{"id":690,"date":"2017-10-09T14:53:40","date_gmt":"2017-10-09T14:53:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-jeffersoncc-introliterature\/?post_type=chapter&p=690"},"modified":"2017-12-18T13:07:36","modified_gmt":"2017-12-18T13:07:36","slug":"the-persian-mystics-jalalud-din-rumi-by-frederick-hadland-davis-maulana-jalal-al-din-rumi","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-jeffersoncc-introliterature\/chapter\/the-persian-mystics-jalalud-din-rumi-by-frederick-hadland-davis-maulana-jalal-al-din-rumi\/","title":{"raw":"The Persian Mystics: Jal\u00e1lu'd-d\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed by Frederick Hadland Davis & Rumi","rendered":"The Persian Mystics: Jal\u00e1lu’d-d\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed by Frederick Hadland Davis & Rumi"},"content":{"raw":"
\r\n\r\nJAL\u00c1LU'D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd<\/strong>\r\n\r\nBY<\/strong>\r\n
    \r\n \t
  1. HADLAND DAVIS<\/strong><\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\nAUTHOR OF \"IN THE VALLEY OF STARS<\/strong>\r\n\r\nTHERE IS A TOWER OF SILENCE\"<\/strong>\r\n
    <\/div>\r\nWISDOM OF THE EAST<\/strong>\r\n\r\nTHE PERSIAN MYSTICS<\/strong>\r\n
    <\/div>\r\nLONDON<\/strong>\r\n\r\nJOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.<\/strong>\r\n\r\n1920<\/strong>\r\n
    <\/div>\r\nTO\r\nA. T. K.\r\nTHIS LITTLE BOOK OF EASTERN WISDOM\r\nIS LOVINGLY INSCRIBED\r\n
    <\/div>\r\n\"OUR JOURNEY IS TO THE ROSE-GARDEN OF UNION\"\r\nJAL\u00c1LU'D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd.\r\n
    <\/div>\r\nCONTENTS<\/strong>\r\n\r\nINTRODUCTION<\/a>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nI.<\/td>\r\nORIGIN OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nII.<\/td>\r\nTHE EARLY S\u00daF\u00cdS<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nIII.<\/td>\r\nTHE NATURE OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nIV.<\/td>\r\nTHE INFLUENCE OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nV.<\/td>\r\nANALYSIS OF THE RELIGION OF LOVE<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n<\/tbody>\r\n<\/table>\r\nTHE LIFE AND WORK OF JAL\u00c1LU'D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd<\/a>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nI.<\/td>\r\nLIFE<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nII.<\/td>\r\nSHAMSI TABR\u012aZ<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nIII.<\/td>\r\nTHE STORIES OF AL-AFL\u0100K\u00cd AND THE\r\nDEATH OF JAL\u00c1LU'D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n
    <\/td>\r\nIV.<\/td>\r\nTHE NATURE AND SIGNIFICANCE OF\r\nJAL\u00c1LU'D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd'S POETRY<\/a><\/td>\r\n<\/tr>\r\n<\/tbody>\r\n<\/table>\r\nSELECTIONS FROM THE \"D\u012aV\u0100NI SHAMSI TABR\u012aZ<\/a>\"\r\nSELECTIONS FROM THE \"MASNAVI\"<\/a>\r\nAPPENDIX: A NOTE ON PERSIAN POETRY<\/a>\r\n
    <\/div>\r\nINTRODUCTION<\/strong>\r\n
    <\/div>\r\n
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    1. THE ORIGIN OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/strong><\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\nAmong the Mohammedans S\u00faf\u00edism, or Persian mysticism, is known as tasawwuf<\/em>. The word Sidi is derived from s\u00faf<\/em>, meaning \"wool.\" When a little Persian sect at the end of the eighth century A.D. broke away from the orthodox Muslim religion, and struck out on an independent path, they ignored costly robes and worldly ostentation, and clad themselves in a white wool garment. Hence they were known as \"wool wearers,\" or S\u00faf\u00eds.\r\n\r\nProf. Edward G. Browne[1]<\/a> gives four theories in regard to the origin of S\u00faf\u00edism, viz.: (1) Esoteric Doctrine of the Prophet<\/em>.(2) Reaction of the Aryan mind against a Semitic religion<\/em>. (3) Neo-Platonist influence<\/em>.(4) Independent origin<\/em>. Neither of the four theories altogether satisfies the learned professor, and very certain it is that the last-mentioned theory is of very little account. Prof. Browne seems in favour of a \"spontaneous growth\" existing in various forms, under various names throughout the civilised world; but after all this is not very tangible evidence. Moreover, we must bear in mind that the Neo-Platonist philosophers paid a visit to the Persian court in the sixth century A.D., and founded a school there in the reign of N\u00fash\u00edr-wan. It is highly probable, therefore, that these seven philosophers, forced to leave their homes through the tyranny of Justinian, who forbade the teaching of philosophy at Athens, should have had considerable influence upon a few of the more thoughtful Persians. We shall now find that this theory is borne out by internal evidence.\r\n\r\nLet us briefly study the tenets of Neo-Platonism. The Neo-Platonists believed in the Supreme Good as the Source of all things. Self-existent, it generated from itself. Creation was the reflection of its own Being. Nature, therefore, was permeated with God. Matter was essentially non-existent, a temporary and ever-moving shadow for the embodiment of the Divine. The Neo-Platonists believed that by ecstasy and contemplation of the All-Good, man would rise to that Source from whence he came. These points bear directly upon the S\u00faf\u00ed teaching. They form a broad outline of the tenets of S\u00faf\u00edism. The S\u00faf\u00eds, from temperamental and other causes, elaborated these ideas, gave them a rich and beautiful setting, and, what is all-important, built about them one of the most interesting phases of mystical poetry the world has ever known, and this particular phase may be said to date from the twelfth century A.D.\r\n\r\n\"The wise man recognises the idea of the Good within him. This he develops by withdrawal into the Holy Place of his own soul. He who does not understand how the soul contains the Beautiful within itself, seeks to realise beauty without, by laborious production. His aim should rather be to concentrate and simplify, and so to expand his being; instead of going out into the Manifold, to forsake it for the One, and so to float upwards towards the Divine Fount of Being whose stream flows within him.\"\r\n\r\nThis is S\u00faf\u00edism in prose. The S\u00faf\u00ed turned the same conception into poetry<\/em>.\r\n
      <\/div>\r\n
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      1. THE EARLY S\u00daF\u00cdS.<\/strong><\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\nAb\u00fa Hash\u00edm (ob. 150 A.H.) was the first to bear the name of S\u00faf\u00ed, while Dhu'l-N\u00fan-al-Misri (245 A.H.) may be said to have given S\u00faf\u00edism its permanent shape. R\u0101bi'a, of Basra, was the first woman to join the sect, and her saintliness and wise sayings have been preserved by Far\u00eddu'd-D\u00edn 'Att\u00e1r. One day a great sickness fell upon Rabi'a, and on being asked the reason for it she replied: \"I dwelt upon the joys of Paradise and therefore my Beloved has chastened me.\"\r\n\r\nR\u0101bi'a did not believe in earthly marriage. Her remark on the subject is given as follows: \"The bonds of wedlock have descended upon me. I am not my own, but my Lord's, and must not be unfaithful to Him.\" 'Att\u00e1r also informs us that when R\u0101bi'a was asked if she hated the devil, she replied: \"My love to God leaves me no time to hate him.\" R\u0101bi'a was a woman of much independence of thought, ethical rather than metaphysical in her remarks, and strongly opposed to outward ceremonials. She is said to have died at Jerusalem, 753 A.D. It was at Ramla, in Palestine, that a Christian nobleman built a convent (Kh\u0101ng\u0101h<\/em>) for the S\u00faf\u00eds. Thus in the early days the sect defied their Prophet's condemnation of monkery by building an abode for members of the order. The S\u00faf\u00eds were strongly opposed to the idea of free-will or distinct and self-existent personality apart from the Beloved. The orthodox Muslim's idea was precisely the reverse. The S\u00faf\u00eds have always made the Koran their text-book. With infinite licence they ingeniously quote therefrom, and still more ingeniously add their own explanations when necessary. No doubt there were political reasons for adopting this method of concealing heterodox ideas under the cloak of orthodoxy. We shall see, however, as the sect grew and still further broadened its views, that these clever compromises did not prevent the appearance of martyrs among their number in the future.\r\n\r\nBy the end of the second century of the Hijira the S\u00faf\u00eds were a much-respected religious order. In the following century Quietism had not only changed to Pantheism, but Pantheism had kindled a belief that Beloved and lover were identical. The step was inevitable and at this juncture it was that S\u00faf\u00edism became essentially mystical, and it became more mystical as years advanced. About this time, viz., the beginning of the third century A.H., we come across two interesting S\u00faf\u00eds who seem to have been the prime movers in this new development, by name Bay\u00e1z\u00edd and Mansur al-Hall\u00e1j.\r\n
        <\/div>\r\nIII. THE NATURE OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/strong>\r\n
        <\/div>\r\nThe S\u00faf\u00eds are folk who have preferred God to everything, so that God has preferred them to everything.\u2014DHU'L-NUN.[3]<\/a>\r\n
        <\/div>\r\nIn the Isl\u00e1m faith there are eight Paradises arranged one within the other in ascending stages. The highest is called \"The Garden of Eden.\" All are lovely gardens full of luxuriant flowers and trees, amid which gleam the domes and minarets of gorgeous palaces, rich with precious stones, where the departed are feasted and entertained by beautiful houris<\/em>. All the Paradises are watered by rivers, such as the Kevser, the Tesn\u00edm, and the Selseb\u00edl. The great T\u016bba tree grows in the highest Paradise; its branches fall into the seven other gardens.[4]<\/a> This brief description will be sufficient to show the nature of the Muslim heaven. That it was a glorified creation of the earth in eight degrees is evident. It was sensuous rather than metaphysical. The five worlds of the S\u00faf\u00eds are:\r\n
          \r\n \t
        1. The \"Plane of the Absolute Invisible.\"\r\n2. The \"Relatively Invisible.\"\r\n3. The \"World of Similitudes.\"\r\n4. The \"Visible World\" (or the plane of \"Form, Generation and Corruption\").\r\n5. The \"World of Man.\"<\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\nThese Five Planes are often regarded as Three: the \"Invisible,\" the \"Intermediate,\" and the \"Visible,\" or yet again as simply the \"Visible\" and \"Invisible.\" Above the \"Plane of the Absolute Invisible\" is an infinity which we might, perhaps, compare with Dante's \"Spaceless Empyrean.\" The S\u00faf\u00eds regarded the existence of the soul as pre-natal. Moreover that the full perception of Earthly Beauty was the remembrance of that Supreme Beauty in the Spiritual world. The body was the veil; but by ecstasy (H\u00e1l<\/em>) the soul could behold the Divine Mysteries. As Avicenna, in his poem on the soul, has written:\r\n
          <\/div>\r\n
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          1. THE INFLUENCE OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/strong><\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\n
            <\/div>\r\nThis love here forms the centre which expands on all sides and into all regions.\u2014HEGEL.\r\n
