[Sunlight] He is the Lord of hidden grace

~

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What wisdom was this, that the Object of all desire
caused me to leave my home joyously on a fool's errand,
so that I was actually rushing to lose the way
and at each moment being taken farther from what I sought--
and then God in His beneficence made that very wandering
the means of my reaching the right road and finding wealth!
He makes losing the way a way to true faith;
He makes going astray a field for the harvest of righteousness,
so that no righteous one may be without fear
and no traitor may be without hope.
The Gracious One has put the antidote in the poison
so that they may say He is the Lord of hidden grace.

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

In cheh hekmat bud keh Qebleh-ye morâd
kardam az khâneh berun gomrâh o shâd
Tâ shetâbân dar zalâlat mi shodam
har dam az matlab jodâ-tar mi bodam
Bâz ân `ayn-e zalâlat-râ beh-jud
Haqq vasilat kard andar roshd o sud
Gomrahi-râ manhaj-e imân konad
kazh ruy-râ mahsad-e ehsân konad
Tâ na-bâshad hich mohsen bi vajâ
tâ na-bâshad hich khâyen bi rajâ
Andarun-e zahr teryâq ân Hafi
kard tâ guyand Zu al-Lotf al-Khafi

-- Mathnawi VI: 4339-4344
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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~

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[Sunlight] He is the Lord of hidden grace

[Sunlight] "The Thicket"

~

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

"The Thicket"

Don't burn a blanket because of one flea!
Don't waste a day on trivial irritation,
some gnat's headache.

Take your attention off the forms
and focus on what's inside.

If you're on this way, choose companions
who are also pilgrims. No matter their shape,
color, or national origin, if they are your
people, go with them.

This confused story,
like the doings of lovers, may be told up and
down and sideways, because it's not a story.

It has no beginning or end. It's water.
Each incident-drop is self-contained, and yet
not.

This is just the bare cash of how we are
in this instant, you and I.

A sufi sees that whatever happened in the past
is completely gone. In that last story we told,
we are all now the man with his gift of water,
and the generous caliph, and the jug.

Know this: there's a marriage in each of us.
One partner is reason, universal clarity.
The other is desire and ambition. Those qualities
darken the candles of reason.

How did this come to be? It happens
because the whole has parts, and the parts
are not in relation to the whole as the smell
of the rose remains somehow part of the rose.

And with the rose that I'm talking about,
all the growing things are inside it, just
as the turtledove's coo enters and becomes
the nightingale.

But if I go more deeply
into this difficult question, will I be able
to give water to those of you who are thirsty?

If you're in some particular trouble,
a tight spot, be patient. Patience
is the way out of anxiety.

And try to avoid distracting thoughts.
Thoughts are like wild donkeys in the thicket
of human existence. Stay away from the market

bazaar of thought-traffic, and find your
strength.

Such acts of abstinence are the ultimate medicine.
Let these words enter your open ear,
and they will become a gold earring.

And then you will become a ring around the moon
ascending toward the Pleiades.

Know that created beings are as diverse as Z
and A. From one perspective unified.
From another they seem opposites.

To one being, resurrection is laughter.
To another, its a deadly judging-time,
when all frauds will be exposed.

A thorn loves the fall, because then he knows
that he won't be compared to the rose,
but the gardener knows, and a True Human Being
is always saying, "Look, it's spring!"

The body is here blooming and shining,
because form must be,
and then be dropped, before the knobs
of spiritual fruit can appear.

Bread must be broken, before it gives us
strength. Clusters of grapes must be crushed
to make wine. Myrobalan
must be pounded into powder,
so it can heal.

Husam! Take out two clean
sheets of paper. Add a description
of the true Sheikh. Your slender body
is so frail, but without the gift of your spirit-sun
we could see nothing. You are the wick,
the end of the thread, the clue we follow.

Write about the guide,
the summer full-moon.

Husam is young, but the truth has made him so old
that he has no birthdate. Old wine and old gold
are the most precious. Find such a teacher,
because without one you're in danger.
You need an escort on this mountain road.
If you go alone, you'll get dizzy
with the ghoul-sounds.

Read the Qu'ran where it tells about
these bits of bone and hair
that we find by the roadside.

Keep the reins tight, or your donkey will stray.
And if you do leave the road, go in the opposite
direction from where your donkey wants to go.

That will get you back on the path.
Don't be constant friends
with sexual desire.

Stay with those who have a true guide,
Their company protects.

