they took
Me, in a boat; and, left the darvesh.
215 The Ethiopians (boatmen) urged the vessel, like smoke;
For the commander of that vessel was one, God-not
fearing.*
From thought of my companion, to me weeping came;
He laughed a horse-laugh, at my weeping, and said:—
“Oh one full of wisdom! suffer not grief for my sake;
“That One, who takes the boat, brings me.”
He spread the prayer-carpet on the surface of the water;
—I thought, is it fancy; or (do I behold it) in a dream?—
From amazement, my eye, that night, slept not;
In the morning, the old man glanced at me, and said:—
220 “Oh friend of happy judgment! remainst thou astonied?
“A boat brought thee! and, God me!”
Why do not the people of prayer believe to this extent,
That certain pious men may go in water and fire?*
The child, who has no knowledge of fire,
The loving mother protects.
Then those, who are immersed in religious fervour,
Are, night and day, in the eye of the protection of God.
God preserves (Ibráhím) the friend of God from the heat
of the fire;
As the wooden-cradle of Musa (the speaker of God) from
the whirl-pool of the Nile.
225 When a boy is in the hand of a swimmer,
He fears not, though the Euphrates be broad.*
How mayst thou walk on the surface of the sea,
Like men (of God), when, on dry land, thou art wet of
skirt (sin-stained)?
Wisdom's path is not, save turning on turning;
Before holy men there is nothing, save God.
One can say this to the one truths-knowing;
But, the people of argument cavil,*
Saying:—“Then the sky and earth—what are they?
“The son of Ádam, and rapacious and non-rapacious
beasts what are they?”
230 Oh wise man! thou didst ask an approved matter;
If the answer be agreeable to thee, I will speak,
Saying:—“The plain, and sea, and mountain, and sky,
“Parí and Ádam-born, and demon, and angel—
“All, whatever they are,—are less than He;
“For, they took the name of existence by His existence.*
“Before thee, the sea, in wave-motion, is mighty;
“The shining sun, in the zenith, is lofty.
“But, how do people of external form find the trace,
“To the country, where the lords of truth are?*
235 “Saying:—‘If it be a sun, it is not even an atom;
“And, if it be seven rivers, it is not even a drop of water.’”*
When the Sultán of Honour (God) draws forth His
standard (appears),
The world draws its head into the collar of non-existence.
The Ra,is of a village, with his son, on a certain road,
Passed by the centre of a monarch's army.
The son beheld the heralds, and sword, and battle-axe;
Coats of satin, waist-belts of gold.
Warriors, bow-possessing, and prey-striking;
Slaves, quiver-bearing, and arrow-casting.
240 This one,—a garment of painted silk on his body;
That one,—a royal cap on his head.
The son, when he beheld all that pomp and splendour,
Saw the exceeding meanness of his father,
Whose state changed, and whose colour went;
From fear, he fled to a cave.
The son said, at length, to him:—“Thou art the Ra,is of
a village;
“Thou art, in chieftainship, of the great ones.*
“What chanced to thee, that thou didst sever the hope of
life;
“Didst tremble, willow-like, with the blast of terror?”
245 He replied:—“Yes; I am chief, and order-giver;
“But, my honour is (only) so long as I am in the village.”
The great ones (holy men) are terror-struck, on that
account,
That they have been in the Court of the King (God).
Oh simpleton! thou art, in the village, inasmuch
As thou attributest such importance to thy own person.
The eloquent uttered no word,
On which, Sa'dí utters not a parable.
Perhaps, thou mayst have seen, in the garden or meadow,
how
The fire-fly gleams at night, lamp-like?*
250 One said to it:—“Oh fire-fly, night-illuminating!
“What is the matter with thee, that thou comest not forth
by day?”
Behold—the fiery fire-fly, earth-born,
What answer it gave from its head of luminosity.
“Day and night, save in the desert, I am not;
“But, in the sun's presence, I am not manifest.”
In a city of Syria, tumult occurred;
They seized an old man of happy nature.
Within my ear, still is that speech,
—When they placed fetters on his feet and hands,—
255 Which he uttered:—“If the Sultán (God) makes not the
signal,
“To whom, is there the boldness to plunder?”
It is proper to hold such an enemy (the plunderer), a friend;
For, I know the Friend (God) appointed him over me.
If there be respect and rank; or, if contempt and bonds,—
I know that they come from God, not from 'Umar and Zayd.*
Oh wise man! have no fear of disease;
For, the Physician (God) sends bitter medicine.
Enjoy whatever comes from the hand of the friend;
The sick one is not wiser than the physician.
260 A certain one uttered praise as to Sa'd (son) of Zangí;
Saying:—“May there be much mercy on his tomb!”*
He gave money, and a dress of honour; and cherished him;
Prepared for him, a dignity conformable to his skill.
When he saw—“Alláh va bas,”—on a picture of gold,
He was agitated; and plucked off the robe from his body.*
From perturbation, such a flame caught his soul,
That he arose, and took the path to the desert.
One of those desert-sitting said to him:—
“What sawst thou, that thy state became changed?