            <\/div>\r\nAlthough Jal\u00e1lu'd-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed lived for fifty years in a Turkish city he scarcely ever used any Turkish words; but nevertheless his influence on Turkish poetry was very considerable. The Turkish poets of that day poured forth innumerable \"spiritual couplets\" of a mystical nature. Indeed nearly all the Ottoman poets were either S\u00faf\u00eds or men who wrote after the manner of the Persian S\u00faf\u00eds. Jal\u00e1l's son, Sultan Valad, wrote in Turkish the following concerning his father:\r\n\r\nWot ye well Mevl\u00e1n\u00e1 is of saints the Pole;\r\nWhatsoever thing he sayeth, do in whole.\r\nAll his words are mercies from the Heavenly King;\r\nSuch that blind folks' eyes were opened, did they sing.\r\n\r\nThe S\u00faf\u00ed influence on Turkish poetry, many years after Jal\u00e1l's death, gradually weakened as time went on, and their poetry became less mystical. The French were probably responsible for this change to a certain extent.\r\n\r\nThen, again, S\u00faf\u00edism influenced the poetry of India; but in this case there was influence on both sides, and the S\u00faf\u00eds probably borrowed some of the Buddhistic ideas, especially in regard to their later conception of Divine absorption. The following remark of Ab\u00fa Bahu al-Shibl\u00ed certainly points to the belief that the S\u00faf\u00eds inculcated certain ideas from the Vedanta Philosophy:\u2014\"Tasawwuf<\/em> is control of the faculties and observance of the breaths.<\/em>\"\r\n\r\nS\u00faf\u00ed poetry has greatly influenced Western thought. Many of the German mystics wrote as the S\u00faf\u00ed poets had written before them. Particularly might be mentioned Eckhart, Tauler and Suso. Concerning the last mentioned I may quote the following passage to demonstrate my meaning: \"Earthly friends must needs endure to be distinct and separate from those whom they love; but Thou, O fathomless sweetness of all true love, meltest into the heart of Thy beloved, and pourest Thyself fully into the essence of his soul, that nothing of Thee remains outside, but Thou art joined and united most lovingly with Thy beloved.\" There was rapturous language both with the Persian and German mystics. The great difference between them was that the German mystics, for the most part, were ascetics, the Persians were not. Then again in the nineteenth century Hegel was loud in his praise of Jal\u00e1lu'd-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed, calling him a great thinker as well as a great poet, but somehow he seems to put Jal\u00e1l's Pantheism first, his Mysticism second. Surely this was putting the cart before the horse?\r\n\r\nTo trace the scope of the influence of S\u00faf\u00ed thought in England would be extremely interesting, but the limits of this little book will not admit of our doing so. The influence was at first among the few; but optimistic lovers of the East believe that Oriental thought is daily becoming of more interest to Western minds. The student knows that Edward FitzGerald's rendering of Omar Khayy\u00e1m, was anything but a faithful translation; that FitzGerald shook up Omar's words like so many dice and set them to the music of wine, roses, and pessimism. The Omar Khayy\u00e1m Club read FitzGerald, but not Omar Khayy\u00e1m, and in consequence they have fallen into the error of associating Omar with Bacchus. But, nevertheless, we must be grateful to FitzGerald. He has given us a great poem, and stirred, let us hope, many of his countless readers to a more faithful study of Persian poetry. The indefatigable Dr. Johnson has written the following on the Persian poet, who is the subject of our present volume: \"He makes plain to the Pilgrim the secrets of the Way of Unity, and unveils the Mysteries of the Path of Eternal Truth.\" Concerning our modern poets I have quoted elsewhere a few lines of Mr. Arthur Symons on a dancing dervish. Many of the late Thomas Lake Harris's poems are of a S\u00faf\u00ed nature. In Mr. Stephen Phillip's beautiful poem \"Marpessa,\" the following lines are full of Sidi mysticism:\r\n\r\nFor they,\r\nSeeking that perfect face beyond the world,\r\nApproach in vision earthly semblances,\r\nAnd touch, and at the shadows flee away.\r\n\r\nIt is interesting to note that at least one celebrated Englishman adopted the S\u00faf\u00ed teaching. I refer to Sir Richard Burton.[7]<\/a> The S\u00faf\u00eds believed heart and soul in the beautiful lines of Cameons, the poet for whom Burton had so great an affection:\r\n\r\nDo what thy manhood bids thee do, from none but self expect applause.\r\nHe noblest lives and noblest dies who makes and keeps his self-made laws.\r\nAll other life is living death, a world where none but phantoms dwell;\r\nA breath, a wind, a sound, a voice, a tinkling of the camel-bell.\r\n
            <\/div>\r\n[1]<\/a> A Literary History of Persia<\/em>, vol. i.\r\n\r\n[2]<\/a> \"Among the Adepts and Mystics of Hindostam.\" The Occult Review<\/em>, December, 1905.\r\n\r\n[3]<\/a> For further extracts from S\u00faf\u00ed writers see A Historical Enquiry concerning the Origin and Development of S\u00faf\u00edism<\/em>, By R. A. Nicholson. The Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society<\/em>, March, 1906.\r\n\r\n[4]<\/a> See History of Ottoman Poetry<\/em>, by E. G. W. Gibb, vol. i.\r\n\r\n[5]<\/a> Translation by Professor E. G. Browne.\r\n\r\n[6]<\/a> Compare the Alexandrian doctrine of Emanations. Also J\u00e1m\u00ed's Law\u0101'ih<\/em>. Translated by E. H. Whinfield and M\u016brz\u0101 Muhammad Kazv\u012bn\u012b.\r\n\r\n[7]<\/a> Life of Sir Richard Burton<\/em>. 2 vols. By Thomas Wright.\r\n
            <\/div>\r\nTHE LIFE AND WORK OF JAL\u00c1LU'D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd<\/strong>\r\n
            <\/div>\r\n
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            1. LIFE<\/strong><\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\nJal\u00e1lu'd-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed was born at Balkh on September 30th, 1207, A.D., or according to Mohammedan reckoning, in 604 A.H. His father, Baha\u016b-'d-D\u00edn, was a man of much learning, but gave offence to the reigning king by an attack on that monarch's innovations. Another account disputes this in the place of jealousy on the part of the king. Whatever the cause, however, Baha\u016b-'d-D\u00edn left Balkh, together with his family, and settled at Nishapur. It was here that the celebrated S\u00faf\u00ed, Far\u00eddu'd-D\u00edn 'Att\u00e1r, presented young Jal\u00e1lu'd-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed with his Asrarnama<\/em>,[1]<\/a> and informed his father that the child would some day become famous throughout the world. After the destruction of Balkh the family went to Qonia,[2]<\/a> an old Roman province, where the poet acquired his name R\u00fam\u00ed, or \"the Roman.\" Young Jal\u00e1l must have been a child prodigy if we are to believe the many wonderful stories of his early days. At six years of age he is said to have seen visions, taught his playmates philosophy, and performed many marvellous feats, such as flying into the celestial regions. On the death of his father Jal\u00e1l took the professorial chair. He also founded an order of Dervishes known as Maulavis, where he authorised music and religious dance. When asked why he introduced singing and dance at a funeral, such practice being contrary to custom, Jal\u00e1l replied: \"When the human spirit, after years of imprisonment in the cage and dungeon of the body, is at length set free, and wings its flight to the Source whence it came, is not this an occasion for rejoicings, thanks, and dancing?\" Jal\u00e1l was an indomitable optimist. In his sayings, and still more in his poetry, we find an almost untrammelled ecstasy. The religious dances, known as Riz\u0101 Kul\u012b, may in some way account for Jal\u00e1l's occasional lack of care displayed in his poetry, and also for the outbursts not far removed from insanity. We are informed by Daulat Sh\u00e1h that \"There was a pillar in the Maulavi's house, and when he was drowned in the ocean of Love he used to take hold of that pillar and set himself turning round it.\" It was while turning round the pillar that he not infrequently dictated much of his poetry. As Mr. Arthur Symons has sung:\r\n\r\nI turn until my sense,\r\nDizzied with waves of air,\r\nSpins to a point intense,\r\nAnd spires and centres there.[3]<\/a>\r\n\r\nWe can well imagine Jal\u00e1l writing the following under the conditions just mentioned:\r\n\r\n\"Come! Come! Thou art the Soul, the Soul so dear, revolving!\r\nCome! Come! Thou art the Cedar, the Cedar's Spear, revolving!\r\nOh, come! The well of Light up-bubbling springs;\r\nAnd Morning Stars exult, in Gladness sheer, revolving!\"[4]<\/a>\r\n\r\nIn 1226 A.D. Jal\u00e1l was married at Lerenda to Gevher (Pearl). She bore two sons and died early in life. Jal\u00e1l married again and his second wife survived him.\r\n
              <\/div>\r\n
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              1. SHAMSI TABRIZ<\/strong><\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\nA word must now be said about Shamsi Tabr\u012bz, an intimate friend of Jal\u00e1l. We have sufficient evidence to prove that Shamsi Tabr\u012bz, Jal\u00e1l's nom de guerre<\/em>, was an actual person, and not a mythical creation on the part of the poet. This mysterious being, who flitted across Jal\u00e1l's life so tragically, seems to have had great personal influence over the poet, who went with him into solitary places and there discussed profound mysteries. The scholars of Jal\u00e1l looked upon the whole affair as an unworthy infatuation on the part of their Master, and on the part of Shams a shameful seduction. Their protests brought about the flight of Shams, who fled to Tabr\u012bz. But it was only a momentary separation. Jal\u00e1l followed this strange figure and brought him back again. Most of his lighter poetry was composed during this separation. Another disturbance, however, caused the departure of Shams to Damascus. We then have no clear record of him. Various legends exist in regard to the death of this mysterious person. It may be safely stated, however, that Shams met with a violent death, the exact nature of which it is impossible to say definitely.\r\n\r\nThis strange union is by no means unique in the history of the world's literature. The union, however, in this particular case, is extremely difficult to rightly fathom. We may reasonably infer that Jal\u00e1l's intense poetic temperament became fascinated by the dogmatic and powerful Shams. The very treatment of this friendship, both in the Lyrical Poems, and in the Masnavi<\/em>, is S\u00faf\u00ed The two following quotations, from many that might be cited, will prove sufficient to illustrate this point:\r\n\r\nThe face of Shamsi D\u00edn, Tabr\u012bz's glory, is the sun\r\nIn whose track the cloud-like hearts are moving.\r\n\r\nO Shamsi Tabr\u012bz, beauty and glory of the horizons,\r\nWhat king but is a beggar of thee with heart and soul?\r\n
                <\/div>\r\nIII. THE STORIES OF AL-AFL\u0100K\u00cd AND THE DEATH OF JAL\u00c1LU'D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd. [5]<\/a><\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe historian al-Afl\u0101k\u00ed, in his collection of anecdotes called Menaqibu 'L 'Arifin,[6]<\/a> gives a number of stories relating to the miracles and wise sayings of Jal\u00e1l. Many of these miraculous performances were followed by the conversion of those who witnessed them. A marvel or a wise saying of Jal\u00e1l was generally accompanied by music and dance, which reminds us of the jubilations of the Indian gods after Rama's victories over his enemies. These stories, interesting enough in themselves, can scarcely be credited to such a learned man as Jal\u00e1l undoubtedly was. According to tradition he spoke to frogs and fishes, raised the dead to life, and at the same time very ignominiously lost his temper when a disciple who said, after having received Jal\u00e1l's instructions: \"God willing.\" After all, the significance of Jal\u00e1l lies not in these rather lamentable fairy tales, but in the fruit of his work. Jal\u00e1l, like the Lord Buddha, suffered considerably from the addition of fabulous tales and fancies of no real moment to his teachings.\r\n\r\nAl-Afl\u0101k\u00ed tells a pretty story concerning the tenderness of Jal\u00e1l for little children. As the poet passed by some children, they left their play and ran to him and bowed. Jal\u00e1l bowed in response. One little boy, some distance off, seeing the honour bestowed upon his playmates, cried to Jal\u00e1l: \"Wait for me until I come!\" And Jal\u00e1l waited and bowed to the little child. This story is worth far more than juggler's tricks.\r\n\r\nJal\u00e1lu'd-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed died at Qonia in 1273 A.D., praising God and leaving to the world a vast store of spiritual knowledge and many wise instructions to his son, Baha\u016b-'d-D\u00edn Valad. It is very gratifying to note that at the death of Jal\u00e1l his mourners were of all creeds. A Christian was asked why he wept over a Muslim grave, and he replied: \"We esteem him as the Moses, the David, the Jesus of our time; and we are his disciples, his adherents.\" This was indeed a splendid and worthy tribute to the memory of so great a man.\r\n\r\nI hope I have already demonstrated that the very nature of S\u00faf\u00ed poetry is entirely lacking in creed or dogma, and certainly the great singer of the Masnavi<\/em> has left in his songs a wealth of the wonder of Divine Love.\r\n