-- Mathnawi I, 2892-2959
Version by Coleman Barks
"Feeling the Shoulder of the Lion"
Threshold Books, 1991

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~

------------------------------------

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[Sunlight] "The Thicket"

[Sunlight] "Willing Slaves" -- Ghazal 1077

~

Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 1077, in a poetic version by Jonathan Star and a literal translation by A.J. Arberry:

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

"Willing Slaves"

From deep within my heart
I always catch
the scent of my Beloved.
How can I help but
follow that fragrance?

Last night I was walking through Love's garden
where a glimmer of my soul
became a teeming river of light!
Laughing roses sprang up along the banks.
Dazzling waters rolled past the thorns of being
with speed enough to elude the sword of death.
Every tree and blade of grass danced in the meadow.
But to an eye without this vision,
all seemed plain and ordinary.
Suddenly a great cypress shot up from the ground!
The whole garden roared with delight -
the jamines exploded,
the broad-leafed trees clapped their hands.

A face of fire,
A cup of fire,
A heart of fire -
all were blazing with joy.
Surrounded by flames, my soul called out,
"O God, where shall I run?"

In the world of Oneness
there is nothing but yourself,
there is no room for counting.
But in the world of things
there is so much counting.
You may count a thousand apples in your hand -
If you want them all to be one,
make applesauce.
You may count a thousand grapes in your hand -
If you want the precious wine
crush them all together.

The message behind the words
is the voice of the heart.
The source of all activity
is that utter stillness.

Now Shams-e Tabriz is in the royal seat
and all my rhymes
have lined up like willing slaves.

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

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

Each moment I catch from my bosom the scent of the Be-
loved; how should I not take my self every night into my bosom?
Last night I was in Love's garden; that desire ran into my
head; his sun peeped out of my eye, so that the river began to
flow.
Every laughing rose that springs from the bank of that river of
love had escaped from the thorn of being and eluded Dhu 'I-Faqar;*
Every tree and grass was a-dancing in the meadow, but in the
eye of the vulgar was bound and at rest.
Suddenly from one side our Cypress appeared, so that the
garden was beside itself and the plane-tree clapped its hands.
Face like fire, wine like fire, love afire--all three delightful;
soul because of the intermingled fires lamenting, "Whither shall
I flee?"
In the world of Divine Unity there is no room for number, but
number exists of necessity in the world of five and four.*
You may count a myriad sweet apples in your hand; if you
want to make one, squeeze them all together.
A myriad grapes went forth from the veil of skin; when skin
no more remained, there remained the wine of the Prince.
Without counting the letters, behold what is this speech of the
heart; unicolority-is it not a form derived from the root* of the
affair?
Shams-i Tabrizi is seated like a king, and before him my verses
are ranged like willing slaves.

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

* Dhu 'l-Faqar: Ali's sword, symbolizing death.
* The five senses and the four elements.
* "The Root": God, the source of all being.

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~

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[Sunlight] "Willing Slaves" -- Ghazal 1077

[Sunlight] Behold the faithfulness of spring -- Ghazal 1000

~

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

The red rose, which tears its cloak to shreds -- I
for one know its motive.
The willow has let down its branches in straight
rows to make up for all the ritual prayers it has missed.
The lily with its sword and the jasmine with its
shield are preparing themselves for the holy war.
The poor nightingale--how he suffers! He sighs
at the rose's display.
Each of the lovely brides in the garden says,
"The rose is glancing at me."
The nightingale replies, "The rose makes those
amorous gestures for my sake, headless and footless me!"
The plane-tree has lifted up its hands in
lamentation--shall I tell you what supplications he makes?
Who put the hat on the bud's head? Who bent
the violet over double?
Although autumn was very cruel, behold the
faithfulness of spring!
Whatever autumn took in pillage, spring has
come and replaced.
I speak of roses, nightingales and the beauties of
the garden as a pretext -- why do I do it?
For the sake of Love's Jealousy -- at any rate, I
am describing God's graces.
The pride of Tabriz and the world, Shams al-
Din, has again shown me favor.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 1000
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

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

~

------------------------------------

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[Sunlight] Behold the faithfulness of spring -- Ghazal 1000

[Sunlight] Burning with longing fire -- Quatrain 1133

~

Today, Sunlight offers two interpretations of Quatrain 1133:

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

Burning with longing fire,
wanting to sleep with my head on your doorsill,
my living is composed only of this trying
to be in your presence.

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

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

i seek fire
that's my longing for you
i seek a way out
that's how i'm at your door
i'm sick and tired
of being so unhappy
only you can show me
the time of my life

--Translation by Nader Khalili
Rumi, Dancing the Flame
Cal-Earth Press, 2001

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

~

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[Sunlight] Burning with longing fire -- Quatrain 1133