Thursday, August 31, 2006

"The intellect of intellect"


The philosopher is a slave of intellectual pretensions;
the pure saint rides the Intellect of intellects like a prince.
The Intellect of intellect is your kernel;
the intellect is only a husk.
The belly of animals keeps seeking husks.
The intellect blackens books with writing;
the Intellect of intellect fills the universe
with light from the moon of reality.
It is free from blackness or whiteness:
the light of its moon rises and shines
upon the heart and the soul.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Band-e ma`qulât âmad falsafi
shahsavâr-e `Aql-e `aql âmad safi
`Aql-e `aqlet maghz va `aql-e tost pust
me`deh-ye hayavân hamisheh pust just
`Aql daftar-hâ konad yeksar siyâh
`Aql-e `aql âfâq dârad por ze mâh
Az siyâhi vaz sapidi fâreghast
nur-e mâhesh bar del o jân bâzeghast

-- Mathnawi III: 2527-2528; 2530-2532
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra)

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Wednesday, August 30, 2006

A parable of God's gift


Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 765, from the Diwan-e
Shams, in poetic translation by Nader Khalili, in a version by
Jonathan Star, and in translation by A.J. Arberry:

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

my dear friend
never lose hope
when the beloved
sends you away

if you're abandoned
if you're left hopeless
tomorrow for sure
you'll be called again

if the door is shut
right in your face
keep waiting with patience
don't leave right away

seeing your patience
your love will soon
summon you with grace
raise you like a champion

and if all the roads
end up in dead ends
you'll be shown the secret paths
no one will comprehend

the beloved i know
will give with no qualms
to a puny ant
the kingdom of Solomon

my heart has journeyed
many times around the world
but has never found
and will never find
such a beloved again

ah i better keep silence
i know this endless love
will surely arrive
for you and you and you

-- Translation by Nader Khalili
"Rumi, Fountain of Fire"
Burning Gate Press, Los Angeles, 1994

(Sunlight note: "Fountain of Fire" incorrectly cites this Ghazal as
Furuzanfar's number 965, when it is actually Furuzanfar's number
765.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~

Do not despair
if the Beloved pushes you away.
If He pushes you away today
it's only so He can draw you back tomorrow.

If he closes the door on your face,
don't leave, wait --
you'll soon be by His side.
If He bars every passage,
don't lose hope --
He's about to show you
a secret that nobody knows.

A butcher cuts off a sheep's head for food,
not just to throw away.
When the sheep no longer has breath
the butcher fills it
with his own breath.
O what life
God's breath will bring to you!

But the likeness ends here -
For God's bounty is much greater than the butcher's.
God's blows don't bring death but eternal life.
He gives the wealth of Solomon to a single ant.
He gives the treasure of both worlds to all who ask.
He gives and gives
yet does not startle a single heart.

I've traveled to all ends of the earth
and have not found anyone like Him.
Who can match Him?
Who can hold a candle to His glory?

Silence already!
He gives us the wine to taste,
not to talk about . . . .

He gives to taste.
He gives to taste.
He gives to taste.

-- Version by Jonathan Star
"Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved "
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~

Say, do not despair because the Beloved drives you away; if
He drives you away today, will He not call you back tomorrow?
If He shuts the door on you, do not go away; be patient
there, for after patience He will seat you in the place of
honour.
And if He bars against you all ways and passages, He will
show you a secret way, which no man knows.
Is it not the case that when the butcher cuts off the head of
a sheep with his knife, he does not abandon what he has slain,
but first slays, and then draws?
When no more breath remains to the sheep, he fills it with
his own breath; you will see whither God's breath will bring
you!
I spoke this as a parable; else, His generosity slays no man,
rather it rescues him from slaying.
He gives all the kingdom of Solomon to a single ant; He
bestows both worlds, and does not startle a single heart.
My heart has travelled round the world and found none
like Him; whom does He resemble? Whom does He resem-
ble?
Ah, silence! For without speech He gives to all of this wine
to taste, He gives to taste, He gives to taste, He gives to taste.

-- Translation by A. J. Arberry
"Mystical Poems of Rumi 1"
The University of Chicago Press, 1968

The English media:
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The Persian media:
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Tuesday, August 29, 2006

"Everything except love is devoured by Love"


The wild beast wouldn't dare to devour the flesh of the lover:
Love is recognized both by the corrupt and by the good;
and if the beast should attempt to rip the lover apart with words,
the lover's flesh will become a fatal poison.
To the beak of Love the two worlds are but a single grain.
Everything except love is devoured by Love.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lahm-e `âsheq-râ niyârad khvord dad
`eshq ma`rufast pish-e nik o bad
Var khvord khvod fi al-masal dâm o dadesh
gusht-e `âsheq zahr gardad be-kashadesh
Harcheh joz `eshqast shod ma'kul-e `Eshq
do jahân yek dâneh pish-e nul-e `Eshq

-- Mathnawi V: 2724-2726
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra)

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Monday, August 28, 2006

"The Shine in the Fields"


The shine in the fields and in the orchard
has become the light of your face. No

home now, no loved occupation, no belongings,
no figuring profits and loss. When this

love comes, it's impossible to worry about
honor or reputation, what the community

gives, the more and the less. There's no
longer any demarcation line between "the

worlds." Hats fly off. A pack of dogs snarl
and bite each other around a carcass. We're

not those dogs. Only God knows our secrets,
and that's enough. We have no more dicussions

about God or arguments over doctrine. What is
planted in each person's soul with sprout.

We surrender to however that happens.
Companions used to be magnets that drew us

together to talk. No more. No more even
the sun! It has turned itself into the face

of Shams-i Tabriz, the sanctity and praise.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 1710
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin
"The Glance"
Viking-Penguin, 1999

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Friday, August 25, 2006

"The Mirror Between Us"


The mirror between us is breath
mist when I speak. Your face

in water: I reach, the work
grows muddy. Even friend and

beloved are wrong words for this.
Even ahhhhh retreats back into

my mouth, the same if the moon's
behind cloud or being released.

A pure silent look is better.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 1453
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin
"The Glance"
Viking-Penguin, 1999

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