Friday, November 09, 2012

[Sunlight] Thou Art -- Ghazal 2602

~

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

Oh enemy of my intellect! Oh remedy of my ignorance!
I am a vat, and Thou art the wine fermenting within.
Thou art the First and the Last, Thou art the Outward
and within the head (Koran LVII 3), Thou art sultan and shah,
chamberlain and guard.
Thou art sweet natured and ill natured, heart-burning
and heart-soothing, moon-faced Joseph and an obstacle, a veil.
Thou art exceedingly fresh and verdant, very comely and
fine - Thou art in my mind like the intellect and upon my ear
like a ring.
Thou art far away and self, before and more, ill-thinking
friend, venom and elixir.
Oh Ambusher of the selfless, oh Treasurer of the dervishes! Oh Lord, how joyful are the fakirs when Thou are in their embrace!
On the day I am sober, I am full of drunken brawling - but
when I am drunk, what patience and silence!

-- Ghazal (Ode) 2602
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

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~








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Wednesday, November 07, 2012

[Sunlight] How can you go on living without me? -- Quatrain 334

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Today, Sunlight offers two interpretations of Quatrain 334:

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

The Beloved looked at me
With compassion and said,
How can you go on living without me?
I said, I swear, like a fish out of water.
He said, Then why do you hold so tight
to the dry land?

-- Version by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva
A Garden Beyond Paradise
Bantam Books, 1992

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

After being with me one whole night,
you ask how I live when you're not here.
Badly, frantically, like a fish trying to
breathe dry sand.
You weep and say,
but you choose that.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"Unseen Rain"
Threshold Books, 1986

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

~






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Tuesday, November 06, 2012

[Sunlight] Craftsmanship and emptiness

~

Today, Sunlight offers Mathnawi, Book VI, verses 1369 - 1420, in
a version by Professor Coleman Barks, and in a shorter version by
Camille and Kabir Helminski, which is accompanied by a Persian
transliteration:

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

Craftsmanship and Emptiness

I've said before that every craftsman
searches for what's not there
to practice his craft.

A builder looks for the rotten hole
where the roof caved in. A water-carrier
picks the empty pot. A carpenter
stops at the house with no door.

Workers rush toward some hint
of emptiness, which they then
start to fill. Their hope, though,
is for emptiness, so don't think
you must avoid it. It contains
what you need!
Dear soul, if you were not friends
with the vast nothing inside,
why would you always be casting your net
into it, and waiting so patiently?

This invisible ocean has given you such abundance,
but still you call it "death",
that which provides you sustenance and work.

God has allowed some magical reversal to occur,
so that you see the scorpion pit
as an object of desire,
and all the beautiful expanse around it,
as dangerous and swarming with snakes.

This is how strange your fear of death
and emptiness is, and how perverse
the attachment to what you want.

Now that you've heard me
on your misapprehensions, dear friend,
listen to Attar's story on the same subject.

He strung the pearls of this
about King Mahmud, how among the spoils
of his Indian campaign there was a Hindu boy,
whom he adopted as a son. He educated
and provided royally for the boy
and later made him vice-regent, seated
on a gold throne beside himself.

One day he found the young man weeping..
"Why are you crying? You're the companion
of an emperor! The entire nation is ranged out
before you like stars that you can command! "

The young man replied, "I am remembering
my mother and father, and how they
scared me as a child with threats of you!
'Uh-oh, he's headed for King Mahmud's court!
Nothing could be more hellish!' Where are they now
when they should see me sitting here?"

This incident is about your fear of changing.
You are the Hindu boy.
Mahmud, which means
Praise to the End, is the spirit's
poverty or emptiness.

The mother and father are your attachment
to beliefs and bloodties
and desires and comforting habits.
Don't listen to them!
They seem to protect
but they imprison.

They are your worst enemies.
They make you afraid
of living in emptiness.

Some day you'll weep tears of delight in that court,
remembering your mistaken parents!

Know that your body nurtures the spirit,
helps it grow, and gives it wrong advise.

The body becomes, eventually, like a vest
of chainmail in peaceful years,
too hot in summer and too cold in winter.

But the body's desires, in another way, are like
an unpredictable associate, whom you must be
patient with. And that companion is helpful,
because patience expands your capacity
to love and feel peace.
The patience of a rose close to a thorn
keeps it fragrant. It's patience that gives milk
to the male camel still nursing in its third year,
and patience is what the prophets show to us.

The beauty of careful sewing on a shirt
is the patience it contains.

Friendship and loyalty have patience
as the strength of their connection.

Feeling lonely and ignoble indicates
that you haven't been patient.

Be with those who mix with God
as honey blends with milk, and say,

"Anything that comes and goes,
rises and sets, is not
what I love," else you'll be like a caravan fire left
to flare itself out alone beside the road.