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                1. THE NATURE AND SIGNIFICANCE OF JAL\u00c1LU'D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd'S POETRY<\/strong><\/li>\r\n<\/ol>\r\nThe Lyrical<\/em>.\u2014We have already noted the acceptance of the Asrarnama<\/em>. Among the other literary influences, according to Mr. Nicholson, we may note the poems of Sana'\u012b, Sa'di, and N\u012bzam\u012b. The fact that Jal\u00e1l's poetry sometimes faintly resembles Omar Khayy\u00e1m's is too slight to be of any value. Mr. Nicholson very ably sums up the nature of the Masnavi<\/em> and Divan<\/em> respectively: \"The one is a majestic river, calm and deep, meandering through many a rich and varied landscape to the immeasurable ocean; the other a foaming torrent that leaps and plunges in the ethereal solitude of the hills.\" The poetry of Jal\u00e1l is not of equal merit. His work seldom if ever has the technical polish of J\u00e1m\u00ed. There is too much of it; too much produced in the belief that all his poetry was inspired. He is fond of harping on certain words, and as far as the translations are concerned he has little sense of humour.[7]<\/a> There was certainly room for a touch of humour in the poet's description of Iblis receiving from God a gift of beautiful women whereby to tempt mankind; but Jal\u00e1l entirely ignores it. These weaknesses are almost lost in the strength and purity and lyrical grandeur of many of Jal\u00e1l's poems. He carries us along on a torrent of heavenly music. The rhythmic, swing of his wonderful dance is soul-stirring. We seem to move exultantly, ecstatically, to the sound of the poet's singing, far behind the silver stars into the Presence of the Beloved. With what reverence, with what a glow of simile and subtle suggestion he describes the Beauty of the Beloved! With what exquisite passion he foretells the Eternal Union! Then there is a lull in this fierce spiritual song, and Jal\u00e1l sings, ever so gently and with an infinite tenderness, about human tears being turned into \"rain-clouds.\" He sings about the meeting of two friends in Paradise, with the oft-repeated refrain, \"Thou and I.\" There seems in this poem an indescribable and almost pathetic play on the idea of human friendship and the Divine Friendship, a yearning tenderness for that human shadow, passing shadow though it be. Jal\u00e1l appears to have the power of producing almost orchestral effects in his music of the Spheres. There is that terrific touch of Wagner about his poetry, and in those suggestive Wagner-pauses there is a tenderness of expression more touching, more truly great than the loud triumphant notes. Jal\u00e1l has truly said: \"Our journey is to the Rose-Garden of Union.\" He sang about, the Divine Rose-Garden; but he did not forget to sing about the roses that fade and the human hearts that ache. We seem to see Jal\u00e1l ever bowing to the little child in all his wonderful singing.\r\n\r\nThe Masnavi<\/em>.\u2014Jal\u00e1l is said to have been forty-three years engaged in writing the Masnavi<\/em>. Often whole nights were spent in its composition, Jal\u00e1l reciting and his friend Hasam copying it down and sometimes singing portions of the verse in his beautiful voice. At the completion of the first book Hasam's wife died, and two years elapsed before the work was continued. The Masnavi<\/em> is full of profound mysteries, and is a most important book in the study of S\u00faf\u00edism\u2014 mysteries which must, for the most part, be left to the discernment of the reader. Jal\u00e1l himself has said that great Love is silent. It is in Silence that we shall come to understand the supreme Mystery of Love that has no comparison. The key-note to the Masnavi<\/em> may be found in the Prologue to the first book. The poet here sings of the soul's longing to be united with the Beloved. The fact that he, and all other S\u00faf\u00ed poets, use as an analogy the love between man and woman renders the spiritual meaning extremely vague. We have, however, already considered this point in the introduction, and it needs no further explanation. The Masnavi<\/em> has all the pantheistic beauty of the Psalms, the music of the hills, the colour and scent of roses, the swaying of forests; but it has considerably more than that. These things of scent and form and colour are the Mirror of the Beloved; these earthy loves the journey down the valley into the Rose-Garden where the roses never fade, and where Love is.\r\n\r\n[1]<\/a> Book of Mysteries.\r\n\r\n[2]<\/a> Iconium.\r\n\r\n[3]<\/a> The Fool of the World<\/em>.\r\n\r\n[4]<\/a> The Festival of Spring<\/em>. Translated by the Rev. Prof. William Hastie.\r\n\r\n[5]<\/a> See The Masnavi<\/em>. Translated by Sir James W. Rodhouse.\r\n\r\n[6]<\/a> \"The Acts of the Adepts.\"\r\n\r\n[7]<\/a> Prof. C. E. Wilson informs me that Jal\u00e1l certainly had a very fair sense of humour, and that in the original there is often a clever and witty play on words.\r\n
                  <\/div>\r\nSELECTIONS FROM THE \"D\u012aV\u0100NI SHAMSI TABR\u012aZ\"<\/strong>\r\n
                  <\/div>\r\n\"I AM SILENT\"\r\n\r\nI am silent. Speak Thou, O Soul of Soul of Soul,\r\nFrom desire of whose Face every atom grew articulate.\r\n\r\nREMEMBER GOD AND FORGET SELF\r\n\r\nO spirit, make thy head in search and seeking like the water of a stream,\r\nAnd O reason, to gain Eternal Life tread ever-lastingly the way of Death.\r\nKeep God in remembrance till self is forgotten,\r\nThat thou may be lost in the Called, without distraction of caller and call.\r\n\r\nTHE BELOVED THE DIVINE CONSOLER\r\n\r\nThou who art my soul's comfort in the season of sorrow,\r\nThou who art my spirit's treasure in the bitterness of dearth!\r\nThat which the imagination has not conceived, that which the understanding has not seen,\r\nVisited my soul from Thee; hence in worship I turn toward Thee.\r\nBy Thy grace I keep fixed on Eternity my amorous gaze,\r\nExcept, O King, the pomps that perish lead me astray.\r\nThe favour of that one, who brings glad tidings of Thee,\r\nEven without Thy summons, is sweeter in mine ear than songs.\r\n* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *\r\nIf a never-ceasing bounty should offer kingdoms,\r\nIf a hidden treasure should set before me all that is,\r\nI would bend down my soul, I would lay my face in the dust,\r\nI would say, \"Of all these the love of such an One for me!\"\r\n\r\n\"THOU ART THE SOUL OF THE WORLD\"\r\n\r\nEternal Life, methinks, is the time of Union,\r\nBecause Time, for me, hath no place There.\r\nLife is the vessels, Union the clear draught in them;\r\nWithout Thee what does the pain of the vessels avail me?\r\nI had twenty thousand desires ere this;\r\nIn passion for Him not even (care of) my safety remained.\r\nBy the help of His grace I am become safe, because\r\nThe unseen King saith to me, \"Thou art the soul of the world.\"\r\n\r\nTHE SEA OF LOVE\r\n\r\nMankind, like waterfowl, are sprung from the sea\u2014the Sea of Soul;\r\nRisen from that Sea, why should the bird make here his home?\r\nNay, we are pearls in that Sea, therein we all abide;\r\nElse, why does wave follow wave from the Sea of Soul?\r\n'Tis the time of Union's attainment, 'tis the time of Eternity's beauty,\r\n'Tis the time of favour and largesse, 'tis the Ocean of perfect purity.\r\nThe billow of largesse hath appeared, the thunder of the Sea hath arrived,\r\nThe morn of blessedness hath dawned. Morn? No, 'tis the Light of God.\r\n\r\n'Twere better that the spirit which wears not true Love as a garment\r\nHad not been: its being is but shame.\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nWithout the dealing of Love there is no entrance to the Beloved.\r\n* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *\r\n'Tis Love and the Lover that live to all Eternity;\r\nSet not thy heart on aught else; 'tis only borrowed,\r\nHow long wilt thou embrace a dead beloved?\r\nEmbrace the Soul which is embraced by nothing.\r\nWhat was born of spring dies in autumn,\r\nLove's rose-plot hath no aiding from the early spring.\r\n\r\n\"THE HOUSE OF LOVE\"\r\n\r\nThis is the Lord of Heaven, who resembles Venus and the moon,\r\nThis is the House of Love, which has no bound or end.\r\nLike a mirror, the soul has received Thy image in its heart;\r\nThe tip of Thy curl has sunk into my heart like a comb.\r\nForasmuch as the women cut their hands in Joseph's presence,\r\nCome to me, O soul, for the Beloved is in the midst.\r\n\r\nTHE FINDING OF THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nI was on that day when the Names were not,\r\nNor any sign of existence endowed with name,\r\nBy me Names and Named were brought to view\r\nOn the day when there was not \"I\" and \"We,\"\r\nFor a sign, the tip of the Beloved's curl became a centre of revelation;\r\nAs yet the tip of that curl was not.\r\nCross and Christians, from end to end,\r\nI surveyed; He was not on the Cross.\r\nI went to the idol-temple, to the ancient pagoda;\r\nNo trace was visible there.\r\nI went to the mountains of Her\u0101t and Candah\u0101r;\r\nI looked; He was not in that hill-and-dale.\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nI gazed into my own heart;\r\nThere I saw Him; He was nowhere else.\r\n\r\nTHE MOON-SOUL AND THE SEA\r\n\r\nAt morning-tide a moon appeared in the sky,\r\nAnd descended from the sky and gazed on me.\r\nLike a falcon which snatches a bird at the time of hunting,\r\nThat moon snatched me up and coursed over the sky.\r\nWhen I looked at myself, I saw myself no more,\r\nBecause in that moon my body became by grace even as soul.\r\nWhen I travelled in soul, I saw naught save the moon,\r\nTill the secret of the Eternal Theophany was revealed.\r\nThe nine spheres of heaven were all merged in that moon,\r\nThe vessel of my being was completely hidden in the sea.\r\nThe sea broke into waves, and again Wisdom rose\r\nAnd cast abroad a voice; so it happened and thus it befell.\r\nFoamed the sea, and at every foam-fleck\r\nSomething took figure and something was bodied forth.\r\nEvery foam-fleck of body, which received a sign from that sea,\r\nMelted straightway and turned to spirit in this Ocean.\r\n\r\nLIFE IN DEATH\r\n\r\nWhen my bier moveth on the day of Death,\r\nThink not my heart is in this world.\r\nDo not weep in the devil's snare: that is woe.\r\nWhen thou seest my hearse, cry not \"Parted, parted!\"\r\nUnion and meeting are mine in that hour.\r\nIf thou commit me to the grave, say not \"Farewell, farewell!\"\r\nFor the grave is a curtain hiding the communion of Paradise,\r\nAfter beholding descent, consider resurrection;\r\nWhy should setting be injurious to the sun and moon?\r\nTo thee it seems a setting, but 'tis a rising;\r\nTho' the vault seems a prison, 'tis the release of the soul.\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nShut thy mouth on this side and open it beyond,\r\nFor in placeless air will be thy triumphal song.\r\n\r\nTHE WHOLE AND THE PART\r\n\r\nBeware! do not keep, in a circle of reprobates,\r\nThine eye shut like a bud, thy mouth open like the rose.\r\nThe world resembles a mirror: thy Love is the perfect image:\r\nO people, who has ever seen a part greater than the whole?\r\n\r\nTHE DIVINE FRIEND\r\n\r\nLook on me, for thou art my companion in the grave\r\nOn the night when thou shalt pass from shop and dwelling.\r\nThou shalt hear my hail in the hollow of the tomb: it shall become known to thee\r\nThat thou wast never concealed from mine eye.\r\nI am as reason and intellect within thy bosom\r\nAt the time of joy and gladness, at the time of sorrow and distress.\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nIn the hour when the intellectual lamp is lighted,\r\nWhat a pears goes up from the dead men in the tombs!\r\n\r\nASPIRATION\r\n\r\nHaste, haste! for we too, O soul, are coming\r\nFrom this world of severance to that world of Union.\r\nO how long shall we, like children, in the earthly sphere\r\nFill our lap with dust and stones and sherds?