265 “Thou didst, first, kiss the ground in three places;
“Thou shouldst not, in the end, strike the back of the
foot (on the gold).”*
He laughed, saying:—“First, from fear and hope,
“A trembling, willow-like, fell on my limbs.
“Finally, from the majesty of—‘Alláh va bas”
“Neither thing, nor person, appeared (worthy) in my
eye.”
Of a certain one like me, the heart to the power of a
person
Was pledged; and, he endured much contempt.*
After (regarding him for) learning and wisdom,
They proclaimed him by (beat of) drum for madness.
270 For the friend, he used to bear the violence of the enemy;
For the poison (even) of a friend is a great antidote.*
He used to suffer pushing on the back of the head, from
the hands of his friends;
Forehead brought forward (to the blows) nail-like.*
Fancy made tumult as to his head, in such a way,
That, it made the roof of his brain kick-suffering.
Of his friends' reproaching, to him was no knowledge,
As one drowning has no knowledge of rain.
He, whose heart's foot has come against the stone (of love)
Reflects not regarding the gloss of name and fame.
275 One night the demon (Shaitán) made himself like one of
Parí-face;
He hastened into that young man's embrace.*
In the morning, to him, was no power of prayer;
Of his friends none was acquainted with his secret.
He plunged into a piece of water, near the roof (building),—
A marble-door, on it ice fixed.*
An adviser began to reproach,
Saying:—“Thou wilt kill thyself, in this cold water.”
From the just youth, a cry issued,
Exclaiming:—“Oh friend! be silent as to so much
reproach.
280 “Five days, this boy fascinated my heart;
“For love of him, I am in such a state that I cannot be
patient.*
“He asked not once, with sweet throat, (as to my con-
dition),
“Behold,—how long I endure, with soul, the burden of
his tyranny.
“Then as to Him,—who created my body from the dust;
“Created within it, by His power, the pure soul,—
“Hast thou wonder, if I bear the burden of His order,
“When I am perpetually immersed in His beneficence and
grace?”
If thou art a man of love, lose thyself;
And, if not,—take the path of ease.*
285 Fear not that God may, through love, make thee clay;
For thou remainst, if God destroys thee.*
From true grains, vegetation springs not,
Unless, first, dust gathers about them.*
That gives thee acquaintance with God,
Which gives thee deliverance from thy own hand.*
For, so long as thou art self-possessing, the path to thyself
is not;
And, with this subtlety, the self-less one only is acquainted.*
Not the musician,—but the sound of the animal's hoof,
Is song (samá'), if thou hast love (to God) and passion
(for Him).
290 The fly beats not its wings, before the one heart-dis-
traught,
Who strikes not, fly-like, his hands on his head.*
The one distraught in affairs (the lover of God) knows
neither the bass nor the treble note;
The fakír weeps at the voice of the fowl.*
The Singer (God) Himself becomes not silent;
But, not every time, is the ear open.*
When those distraught practise wine-adoration,
They express intoxication, at the sound of the water-wheel.*
Like a water-wheel, they begin gyrating;
Like a water-wheel, they weep bitterly on themselves.
295 With resignation, they carry their head into the collar (of
reflection);
When power (of patience) remains not, they rend the
collar (in perturbation).*
Reproach not the darvesh, bewildered and intoxicated
(with love),
Who is immersed in the sea of God; for that reason, he
strikes hand and foot.*
Oh brother! I say not samá', what it is (lawful, or not);
Perhaps, I know not the hearer, who he is (a lover of
God, or not)?
If from the tower of truth (of God), his bird (soul) flies,
The angel remains below his journeying.
If he be a man of sport and pastime and mirth,
The demon (of lust) becomes stronger within his brain.*
300 How is the lust-worshipper a man of samá'?
At the pleasant sound, the one sleeping rises, not the one
intoxicated.*
By the moving wind, the rose becomes disturbed;
Not, the fire-wood, which one can split only with an axe.*
The world is full of samá', and intoxication, and distraction,
But, what does the blind man behold in the mirror?*
Seest thou not—the camel at the rousing of the Arab's
(recitation),
How joy brings him to dancing?*
What! the camel has, in his head, tumult and joy;
If a man has not—he is an ass.
305 A young man of sugar-lip used to blow the flute;
In such a way, that he used to burn hearts in the fire,
reed-like.*
The father, oftentimes, hurled shouts at him,
With severity; and, used to set fire to the flute.
One night, he listened to his son's performance;
The hearing of it made him confused and senseless.
The father spoke—sweat cast up on his face,
Saying:—“This time, the reed (flute) set fire to me.”
Knowst thou not—the intoxicated phrenzied ones
Why they spread forth the hands in dancing?
310 Through events, a door opens on his heart,
He scatters his hand as to (abandons) the universe.*
In memory of his Friend (God), dancing was lawful to him,
In whose every sleeve is a soul.*
I allow—that thou art vigorous in swimming;
Naked,—thou canst better strike the hand and foot.*
Pluck off the ragged garments of name and reputation,
and hypocrisy;
For a man, powerless by his garment, may be drowned.