-- Mathnawi VI: 1369-1420
Poetic version by Coleman Barks
"One-Handed Basket Weaving"
Maypop, 1991

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Every craftsman who appeared in this world
sought a state of nonexistence to demonstrate his craft.
The builder sought a ruined place where the roof had fallen in.
The water carrier sought a pot empty of water,
a carpenter a house with no door.
At the moment of pursuing their purpose
they rush toward relative nonexistence,
but then later they flee from it.
Since you have placed your hope in nonexistence,
why do you turn away?
Why do you resist that which coincides with your desire?
You've torn your heart away from all you own,
you've cast the net of your heart into the sea of nonexistence.
Why then do you flee this sea of the heart's desire
which has poured hundreds of thousands of fish into your net?
Why have you given the name "death"
to what is really provision for the spirit?
Observe that sorcery which makes sustenance seem like death.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gofteh shod keh har senâ`at-gar keh rost
dar senâ`at jâygâh-e nist jost
Jost bannâ mawze`i nâ sâhkteh
gashteh virân saqf-hâ andâkhteh
Jost saqqâ kuzeh-'i kesh âb nist
vân dorugar khâneh-'i kesh bâb nist
Vaqt-e sayd andar `adam bod hamleh-shân
az `adam ânkeh gorizân jomleh-shân
Chon omidet lâ-st zu parhiz chist
bâ anis-e tama`-e khvod estiz chist
Chon anis-e tama`-e to ân nesbatist
az fanâ o nist in parhiz chist
Gar anis-e lâ niyi ay jân be-sar
dar kamin lâ cherâyi montazer
Zânkeh dâri jomleh del bar kandeh-'i
shast-e del dar bahr-e lâ afgandeh-'i
Pas goriz az chist zin bahr-e morâd
keh be-shastet sad hazârân sayd dâd
Az cheh nâm barg-râ kardi to "marg"
jâduyi bin keh namudet marg barg

-- Mathnawi VI:1369-1378
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~





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Friday, November 02, 2012

[Sunlight] Drunk with that sound

~

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

The more anyone loves the sound of invisible waters,
the more he tears bricks from the wall
to toss into that unseen river, drunk with that sound
which the loveless hear as just a splash.

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

Har keh `âsheq-tar bovad bar bâng-e âb
u kolukh zaft-tar konad az hejâb
U ze bâng-e âb por-e may tâ `onoq
na-shenud bigâneh joz bâng-e boloq

-- Mathnawi II: 1213-1214
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

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

~



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Thursday, November 01, 2012

[Sunlight] The kiss of the rose -- Ghazal 1888

~

Today, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 1888, from Molana Rumi's
"Diwan-e Shams", in poetic versions from Coleman Barks and
Jonathan Star, and in translation by A.J. Arberry.

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

There is some kiss we want
with our whole lives,
the touch of Spirit on the body.

Seawater begs the pearl
to break its shell.

And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild Darling!

At night, I open the window
and ask the moon to come
and press its face against mine.
Breathe into me.

Close the language-door,
and open the love-window.

The moon won't use the door,
only the window.

-- Poetic version by Coleman Barks
"Like This"
Maypop, 1990

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

Come here and catch a kiss
from those ruby lips.
And if it costs you your life,
consider it a bargain!

But that kiss is too pure to mix with dust –
You must become a floating spirit,
free from this body.

The Ocean of Purity said to me:
Nothing is attained without effort.
To get the precious pearl
you must first smash the shell.

For the rose's kiss
This whole world is parching its lily-lips.

I dare say,
Even if you have the splendor of every king,
And the beauty of Mars and Venus,
don't accept a kiss
from the beguiling Maiden.

O Moon of the dark sky – come in.
I have opened the window for you.
Tonight, touch my face,
press your lips upon mine.

Close the door of words
that the window of your heart may open –
The Moon's kiss
only comes through an open window.

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

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

Come, how much is a kiss from that precious ruby? If a kiss is
for a life, it is a duty to buy.
Since the kiss is pure and not proper to earth, I will become a
disengaged spirit, I will emerge from this body.
The sea of purity said to me, "No aspiration is granted gratis;
the pearl of price is with you – come, break the shell."
For a kiss of the rose, which confers splendor on wine, the
whole world is putting out its tongue like a lily.
I blunder, if you be all kings, if you be like Mars and the moon,
ask not for a kiss from that untamed Darling.
Enter, moon of heaven, for I have opened the window; for one
night shine on my face, press your lips on mine.
Close the door of speech and open the heart's window; you
will not obtain a kiss of this moon save by way of the window.

-- Translation by A.J. Arberry
"Mystical Poems of Rumi 2"
The University of Chicago Press, 1991

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

~






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