\r\nLet us give up the earth and fly heavenwards,\r\nLet us flee from childhood to the banquet of men.\r\nBehold how the earthly frame has entrapped thee!\r\nRend the sack and raise thy head clear.\r\n\r\n\"I WELL CHERISH THE SOUL\"\r\n\r\n\"I am a painter, a maker of pictures; every moment I shape a beauteous form,\r\nAnd then in Thy presence I melt them all away.\r\nI call up a hundred phantoms and indue them with a spirit;\r\nWhen I behold Thy phantom, I cast them in the fire.\"\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nLo! I will cherish the soul, because it has a perfume of Thee.\r\nEvery drop of blood which proceeds from me is saying to Thy dust:\r\n\"I am one colour with Thy love, I am a partner of Thy affection.\"\r\nIn the house of water and clay this heart is desolate without Thee;\r\nO Beloved, enter the house, or I will leave it.\r\n\r\nTHE JOURNEY TO THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nO lovers, O lovers, it is time to abandon the world:\r\nThe drum of departure reaches my spiritual ear from heaven.\r\nBehold, the driver has risen and made ready his files of camels,\r\nAnd begged us to acquit him of blame: why, O travellers, are you asleep?\r\nThese sounds before and behind are the din of departure and of the camel-bells;\r\nWith each moment a soul and spirit is setting off into the Void.\r\nFrom these inverted candles, from these blue awnings\r\nThere has come forth a wondrous people, that the mysteries may be revealed.\r\nA heavy slumber fell upon thee from the circling spheres:\r\nAlas, for this life so light, beware of this slumber so heavy!\r\nO soul, seek the Beloved, O friend, seek the Friend,\r\nO watchman, be wakeful: it behoves not a watchman to sleep.\r\n\r\nTHE DAY OF RESURRECTION\r\n\r\nOn every side is clamour and tumult, in every street are candles and torches,\r\nFor to-night the teeming world gives birth to the World Everlasting.\r\nThou wert dust and art spirit, thou wert ignorant and art wise.\r\nHe who has led thee thus far will lead thee further also.\r\nHow pleasant are the pains He makes thee suffer while He gently draws thee to Himself!\r\n\r\nTHE RETURN OF THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nAlways at night returns the Beloved: do not eat opium to-night;\r\nClose your mouth against food, that you may taste the sweetness of the mouth.\r\nLo, the cup-bearer is no tyrant, and in his assembly there is a circle:\r\nCome into the circle, be seated; how long will you regard the revolution (of Time)?\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nWhy, when God's earth is so wide, have you fallen asleep in a prison?\r\nAvoid entangled thoughts, that you may see the explanation of Paradise.\r\nRefrain from speaking, that you may win speech hereafter.\r\nAbandon life and the world, that you may behold the Life of the world.\r\n\r\nTHE CALL OF THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nEvery morning a voice comes to thee from heaven:\r\n\"When thou lay'st the dust of the way, thou win'st thy way to the goal.\"\r\nOn the road to the Ka'ba of Union, lo, in every thorn-bush\r\nAre thousands slain of desire who manfully yielded up their lives.\r\nThousands sank wounded on this path, to whom there came not\r\nA breath of the fragrance of Union, a token from the neighbourhood of the Friend.\r\n\r\n\"THE BANQUET OF UNION\"\r\n\r\nIn memory of the banquet of Union, in yearning for His beauty\r\nThey are fallen bewildered by the wine Thou knowest.\r\nHow sweet, in the hope of Him, on the threshold of His Abode,\r\nFor the sake of seeing His face, to bring night round to day!\r\nIllumine thy bodily senses by the Light of the soul:\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nLook not in the world for bliss and fortune, since thou wilt not find them;\r\nSeek bliss in both worlds by serving Him,\r\nPut away the tale of Love that travellers tell;\r\nDo thou serve God with all thy might.\r\n\r\n\"THE WORLD GAVE THEE FALSE CLUES\"\r\n\r\nThe world gave thee false clues, like a ghoul:\r\nThou took'st no heed of the clue, but wentest to that which is without a clue.\r\nSince thou art now the sun, why dost thou wear a tiara?\r\nWhy seek a girdle, since thou art gone from the middle?\r\nI have heard that thou art gazing with distorted eyes upon thy soul:\r\nWhy dost thou gaze on thy soul, since thou art gone to the Soul of soul?\r\nO heart, what a wondrous bird art thou, that in chase of divine rewards\r\nThou didst fly with two wings to the spear-point, like a shield!\r\nThe rose flees from autumn\u2014O what a fearless rose art thou,\r\nWho didst go loitering along in the presence of the autumn wind!\r\nFalling like rain from heaven upon the roof of the terrestrial world\r\nThou didst run in every direction till thou didst escape by conduit.\r\nBe silent and free from the pain of speech: do not slumber,\r\nSince thou hast taken refuge with so loving a Friend.\r\n\r\n\"HE COMES\"\r\n\r\nHe comes, a moon whose like the sky ne'er saw, awake or dreaming,\r\nCrowned with Eternal Flame no flood can lay.\r\nLo, from the flagon of Thy Love, O Lord, my soul is swimming,\r\nAnd ruined all my body's house of clay!\r\nWhen first the Giver of the grape my lonely heart befriended,\r\nWine fired my bosom and my veins filled up,\r\nBut when His image all mine eye possessed, a voice descended:\r\n\"Well done, O sovereign Wine and peerless Cup!\"\r\nLove's mighty arm from roof to base each dark abode is hewing\r\nWhere chinks reluctant catch a golden ray.\r\nMy heart, when Love's sea of a sudden burst into its viewing,\r\nLeaped headlong in, with \"Find me now who may!\"\r\n\r\n\"I SAW THE WINTER WEAVING\"\r\n\r\nI saw the winter weaving from flakes a robe of Death;\r\nAnd the spring found earth in mourning, all naked, lone, and bare.\r\nI heard Time's loom a-whirring that wove the Sun's dim Veil;\r\nI saw a worm a-weaving in Life-threads its own lair.\r\nI saw the Great was Smallest, and saw the Smallest Great;\r\nFor God had set His likeness on all the things that were.\r\n\r\n\"LOVE SOUNDS THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES\"\r\n\r\nO, soul, if thou, too, wouldst be free,\r\nThen love the Love that shuts thee in.\r\n'Tis Love that twisteth every snare;\r\n'Tis Love that snaps the bond of sin;\r\nLove sounds the Music of the Spheres;\r\nLove echoes through Earth's harshest din.\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nThe world is God's pure mirror clear,\r\nTo eyes when free from clouds within.\r\nWith Love's own eyes the Mirror view,\r\nAnd there see God to self akin.\r\n\r\n\"THE SOULS LOVE-MOVED\"\r\n\r\nThe souls love-moved are circling on,\r\nLike streams to their great Ocean King.\r\nThou art the Sun of all men's thoughts;\r\nThy kisses are the flowers of spring.\r\nThe dawn is pale from yearning Love;\r\nThe moon in tears is sorrowing.\r\nThou art the Rose, and deep for Thee,\r\nIn sighs, the nightingales still sing.\r\n\r\n\"THOU AND I\"\r\n\r\nHappy the moment when we are seated in the Palace, thou and I,\r\nWith two forms and with two figures but with one soul, thou and I.\r\nThe colours of the grove and the voice of the birds will bestow immortality\r\nAt the time when we come into the garden, thou and I.\r\nThe stars of heaven will come to gaze upon us;\r\nWe shall show them the moon itself, thou and I.\r\nThou and I, individuals no more, shall be mingled in ecstasy,\r\nJoyful, and secure from foolish babble, thou and I.\r\nAll the bright-plumed birds of heaven will devour their hearts with envy\r\nIn the place where we shall laugh in such a fashion, thou and I.\r\nThis is the greatest wonder, that thou and I, sitting here in the same nook,\r\nAre at this moment both in Ir\u0101q and Khorasan, thou and I.\r\n\r\n[1]<\/a> The celestial Venus, and leader of the starry choirs to music. See R. A. Nicholson's note in Selected Poems from the D\u012bv\u0101ni Shamsi Tabr\u012bz.<\/em>\r\n\r\n[2]<\/a> A design traced in henna.\r\n
                  <\/div>\r\nSELECTIONS FROM THE \"MASNAVI\"<\/strong>\r\n
                  <\/div>\r\nSORROW QUENCHED IN THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nThrough grief my days are as labour and sorrow,\r\nMy days move on, hand in hand with anguish.\r\nYet, though my days vanish thus, 'tis no matter,\r\nDo Thou abide, O Incomparable Pure One.\r\n\r\nTHE MUSIC OF LOVE\r\n\r\nHail to thee, then, O LOVE, sweet madness!\r\nThou who healest all our infirmities!\r\nWho art the Physician of our pride and self conceit!\r\nWho art our Plato and our Galen!\r\nLove exalts our earthly bodies to heaven,\r\nAnd makes the very hills to dance with joy!\r\nO lover, 'twas Love that gave life to Mount Sinai,\r\nWhen \"it quaked, and Moses fell down in a swoon.\"\r\nDid my Beloved only touch me with His lips,\r\nI too, like a flute, would burst out into melody.\r\n\r\nTHE SILENCE OF LOVE\r\n\r\nLove is the astrolabe of God's mysteries.\r\nA lover may hanker after this love or that love,\r\nBut at the last he is drawn to the KING of Love.\r\nHowever much we describe and explain Love,\r\nWhen we fall in love we are ashamed of our words.\r\nExplanation by the tongue makes most things clear,\r\nBut Love unexplained is better.\r\n\r\nEARTHLY LOVE ESSENTIAL TO THE LOVE DIVINE\r\n\r\nIn one 'twas said, \"Leave power and weakness alone;\r\nWhatever withdraws thine eyes from God is an idol.\"\r\nIn one 'twas said, \"Quench not thy earthy torch,\r\nThat it may be a light to lighten mankind.\r\nIf thou neglectest regard and care for it,\r\nThou wilt quench at midnight the lamp of Union.\"\r\n\r\nWOMAN\r\n\r\nWoman is a ray of God, not a mere mistress,\r\nThe Creator's Self, as it were, not a mere creature!\r\n\r\nTHE DIVINE UNION\r\n\r\nMustafa became beside himself at that sweet call,\r\nHis prayer failed on \"the night of the early morning halt.\"\r\nHe lifted not head from that blissful sleep,[1]<\/a>\r\nSo that his morning prayer was put off till noon.\r\nOn that, his wedding night, in the presence of his bride,\r\nHis pure soul attained to kiss her hands.\r\nLove and mistress are both veiled and hidden.\r\nImpute it not a fault if I call Him \"Bride.\"\r\n\r\n\"HE KNOWS ABOUT IT ALL\"[2]<\/a>\r\n\r\nHe who is from head to foot a perfect rose or lily,\r\nTo him spring brings rejoicing.\r\nThe useless thorn desires the autumn,\r\nThat autumn may associate itself with the garden;\r\nAnd hide the rose's beauty and the thorn's shame,\r\nThat men may not see the bloom of the one and the other's shame;\r\nThat common stone and pure ruby may appear all as one.\r\nTrue, the Gardener knows the difference in the autumn,\r\nBut the sight of One<\/em> is better than the world's sight.\r\n\r\nLOVE THE SOURCE OF LIGHT RATHER THAN VANISHING FORM\r\n\r\nWhatsoever is perceived by sense He annuls,\r\nBut He stablishes that which is hidden from the senses.\r\nThe lover's love is visible, his Beloved hidden.\r\nThe Friend is absent, the distraction He causes present.\r\nRenounce these affections for outward forms,\r\nLove depends not on outward form or face.\r\nWhatever is beloved is not a mere empty form,\r\nWhether your beloved be of the earth or heaven.\r\nWhatever is the form you have fallen in love with\u2014\r\nWhy do you forsake it the moment life leaves it?\r\nThe form[3]<\/a> is still there; whence then this disgust at it?\r\nAh! lover, consider well what is really your beloved.\r\nIf a thing perceived by outward senses is the beloved,\r\nThen all who retain their senses must still love it;\r\nAnd since Love increases constancy,\r\nHow can constancy fail while form abides?\r\nBut the truth is, the sun's beams strike the wall,\r\nAnd the wall only reflects that borrowed light.\r\nWhy give your heart to mere stones, O simpleton?\r\nGo! Seek the Source of Light which shineth alway!\r\n\r\n\"PAIN IS A TREASURE!\"\r\n\r\nPain is a treasure, for it contains mercies;\r\nThe kernel is soft when the rind is scraped off.\r\nO brother, the place of darkness and cold\r\nIs the fountain of Life and the cup of ecstasy.\r\nSo also is endurance of pain and sickness and disease.\r\nFor from abasement proceeds exaltation.\r\nThe spring seasons are hidden in the autumns,\r\nAnd the autumns are charged with springs.\r\n\r\nTHE BELOVED COMPARED TO \"A SWEET GARDEN\"\r\n\r\n\"We bow down our heads before His edict and ordinance,\r\nWe stake precious life to gain His favour.