Worldly connection is a veil, and profitless;
When thou breakst the ligature, thou art one joined (to
God).*
315 A person said to a moth:—“Oh contemptible one!
“Go; take a friend suitable to thyself,
“Go on such a path, that thou mayst see the way of hope;
“Thou, and the love of the candle is from where to where?*
“Thou art not the samundar; circle not around the fire;
“For, manliness is (first) necessary (for man), then con-
flict.
“The blind mouse (bat) goes hidden from the sun;
“For, force is foolish against an iron grasp.
“The person, whom thou knowst to be thy enemy;
“To take for a friend is not (the part) of wisdom.”*
320 No one says to thee:—“Thou dost do good
“When thou placest thy life in the desire of his love.*
“The beggar who, of a king, asked (in marriage) for his
daughter,
“Suffered pushing on the back of his head, and nurtured
a vain passion.
“How may she bring into reckoning a lover like thee,
“For, the faces of kings and sultáns are towards her?*
“Think not that, in such an assembly, she
“Will exercise courtesy to a poor one like thee.
“Or if she practise gentleness towards the whole creation,
“—Thou art a helpless one;—she will exercise severity
to thee.”
325 Behold! the ardent moth
What it said:—“Oh wonder displayer! if I burn, what
fear?*
“Like Ibráhím, a fire (of love) is in my heart,
“That, thou mayst consider this (candle-) flame is to me
a rose.*
“My heart draws not the skirt of the ravishing one (the
candle);
“But its love draws the collar of my soul.*
“Voluntarily, I take not myself to the fire;
“But, the chain of love is about my neck.
“Even so, I was far, when it burned me;
“Not this moment, when the fire of love kindled in me.
330 “A beloved one, in regard to loveliness, does not do that,
“That one can speak to her of continence.
“Who reproaches me for love of the friend,
“When, slain at the friend's foot, I am content?
“Knowst thou, why I have a lust for destruction,
“When it (the candle) is, if I am not,—it is proper.
“I will burn because it is the approved beloved,
“In whom, the burning of the friend (the moth) makes
circulation.
“How long speakst thou to me, saying:—‘Suitable to
thyself
“‘Get a companion, compassionate to thyself?’
335 “Admonition to that one of distraught state is as if
“Thou shouldst say to one scorpion-bitten—lament not!
“Oh astonished one! utter not advice to that person,
“In whom, thou knowst that it will take no effect.*
“To the helpless one, rein-gone from the hand,
“They say not:—‘Oh boy! urge slowly.’”*
How pleasantly occurred this witticism in the book—Sind-
bád:—
—“Oh son! love is fire; advice, wind.”*
The fierce fire, by the wind, becomes more lofty;
The panther, by striking, becomes more angry.
340 When I saw, thoroughly, thou doest evil,
That thou placest my face opposite to one like thyself.*
Seek one better than thyself, and reckon it gain;
For, with one like thyself, thou losest time.
The self-worshippers go in pursuit of such as themselves;
Those intoxicated of God go in a dangerous street (of love).
When I first possessed desire for this work,
I took up, at once, my heart from desire (of life).*
One head-casting is true as a lover;
For, one of white-liver is the lover of himself.*
345 Death, in ambush, suddenly, slays me;
It is better, indeed, that the delicate one should slay me.
When, doubtless, destruction is written on my head,
Destruction (is) most pleasant, by the hand of the beloved.
Dost thou not, one day, in helplessness, yield the soul?
Then, it is best thou surrender it, at the feet of the beloved.
One night, I recollect that my eyes slept not;
I heard that a moth spoke to a candle,
Saying:—“I am a lover; if I burn, it is lawful,
“Wherefore is thy weeping and burning?”
350 It replied:—“Oh my poor lover!
“Honey (wax), my sweet friend, has departed from me.
“When sweetness (wax) goes away from me,
“Like (the statuary) Farhad, fire goes to my head.”
The candle kept speaking,—and, every moment, a torrent
of grief
Ran down, on its yellow cheeks,—
Saying:—“Oh claimant! love is not thy business;
“For, thou hast neither patience, nor the power of
standing.
“Thou dost fly from before a naked flame;
“I am standing, until I completely burn.
355 “If the fire of love burns thy feathers,
“Behold me, whom it burns from head to foot.
“Observe not my splendour, assembly-illuminating;
“Consider the heat and torrent of my heart-burning.
“Like Sa'dí, whose outward form is illuminated;
“But, if thou lookst,—his vitals are burned.”*
A portion of the night, even so, had not passed,
When one of Parí-face, suddenly, extinguished it.*
While its smoke rose to its head, it kept saying:—
“Oh son! this is indeed the end of love!”*
360 This is the way (of God), if thou wilt learn;
By being slain, thou wilt obtain ease from the burning (of
love).*
Make not lamentation over the grave of one slain by the
friend;
Say:—“Praise be to God! that he is accepted by Him.”
If thou art a lover, wash not the hand of sickness (of love).
Wash the hand, like Sa'dí, of (worldly) design.*
The one who sacrifices his life keeps not his hand from his
object,
Though they rain arrow and stone on his head.*
I said to thee “Beware; go not to the ocean;
“But, if thou goest, entrust thy body to the storm.”