Most of 'Aṭṭár's copious works remain, as I have said, unpublished, except in the Lucknow lithographed edition of Limited scope of the present notice. 1872, which, unfortunately, I do not possess. An immense amount of pioneer work remains to be done ere this great mystic's work can be described even in broad outlines, and I, writing at a distance from the few libraries in this country where manuscripts of all his important works are preserved, am obliged to content myself here (since nothing more need be said about the Tadhkiratu'l-Awliyá or the Pand-náma) with a few observations on the most celebrated of his mystical Mathnawís, the Manṭiqu'ṭ-Ṭayr, or “Speech of the Birds,” accessible, as already stated, in the excellent edition of Garcin de Tassy. This scholar gives in his preface to the translation a poem of twenty-four couplets copied from the monument erected over the poet's tomb in Níshápúr; but since the monument in question was only erected about the end of the fifteenth century, by order of Sulṭán Abu'l-Ghází Ḥusayn, who reigned over Khurásán from A.D. 1468-1506, it is of no great authority, and it is hardly worth trying to explain the inconsistencies which it presents.
The Manṭiqu'ṭ-Ṭayr is an allegorical poem of something over 4,600 couplets. Its subject is the quest of the birds The Manṭiqu 'ṭ-Ṭayr. for the mythical Símurgh, the birds typifying the Ṣúfí pilgrims, and the Símurgh God “the Truth.” The book begins with the usual doxologies, including the praise of God, of the Prophet, and of the Four Caliphs, the latter clearly showing that at this period Shaykh 'Aṭṭár was a convinced Sunní. The narrative portion of the poem begins at verse 593, and is comprised in 45 “Discourses” (Maqála) and a “Conclusion” (Khátima). It opens with an account of the assembling of the birds, some thirteen species of whom are separately apostrophised. They decide that for the successful pursuit of their quest they must put themselves under the guidance of a leader, and proceed to elect to this position the Hoopoe (Hudhud), so celebrated amongst the Muslims for the part which it played as Solomon's emissary to Bilqís, the Queen of Sheba. The Hoopoe harangues them in a long discourse, which concludes with the following account of the first Manifestation of the mysterious Símurgh.
“When first the Símurgh, radiant in the night,
Passed o'er the land of China in its flight,
A feather from its wing on Chinese soil
Fell, and the world in tumult did embroil,
Each one did strive that feather to pourtray;
Who saw these sketches, fell to work straightway.
In China's Picture-hall that feather is:
‘Seek knowledge e'en in China’ * points to this.
Had not mankind the feather's portrait seen,
Such strife throughout the world would ne'er have been.
Its praise hath neither end nor origin:
Unto what end its praise shall we begin ?”
No sooner, however, has the quest been decided upon than the birds “begin with one accord to make excuse.” The Excuses of the birds. nightingale pleads its love for the rose; the parrot excuses itself on the ground that it is imprisoned for its beauty in a cage; the peacock affects diffidence of its worthiness because of its connection with Adam's expulsion from Paradise; the duck cannot dispense with water; the partridge is too much attached to the mountains, the heron to the lagoons, and the owl to the ruins which these birds respectively frequent; the Humá loves its power of conferring royalty; the falcon will not relinquish its place of honour on the King's hand; while the wagtail pleads its weakness. All these excuses, typical of the excuses made by men for not pursuing the things of the Spirit, are answered in turn by the wise hoopoe, which illustrates its arguments by a series of anecdotes.
The hoopoe next describes to the other birds the perilous
road which they must traverse to arrive at the Símurgh's pre-
Pilgrimage of
the birds.
sence, and relates to them the long story of
Shaykh Ṣan'án, who fell in love with a Christian
girl, and was constrained by his love and her
tyranny to feed swine, thus exposing himself to the censure of
all his former friends and disciples. The birds then decide to
set out under the guidance of the hoopoe to look for the
Símurgh, but they shortly begin again to make excuses or
raise difficulties, which the hoopoe answers, illustrating his
replies by numerous anecdotes. The objections of twenty-
“Through trouble and shame the souls of these birds were reduced to utter Annihilation, while their bodies became dust.*
Being thus utterly purified of all, they all received Life from the Light of the [Divine] Presence.
Once again they became servants with souls renewed; once again in another way were they overwhelmed with astonishment.
Their ancient deeds and undeeds * were cleansed away and annihilated from their bosoms.
The Sun of Propinquity shone forth from them; the souls of all of them were illuminated by its rays.
Through the reflection of the faces of these thirty birds (sí murgh) of the world they then beheld the countenance of the Símurgh.
When they looked, that was the Símurgh: without doubt that Símurgh was those thirty birds (sí murgh).
All were bewildered with amazement, not knowing whether they were this or that.
They perceived themselves to be naught else but the Símurgh, while the Símurgh was naught else than the thirty birds (sí murgh).
When they looked towards the Símurgh, it was indeed the Símurgh which was there;
While, when they looked towards themselves, they were sí murgh (thirty birds), and that was the Símurgh;
And if they looked at both together, both were the Símurgh, neither more nor less.
This one was that, and that one this; the like of this hath no one heard in the world.
All of them were plunged in amazement, and continued thinking without thought.
Since they understood naught of any matter, without speech they made enquiry of that Presence.
They besought the disclosure of this deep mystery, and demanded the solution of ‘we-ness’ and ‘thou-ness.’
Without speech came the answer from that Presence, saying: ‘This Sun-like Presence is a Mirror.
Whosoever enters It sees himself in It; in It he sees body and soul, soul and body.
Since ye came hither thirty birds (sí murgh), ye appeared as thirty in this Mirror.
Should forty or fifty birds come, they too would discover themselves.
Though many more had been added to your numbers, ye yourselves see, and it is yourself you have looked on.’”
Jalálu'd-Dín Muḥammad, better known by his later title
of Mawláná (“our Master”) Jalálu'd-Dín-i-Rúmí (i.e., “of
Jalálu'd-Dín
Rúmí.
Rúm,” or Asia Minor, where the greater part of
his life was spent), is without doubt the most
eminent Ṣúfí poet whom Persia has produced,
while his mystical Mathnawí deserves to rank amongst the
great poems of all time. He was born at Balkh in the
autumn of A.D. 1207, but soon after that date the jealousy
of 'Alá'u'd-Dín Muḥammad Khwárazmsháh compelled his
father, Muḥammad b. Ḥusayn al-Khaṭíbí al-Bakrí, commonly
known as Bahá'u'd-Dín Walad, to leave his home and migrate
westwards. He passed through Níshápúr, according to the
well-known story, in A.D. 1212, and visited Shaykh Farídu'd-