\r\nWhile the thought of the Beloved fills our hearts,\r\nAll our work is to do Him service and spend life for Him.\r\nWherever He kindles His destructive torch,\r\nMyriads of lovers' souls are burnt therewith.\r\nThe lovers who dwell within the sanctuary\r\nAre moths burnt with the torch of the Beloved's face.\"\r\nO heart, haste thither, for God will shine upon you,\r\nAnd seem to you a sweet garden instead of a terror.\r\nHe will infuse into your soul a new Soul,\r\nSo as to fill you, like a goblet, with wine.\r\nTake up your abode in His Soul!\r\nTake up your abode in heaven, O bright full moon!\r\nLike the heavenly Scribe, He will open your heart's book\r\nThat He may reveal mysteries unto you.\r\n\r\n\"BEHOLD THE WATER OF WATERS!\"\r\n\r\nThe sea itself is one thing, the foam another;\r\nNeglect the foam, and regard the sea with your eyes.\r\nWaves of foam rise from the sea night and day.\r\nYou look at the foam ripples and not at the mighty sea.\r\nWe, like boats, are tossed hither and thither,\r\nWe are blind though we are on the bright ocean.\r\nAh! you who are asleep in the boat of the body,\r\nYou see the water; behold the Water of waters!\r\nUnder the water you see there is another Water moving it.\r\nWithin the spirit is a Spirit that calls it.\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nWhen you have accepted the Light, O beloved,\r\nWhen you behold what is veiled without a veil,\r\nLike a star you will walk upon the heavens.\r\n\r\nWHERE LOVE IS\r\n\r\nA damsel said to her lover, \"O fond youth,\r\nYou have visited many cities in your travels;\r\nWhich of those cities seems most delightful to you?\"\r\nHe made answer, \"The city wherein my love dwells,\r\nIn whatever nook my queen alights;\r\nThough it be as the eye of a needle, 'tis a wide plain;\r\nWherever her Yusuf-like[4]<\/a> face shines as a moon,\r\nThough it be the bottom of a well, 'tis Paradise.\r\nWith thee, my love, hell itself were heaven.\r\nWith thee a prison would be a rose-garden.\r\nWith thee hell would be a mansion of delight,\r\nWithout thee lilies and roses would be as flames of fire!\"\r\n\r\nTHE LOVE OF THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nNo lover ever seeks union with his beloved,\r\nBut his beloved is also seeking union with him.\r\nBut the lover's love[5]<\/a> makes his body lean,\r\nWhile the Beloved's love makes her fair and lusty.\r\nWhen in this<\/em> heart the lightning spark of love arises,\r\nBe sure this Love is reciprocated in that<\/em> heart.\r\nWhen the Love of God arises in thy heart,\r\nWithout doubt God also feels love for thee.\r\n\r\n\"O LOVE, LOVE, AND HEART'S DESIRE OF LOVE!\"\r\n\r\nIsrafil of the resurrection-day of Love!\r\nLove, Love, and heart's desire of Love!\r\nLet thy first boon to me be this:\r\nTo lend thine ear to my orisons,\r\nThough thou knowest my condition clearly,\r\nO protector of slaves, listen to my speech.\r\nA thousand times, O prince incomparable,\r\nHas my reason taken flight in desire to see thee,\r\nAnd to hear thee and to listen to thy words,\r\nAnd to behold thy life-giving smiles.\r\nThy inclining thine ear to my supplications\r\nIs as a caress to my misguided soul.\r\n\r\nDESTROY NOT EARTHLY BEAUTY: IT BEAUTIFIES THE SOUL\r\n\r\nTear not thy plumage off, it cannot be replaced;\r\nDisfigure not thy face in wantonness, O fair one!\r\nThat face which is bright as the forenoon sun\u2014\r\nTo disfigure it were a grievous sin.\r\n'Twere paganism to mar such a face as thine\r\nThe moon itself would weep to lose sight of it!\r\nKnowest thou not the beauty of thine own face?\r\nQuit this temper that leads thee to war with thyself!\r\nIt is the claws of thine own foolish thoughts\r\nThat in spite wound the face of thy quiet soul.\r\nKnow such thoughts to be claws fraught with poison.\r\nWhich score deep wounds on the face of thy soul.\r\n\r\n\"LOVERS AND BELOVED HAVE BOTH PERISHED\"\r\n\r\nLovers and beloved have both perished;\r\nAnd not themselves only, but their love as well.\r\n'Tis God alone who agitates these nonentities,\r\nMaking one nonentity fall in love with another.\r\nIn the heart that is no heart envy comes to a head,\r\nThus Being troubles nonentity.[8]<\/a>\r\n\r\n\"O ANGELS, BRING HIM BACK TO ME\"\r\n\r\n\"O angels, bring him back to me.\r\nSince the eyes of his heart were set on Hope,\r\nWithout care for consequence I set him free,\r\nAnd draw the pen through the record of his sins!\"\r\n\r\n\"I AM THINE, AND THOU ART MINE!\"\r\n\r\nEternal Life is gained by utter abandonment of one's own life. When God appears to His ardent lover the lover is absorbed in Him, and not so much as a hair of the lover remains. True lovers are as shadows, and when the sun shines in glory the shadows vanish away. He is a true lover to God to whom God says, \"I am thine, and thou art Mine!\"\r\n\r\nLOVE NEEDS NO MEDIATOR\r\n\r\nWhen one has attained Union with God he has no need of intermediaries. Prophets and apostles are needed as links to connect ordinary man with God, but he who hears the \"inner voice\" within him has no need to listen to outward words, even of apostles. Although that intercession is himself dwelling in God, yet my state is higher and more lovely than his. Though he is God's agent, yet I desire not his intercession to save me from evil sent me by God, for evil at God's hand seems to me good. What seems mercy and kindness to the vulgar seems wrath and vengeance to God-intoxicated saints.\r\n\r\nHUMANITY THE REFLECTION OF THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nParrots are taught to speak without understanding the words. The method is to place a mirror between the parrot and the trainer. The trainer, hidden by the mirror, utters the words, and the parrot, seeing his own reflection in the mirror, fancies another parrot is speaking, and imitates all that is said by the trainer behind the mirror. So God uses prophets and saints as mirrors whereby to instruct men, viz., the bodies of these saints and prophets; and men, when they hear the words proceeding from these mirrors, are utterly ignorant that they are really being spoken by \"Universal Reason\" or the \"Word of God\" behind the mirror of the saints.\r\n\r\n\"EARTHLY FORMS\"\r\n\r\nEarthly forms are only shadows of the Sun of Truth\u2014a cradle for babes, but too small to hold those who have grown to spiritual manhood.\r\n\r\n\"THE BEATIFIC VISION OF ETERNAL TRUTH\"\r\n\r\nThe end and object of all negation is to attain to subsequent affirmation, as the negation in the creed, \"There is no God,\" finds its complement and purpose in the affirmation \"but God.\" Just so the purpose of negation of self is to clear the way for the apprehension of the fact that there is no existence but the One. The intoxication of Life and its pleasures and occupations veils the Truth from men's eyes, and they ought to pass on to the spiritual intoxication which makes men beside themselves and lifts them to the beatific vision of eternal Truth.\r\n\r\nTHE WINE EVERLASTING\r\n\r\nO babbler, while thy soul is drunk with mere date wine,\r\nThy spirit hath not tasted the genuine grapes.\r\nFor the token of thy having seen that divine Light\r\nIs this, to withdraw thyself from the house of pride.\r\n\r\nBE LOST IN THE BEAUTY OF THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nWhen those Egyptian women sacrificed their reason,\r\nThey penetrated the mansion of Joseph's love;\r\nThe Cup-bearer of Life bore away their reason,\r\nThey were filled with wisdom of the world without end.\r\nJoseph's beauty was only an offshoot of God's beauty:\r\nBe lost, then, in God's beauty more than those women.\r\n\r\n\"WHAT EAR HAS TOLD YOU FALSELY\"\r\n\r\nWhat ear has told you falsely eye will tell truly.\r\nThen ear, too, will acquire the properties of an eye;\r\nYour ears, now worthless as wool, will become gems;\r\nYea, your whole body will become a mirror,\r\nIt will be as an eye of a bright gem in your bosom.\r\nFirst the hearing of the ear enables you to form ideas,\r\nThen these ideas guide you to the Beloved.\r\nStrive, then, to increase the number of these ideas,\r\nThat they may guide you, like Majnun, to the Beloved.\r\n\r\n\"THERE IS A PLACE OF REFUGE\"\r\n\r\nYea, O sleeping heart, know the kingdom that endures not\r\nFor ever and ever is only a mere dream.\r\nI marvel how long you will indulge in vain illusion,\r\nWhich has seized you by the throat like a heads man.\r\nKnow that even in this world there is a place of refuge;\r\nHearken not to the unbeliever who denies it.\r\nHis argument is this: he says again and again,\r\n\"If there were aught beyond this life we should see it.\"\r\nBut if the child see not the state of reason,\r\nDoes the man of reason therefore forsake reason?\r\nAnd if the man of reason sees not the state of Love,\r\nIs the blessed moon of Love thereby eclipsed?\r\n\r\nTHE LOVER'S CRY TO THE BELOVED\r\n\r\n\"My back is broken by the conflict of my thoughts;\r\nO Beloved One, come and stroke my head in mercy!\r\nThe palm of Thy hand on my head gives me rest,\r\nThy hand is a sign of Thy bounteous providence.\r\nRemove not Thy shadow from my head,\r\nI am afflicted, afflicted, afflicted!\r\nSleep has deserted my eyes\r\nThrough my longing for Thee, O Envy of cypresses!\r\n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *\r\nO take my life, Thou art the Source of Life!\r\nFor apart from Thee I am wearied of my life.\r\nI am a lover well versed in lovers' madness,\r\nI am weary of learning and sense.\"\r\n\r\nSORROW TURNED TO JOY\r\n\r\n\"He who extracts the rose from the thorn\r\nCan also turn this winter into spring.\r\nHe who exalts the heads of the cypresses\r\nIs able also out of sadness to bring joy.\"\r\n\r\nTHE GIFTS OF THE BELOVED\r\n\r\nWhere will you find one more liberal than God?\r\nHe buys the worthless rubbish which is your wealth,\r\nHe pays you the Light that illumines your heart.\r\nHe accepts these frozen and lifeless bodies of yours,\r\nAnd gives you a Kingdom beyond what you dream of,\r\nHe takes a few drops of your tears,\r\nAnd gives you the Divine Fount sweeter than sugar.\r\nHe takes your sighs fraught with grief and sadness,\r\nAnd for each sigh gives rank in heaven as interest.\r\nIn return for the sigh-wind that raised tear-clouds,\r\nGod gave Abraham the title of \"Father of the Faithful.\"\r\n\r\n\"THOU ART HIDDEN FROM US\"\r\n\r\nThou art hidden from us, though the heavens are filled\r\nWith Thy Light, which is brighter than sun and moon!\r\nThou art hidden, yet revealest our hidden secrets\r\nThou art the Source that causes our rivers to flow.\r\nThou art hidden in Thy essence, but seen by Thy bounties.\r\nThou art like the water, and we like the mill-stone.\r\nThou art like the wind, and we like the dust;\r\nThe wind is unseen, but the dust is seen by all.\r\nThou art the Spring, and we the sweet green garden;\r\nSpring is not seen, though its gifts are seen.\r\nThou art as the Soul, we as hand and foot;\r\nSoul instructs hand and foot to hold and take.\r\nThou art as Reason, we like the tongue;\r\n'Tis reason that teaches the tongue to speak.\r\nThou art as Joy, and we are laughing;\r\nThe laughter is the consequence of the joy.\r\nOur every motion every moment testifies,\r\nFor it proves the presence of the Everlasting God.\r\n\r\n'Tis God's Light that illumines the senses' light,\r\nThat is the meaning of \"Light upon light.\"\r\nThe senses' light draws us earthwards.\r\nGod's Light calls us heavenwards.\r\n\r\n[1]<\/a> The night of his marriage with Safiyya.\r\n\r\n[2]<\/a> See Rub\u00e1iy\u00e1t<\/em> of Omar Khayy\u00e1m, translated by Edward FitzGerald, second edition, quatrain lxx.\r\n\r\n[3]<\/a> \"Form\" here is used rather as-soul, the love behind the decaying body.\r\n\r\n[4]<\/a> Joseph, a name frequently used by Persian poets, irrespective of gender, to symbolise the ideal type of human beauty.\r\n\r\n[5]<\/a> Earthly love.\r\n\r\n[6]<\/a> Koran.\r\n\r\n[7]<\/a> The meaning of this poem is strictly allegorical. We must not infer that the All-Good would be a party to the evil designs of the Devil. No material gifts, however seductive, could succeed in stamping out the Divine Presence in His Creatures.\r\n\r\n[8]<\/a> At first sight there seems to be Omarian pessimism in this poem. In reality it signifies that all Love is One, which shines through the ever-vanishing lanterns of the world.\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n<\/div>","rendered":"
                  \n

                  JAL\u00c1LU’D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd<\/strong><\/p>\n

                  BY<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    \n
                  1. HADLAND DAVIS<\/strong><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

                    AUTHOR OF “IN THE VALLEY OF STARS<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    THERE IS A TOWER OF SILENCE”<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    <\/div>\n

                    WISDOM OF THE EAST<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    THE PERSIAN MYSTICS<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    <\/div>\n

                    LONDON<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    1920<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    <\/div>\n

                    TO
                    \nA. T. K.
                    \nTHIS LITTLE BOOK OF EASTERN WISDOM
                    \nIS LOVINGLY INSCRIBED<\/p>\n

                    <\/div>\n

                    “OUR JOURNEY IS TO THE ROSE-GARDEN OF UNION”
                    \nJAL\u00c1LU’D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd.<\/p>\n

                    <\/div>\n

                    CONTENTS<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    INTRODUCTION<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
                    <\/td>\nI.<\/td>\nORIGIN OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
                    <\/td>\nII.<\/td>\nTHE EARLY S\u00daF\u00cdS<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
                    <\/td>\nIII.<\/td>\nTHE NATURE OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
                    <\/td>\nIV.<\/td>\nTHE INFLUENCE OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
                    <\/td>\nV.<\/td>\nANALYSIS OF THE RELIGION OF LOVE<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

                    THE LIFE AND WORK OF JAL\u00c1LU’D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
                    <\/td>\nI.<\/td>\nLIFE<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
                    <\/td>\nII.<\/td>\nSHAMSI TABR\u012aZ<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
                    <\/td>\nIII.<\/td>\nTHE STORIES OF AL-AFL\u0100K\u00cd AND THE
                    \nDEATH OF JAL\u00c1LU’D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
                    <\/td>\nIV.<\/td>\nTHE NATURE AND SIGNIFICANCE OF
                    \nJAL\u00c1LU’D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd’S POETRY<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

                    SELECTIONS FROM THE “D\u012aV\u0100NI SHAMSI TABR\u012aZ<\/a>”
                    \n                    SELECTIONS FROM THE “MASNAVI”<\/a>
                    \n                    APPENDIX: A NOTE ON PERSIAN POETRY<\/a><\/p>\n

                    <\/div>\n

                    INTRODUCTION<\/strong><\/p>\n

                    <\/div>\n
                      \n
                    1. THE ORIGIN OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/strong><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

                      Among the Mohammedans S\u00faf\u00edism, or Persian mysticism, is known as tasawwuf<\/em>. The word Sidi is derived from s\u00faf<\/em>, meaning “wool.” When a little Persian sect at the end of the eighth century A.D. broke away from the orthodox Muslim religion, and struck out on an independent path, they ignored costly robes and worldly ostentation, and clad themselves in a white wool garment. Hence they were known as “wool wearers,” or S\u00faf\u00eds.<\/p>\n

                      Prof. Edward G. Browne[1]<\/a> gives four theories in regard to the origin of S\u00faf\u00edism, viz.: (1) Esoteric Doctrine of the Prophet<\/em>.(2) Reaction of the Aryan mind against a Semitic religion<\/em>. (3) Neo-Platonist influence<\/em>.(4) Independent origin<\/em>. Neither of the four theories altogether satisfies the learned professor, and very certain it is that the last-mentioned theory is of very little account. Prof. Browne seems in favour of a “spontaneous growth” existing in various forms, under various names throughout the civilised world; but after all this is not very tangible evidence. Moreover, we must bear in mind that the Neo-Platonist philosophers paid a visit to the Persian court in the sixth century A.D., and founded a school there in the reign of N\u00fash\u00edr-wan. It is highly probable, therefore, that these seven philosophers, forced to leave their homes through the tyranny of Justinian, who forbade the teaching of philosophy at Athens, should have had considerable influence upon a few of the more thoughtful Persians. We shall now find that this theory is borne out by internal evidence.<\/p>\n

                      Let us briefly study the tenets of Neo-Platonism. The Neo-Platonists believed in the Supreme Good as the Source of all things. Self-existent, it generated from itself. Creation was the reflection of its own Being. Nature, therefore, was permeated with God. Matter was essentially non-existent, a temporary and ever-moving shadow for the embodiment of the Divine. The Neo-Platonists believed that by ecstasy and contemplation of the All-Good, man would rise to that Source from whence he came. These points bear directly upon the S\u00faf\u00ed teaching. They form a broad outline of the tenets of S\u00faf\u00edism. The S\u00faf\u00eds, from temperamental and other causes, elaborated these ideas, gave them a rich and beautiful setting, and, what is all-important, built about them one of the most interesting phases of mystical poetry the world has ever known, and this particular phase may be said to date from the twelfth century A.D.<\/p>\n

                      “The wise man recognises the idea of the Good within him. This he develops by withdrawal into the Holy Place of his own soul. He who does not understand how the soul contains the Beautiful within itself, seeks to realise beauty without, by laborious production. His aim should rather be to concentrate and simplify, and so to expand his being; instead of going out into the Manifold, to forsake it for the One, and so to float upwards towards the Divine Fount of Being whose stream flows within him.”<\/p>\n

                      This is S\u00faf\u00edism in prose. The S\u00faf\u00ed turned the same conception into poetry<\/em>.<\/p>\n

                      <\/div>\n
                        \n
                      1. THE EARLY S\u00daF\u00cdS.<\/strong><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

                        Ab\u00fa Hash\u00edm (ob. 150 A.H.) was the first to bear the name of S\u00faf\u00ed, while Dhu’l-N\u00fan-al-Misri (245 A.H.) may be said to have given S\u00faf\u00edism its permanent shape. R\u0101bi’a, of Basra, was the first woman to join the sect, and her saintliness and wise sayings have been preserved by Far\u00eddu’d-D\u00edn ‘Att\u00e1r. One day a great sickness fell upon Rabi’a, and on being asked the reason for it she replied: “I dwelt upon the joys of Paradise and therefore my Beloved has chastened me.”<\/p>\n

                        R\u0101bi’a did not believe in earthly marriage. Her remark on the subject is given as follows: “The bonds of wedlock have descended upon me. I am not my own, but my Lord’s, and must not be unfaithful to Him.” ‘Att\u00e1r also informs us that when R\u0101bi’a was asked if she hated the devil, she replied: “My love to God leaves me no time to hate him.” R\u0101bi’a was a woman of much independence of thought, ethical rather than metaphysical in her remarks, and strongly opposed to outward ceremonials. She is said to have died at Jerusalem, 753 A.D. It was at Ramla, in Palestine, that a Christian nobleman built a convent (Kh\u0101ng\u0101h<\/em>) for the S\u00faf\u00eds. Thus in the early days the sect defied their Prophet’s condemnation of monkery by building an abode for members of the order. The S\u00faf\u00eds were strongly opposed to the idea of free-will or distinct and self-existent personality apart from the Beloved. The orthodox Muslim’s idea was precisely the reverse. The S\u00faf\u00eds have always made the Koran their text-book. With infinite licence they ingeniously quote therefrom, and still more ingeniously add their own explanations when necessary. No doubt there were political reasons for adopting this method of concealing heterodox ideas under the cloak of orthodoxy. We shall see, however, as the sect grew and still further broadened its views, that these clever compromises did not prevent the appearance of martyrs among their number in the future.<\/p>\n

                        By the end of the second century of the Hijira the S\u00faf\u00eds were a much-respected religious order. In the following century Quietism had not only changed to Pantheism, but Pantheism had kindled a belief that Beloved and lover were identical. The step was inevitable and at this juncture it was that S\u00faf\u00edism became essentially mystical, and it became more mystical as years advanced. About this time, viz., the beginning of the third century A.H., we come across two interesting S\u00faf\u00eds who seem to have been the prime movers in this new development, by name Bay\u00e1z\u00edd and Mansur al-Hall\u00e1j.<\/p>\n

                        <\/div>\n

                        III. THE NATURE OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/strong><\/p>\n

                        <\/div>\n

                        The S\u00faf\u00eds are folk who have preferred God to everything, so that God has preferred them to everything.\u2014DHU’L-NUN.[3]<\/a><\/p>\n

                        <\/div>\n

                        In the Isl\u00e1m faith there are eight Paradises arranged one within the other in ascending stages. The highest is called “The Garden of Eden.” All are lovely gardens full of luxuriant flowers and trees, amid which gleam the domes and minarets of gorgeous palaces, rich with precious stones, where the departed are feasted and entertained by beautiful houris<\/em>. All the Paradises are watered by rivers, such as the Kevser, the Tesn\u00edm, and the Selseb\u00edl. The great T\u016bba tree grows in the highest Paradise; its branches fall into the seven other gardens.[4]<\/a> This brief description will be sufficient to show the nature of the Muslim heaven. That it was a glorified creation of the earth in eight degrees is evident. It was sensuous rather than metaphysical. The five worlds of the S\u00faf\u00eds are:<\/p>\n

                          \n
                        1. The “Plane of the Absolute Invisible.”
                          \n2. The “Relatively Invisible.”
                          \n3. The “World of Similitudes.”
                          \n4. The “Visible World” (or the plane of “Form, Generation and Corruption”).
                          \n5. The “World of Man.”<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

                          These Five Planes are often regarded as Three: the “Invisible,” the “Intermediate,” and the “Visible,” or yet again as simply the “Visible” and “Invisible.” Above the “Plane of the Absolute Invisible” is an infinity which we might, perhaps, compare with Dante’s “Spaceless Empyrean.” The S\u00faf\u00eds regarded the existence of the soul as pre-natal. Moreover that the full perception of Earthly Beauty was the remembrance of that Supreme Beauty in the Spiritual world. The body was the veil; but by ecstasy (H\u00e1l<\/em>) the soul could behold the Divine Mysteries. As Avicenna, in his poem on the soul, has written:<\/p>\n

                          <\/div>\n
                            \n
                          1. THE INFLUENCE OF S\u00daF\u00cdISM<\/strong><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
                            <\/div>\n

                            This love here forms the centre which expands on all sides and into all regions.\u2014HEGEL.<\/p>\n

                            <\/div>\n

                            Although Jal\u00e1lu’d-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed lived for fifty years in a Turkish city he scarcely ever used any Turkish words; but nevertheless his influence on Turkish poetry was very considerable. The Turkish poets of that day poured forth innumerable “spiritual couplets” of a mystical nature. Indeed nearly all the Ottoman poets were either S\u00faf\u00eds or men who wrote after the manner of the Persian S\u00faf\u00eds. Jal\u00e1l’s son, Sultan Valad, wrote in Turkish the following concerning his father:<\/p>\n

                            Wot ye well Mevl\u00e1n\u00e1 is of saints the Pole;
                            \nWhatsoever thing he sayeth, do in whole.
                            \nAll his words are mercies from the Heavenly King;
                            \nSuch that blind folks’ eyes were opened, did they sing.<\/p>\n

                            The S\u00faf\u00ed influence on Turkish poetry, many years after Jal\u00e1l’s death, gradually weakened as time went on, and their poetry became less mystical. The French were probably responsible for this change to a certain extent.<\/p>\n

                            Then, again, S\u00faf\u00edism influenced the poetry of India; but in this case there was influence on both sides, and the S\u00faf\u00eds probably borrowed some of the Buddhistic ideas, especially in regard to their later conception of Divine absorption. The following remark of Ab\u00fa Bahu al-Shibl\u00ed certainly points to the belief that the S\u00faf\u00eds inculcated certain ideas from the Vedanta Philosophy:\u2014”Tasawwuf<\/em> is control of the faculties and observance of the breaths.<\/em>”<\/p>\n

                            S\u00faf\u00ed poetry has greatly influenced Western thought. Many of the German mystics wrote as the S\u00faf\u00ed poets had written before them. Particularly might be mentioned Eckhart, Tauler and Suso. Concerning the last mentioned I may quote the following passage to demonstrate my meaning: “Earthly friends must needs endure to be distinct and separate from those whom they love; but Thou, O fathomless sweetness of all true love, meltest into the heart of Thy beloved, and pourest Thyself fully into the essence of his soul, that nothing of Thee remains outside, but Thou art joined and united most lovingly with Thy beloved.” There was rapturous language both with the Persian and German mystics. The great difference between them was that the German mystics, for the most part, were ascetics, the Persians were not. Then again in the nineteenth century Hegel was loud in his praise of Jal\u00e1lu’d-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed, calling him a great thinker as well as a great poet, but somehow he seems to put Jal\u00e1l’s Pantheism first, his Mysticism second. Surely this was putting the cart before the horse?<\/p>\n

                            To trace the scope of the influence of S\u00faf\u00ed thought in England would be extremely interesting, but the limits of this little book will not admit of our doing so. The influence was at first among the few; but optimistic lovers of the East believe that Oriental thought is daily becoming of more interest to Western minds. The student knows that Edward FitzGerald’s rendering of Omar Khayy\u00e1m, was anything but a faithful translation; that FitzGerald shook up Omar’s words like so many dice and set them to the music of wine, roses, and pessimism. The Omar Khayy\u00e1m Club read FitzGerald, but not Omar Khayy\u00e1m, and in consequence they have fallen into the error of associating Omar with Bacchus. But, nevertheless, we must be grateful to FitzGerald. He has given us a great poem, and stirred, let us hope, many of his countless readers to a more faithful study of Persian poetry. The indefatigable Dr. Johnson has written the following on the Persian poet, who is the subject of our present volume: “He makes plain to the Pilgrim the secrets of the Way of Unity, and unveils the Mysteries of the Path of Eternal Truth.” Concerning our modern poets I have quoted elsewhere a few lines of Mr. Arthur Symons on a dancing dervish. Many of the late Thomas Lake Harris’s poems are of a S\u00faf\u00ed nature. In Mr. Stephen Phillip’s beautiful poem “Marpessa,” the following lines are full of Sidi mysticism:<\/p>\n

                            For they,
                            \nSeeking that perfect face beyond the world,
                            \nApproach in vision earthly semblances,
                            \nAnd touch, and at the shadows flee away.<\/p>\n

                            It is interesting to note that at least one celebrated Englishman adopted the S\u00faf\u00ed teaching. I refer to Sir Richard Burton.[7]<\/a> The S\u00faf\u00eds believed heart and soul in the beautiful lines of Cameons, the poet for whom Burton had so great an affection:<\/p>\n

                            Do what thy manhood bids thee do, from none but self expect applause.
                            \nHe noblest lives and noblest dies who makes and keeps his self-made laws.
                            \nAll other life is living death, a world where none but phantoms dwell;
                            \nA breath, a wind, a sound, a voice, a tinkling of the camel-bell.<\/p>\n

                            <\/div>\n

                            [1]<\/a> A Literary History of Persia<\/em>, vol. i.<\/p>\n

                            [2]<\/a> “Among the Adepts and Mystics of Hindostam.” The Occult Review<\/em>, December, 1905.<\/p>\n

                            [3]<\/a> For further extracts from S\u00faf\u00ed writers see A Historical Enquiry concerning the Origin and Development of S\u00faf\u00edism<\/em>, By R. A. Nicholson. The Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society<\/em>, March, 1906.<\/p>\n

                            [4]<\/a> See History of Ottoman Poetry<\/em>, by E. G. W. Gibb, vol. i.<\/p>\n

                            [5]<\/a> Translation by Professor E. G. Browne.<\/p>\n

                            [6]<\/a> Compare the Alexandrian doctrine of Emanations. Also J\u00e1m\u00ed’s Law\u0101’ih<\/em>. Translated by E. H. Whinfield and M\u016brz\u0101 Muhammad Kazv\u012bn\u012b.<\/p>\n

                            [7]<\/a> Life of Sir Richard Burton<\/em>. 2 vols. By Thomas Wright.<\/p>\n

                            <\/div>\n

                            THE LIFE AND WORK OF JAL\u00c1LU’D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd<\/strong><\/p>\n

                            <\/div>\n
                              \n
                            1. LIFE<\/strong><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

                              Jal\u00e1lu’d-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed was born at Balkh on September 30th, 1207, A.D., or according to Mohammedan reckoning, in 604 A.H. His father, Baha\u016b-‘d-D\u00edn, was a man of much learning, but gave offence to the reigning king by an attack on that monarch’s innovations. Another account disputes this in the place of jealousy on the part of the king. Whatever the cause, however, Baha\u016b-‘d-D\u00edn left Balkh, together with his family, and settled at Nishapur. It was here that the celebrated S\u00faf\u00ed, Far\u00eddu’d-D\u00edn ‘Att\u00e1r, presented young Jal\u00e1lu’d-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed with his Asrarnama<\/em>,[1]<\/a> and informed his father that the child would some day become famous throughout the world. After the destruction of Balkh the family went to Qonia,[2]<\/a> an old Roman province, where the poet acquired his name R\u00fam\u00ed, or “the Roman.” Young Jal\u00e1l must have been a child prodigy if we are to believe the many wonderful stories of his early days. At six years of age he is said to have seen visions, taught his playmates philosophy, and performed many marvellous feats, such as flying into the celestial regions. On the death of his father Jal\u00e1l took the professorial chair. He also founded an order of Dervishes known as Maulavis, where he authorised music and religious dance. When asked why he introduced singing and dance at a funeral, such practice being contrary to custom, Jal\u00e1l replied: “When the human spirit, after years of imprisonment in the cage and dungeon of the body, is at length set free, and wings its flight to the Source whence it came, is not this an occasion for rejoicings, thanks, and dancing?” Jal\u00e1l was an indomitable optimist. In his sayings, and still more in his poetry, we find an almost untrammelled ecstasy. The religious dances, known as Riz\u0101 Kul\u012b, may in some way account for Jal\u00e1l’s occasional lack of care displayed in his poetry, and also for the outbursts not far removed from insanity. We are informed by Daulat Sh\u00e1h that “There was a pillar in the Maulavi’s house, and when he was drowned in the ocean of Love he used to take hold of that pillar and set himself turning round it.” It was while turning round the pillar that he not infrequently dictated much of his poetry. As Mr. Arthur Symons has sung:<\/p>\n

                              I turn until my sense,
                              \nDizzied with waves of air,
                              \nSpins to a point intense,
                              \nAnd spires and centres there.                              [3]<\/a><\/p>\n

                              We can well imagine Jal\u00e1l writing the following under the conditions just mentioned:<\/p>\n

                              “Come! Come! Thou art the Soul, the Soul so dear, revolving!
                              \nCome! Come! Thou art the Cedar, the Cedar’s Spear, revolving!
                              \nOh, come! The well of Light up-bubbling springs;
                              \nAnd Morning Stars exult, in Gladness sheer, revolving!”                              [4]<\/a><\/p>\n

                              In 1226 A.D. Jal\u00e1l was married at Lerenda to Gevher (Pearl). She bore two sons and died early in life. Jal\u00e1l married again and his second wife survived him.<\/p>\n

                              <\/div>\n
                                \n
                              1. SHAMSI TABRIZ<\/strong><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

                                A word must now be said about Shamsi Tabr\u012bz, an intimate friend of Jal\u00e1l. We have sufficient evidence to prove that Shamsi Tabr\u012bz, Jal\u00e1l’s nom de guerre<\/em>, was an actual person, and not a mythical creation on the part of the poet. This mysterious being, who flitted across Jal\u00e1l’s life so tragically, seems to have had great personal influence over the poet, who went with him into solitary places and there discussed profound mysteries. The scholars of Jal\u00e1l looked upon the whole affair as an unworthy infatuation on the part of their Master, and on the part of Shams a shameful seduction. Their protests brought about the flight of Shams, who fled to Tabr\u012bz. But it was only a momentary separation. Jal\u00e1l followed this strange figure and brought him back again. Most of his lighter poetry was composed during this separation. Another disturbance, however, caused the departure of Shams to Damascus. We then have no clear record of him. Various legends exist in regard to the death of this mysterious person. It may be safely stated, however, that Shams met with a violent death, the exact nature of which it is impossible to say definitely.<\/p>\n

                                This strange union is by no means unique in the history of the world’s literature. The union, however, in this particular case, is extremely difficult to rightly fathom. We may reasonably infer that Jal\u00e1l’s intense poetic temperament became fascinated by the dogmatic and powerful Shams. The very treatment of this friendship, both in the Lyrical Poems, and in the Masnavi<\/em>, is S\u00faf\u00ed The two following quotations, from many that might be cited, will prove sufficient to illustrate this point:<\/p>\n

                                The face of Shamsi D\u00edn, Tabr\u012bz’s glory, is the sun
                                \nIn whose track the cloud-like hearts are moving.<\/p>\n

                                O Shamsi Tabr\u012bz, beauty and glory of the horizons,
                                \nWhat king but is a beggar of thee with heart and soul?<\/p>\n

                                <\/div>\n

                                III. THE STORIES OF AL-AFL\u0100K\u00cd AND THE DEATH OF JAL\u00c1LU’D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd. [5]<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

                                The historian al-Afl\u0101k\u00ed, in his collection of anecdotes called Menaqibu ‘L ‘Arifin,[6]<\/a> gives a number of stories relating to the miracles and wise sayings of Jal\u00e1l. Many of these miraculous performances were followed by the conversion of those who witnessed them. A marvel or a wise saying of Jal\u00e1l was generally accompanied by music and dance, which reminds us of the jubilations of the Indian gods after Rama’s victories over his enemies. These stories, interesting enough in themselves, can scarcely be credited to such a learned man as Jal\u00e1l undoubtedly was. According to tradition he spoke to frogs and fishes, raised the dead to life, and at the same time very ignominiously lost his temper when a disciple who said, after having received Jal\u00e1l’s instructions: “God willing.” After all, the significance of Jal\u00e1l lies not in these rather lamentable fairy tales, but in the fruit of his work. Jal\u00e1l, like the Lord Buddha, suffered considerably from the addition of fabulous tales and fancies of no real moment to his teachings.<\/p>\n

                                Al-Afl\u0101k\u00ed tells a pretty story concerning the tenderness of Jal\u00e1l for little children. As the poet passed by some children, they left their play and ran to him and bowed. Jal\u00e1l bowed in response. One little boy, some distance off, seeing the honour bestowed upon his playmates, cried to Jal\u00e1l: “Wait for me until I come!” And Jal\u00e1l waited and bowed to the little child. This story is worth far more than juggler’s tricks.<\/p>\n

                                Jal\u00e1lu’d-D\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed died at Qonia in 1273 A.D., praising God and leaving to the world a vast store of spiritual knowledge and many wise instructions to his son, Baha\u016b-‘d-D\u00edn Valad. It is very gratifying to note that at the death of Jal\u00e1l his mourners were of all creeds. A Christian was asked why he wept over a Muslim grave, and he replied: “We esteem him as the Moses, the David, the Jesus of our time; and we are his disciples, his adherents.” This was indeed a splendid and worthy tribute to the memory of so great a man.<\/p>\n

                                I hope I have already demonstrated that the very nature of S\u00faf\u00ed poetry is entirely lacking in creed or dogma, and certainly the great singer of the Masnavi<\/em> has left in his songs a wealth of the wonder of Divine Love.<\/p>\n

                                <\/div>\n
                                  \n
                                1. THE NATURE AND SIGNIFICANCE OF JAL\u00c1LU’D-D\u00cdN R\u00daM\u00cd’S POETRY<\/strong><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

                                  The Lyrical<\/em>.\u2014We have already noted the acceptance of the Asrarnama<\/em>. Among the other literary influences, according to Mr. Nicholson, we may note the poems of Sana’\u012b, Sa’di, and N\u012bzam\u012b. The fact that Jal\u00e1l’s poetry sometimes faintly resembles Omar Khayy\u00e1m’s is too slight to be of any value. Mr. Nicholson very ably sums up the nature of the Masnavi<\/em> and Divan<\/em> respectively: “The one is a majestic river, calm and deep, meandering through many a rich and varied landscape to the immeasurable ocean; the other a foaming torrent that leaps and plunges in the ethereal solitude of the hills.” The poetry of Jal\u00e1l is not of equal merit. His work seldom if ever has the technical polish of J\u00e1m\u00ed. There is too much of it; too much produced in the belief that all his poetry was inspired. He is fond of harping on certain words, and as far as the translations are concerned he has little sense of humour.[7]<\/a> There was certainly room for a touch of humour in the poet’s description of Iblis receiving from God a gift of beautiful women whereby to tempt mankind; but Jal\u00e1l entirely ignores it. These weaknesses are almost lost in the strength and purity and lyrical grandeur of many of Jal\u00e1l’s poems. He carries us along on a torrent of heavenly music. The rhythmic, swing of his wonderful dance is soul-stirring. We seem to move exultantly, ecstatically, to the sound of the poet’s singing, far behind the silver stars into the Presence of the Beloved. With what reverence, with what a glow of simile and subtle suggestion he describes the Beauty of the Beloved! With what exquisite passion he foretells the Eternal Union! Then there is a lull in this fierce spiritual song, and Jal\u00e1l sings, ever so gently and with an infinite tenderness, about human tears being turned into “rain-clouds.” He sings about the meeting of two friends in Paradise, with the oft-repeated refrain, “Thou and I.” There seems in this poem an indescribable and almost pathetic play on the idea of human friendship and the Divine Friendship, a yearning tenderness for that human shadow, passing shadow though it be. Jal\u00e1l appears to have the power of producing almost orchestral effects in his music of the Spheres. There is that terrific touch of Wagner about his poetry, and in those suggestive Wagner-pauses there is a tenderness of expression more touching, more truly great than the loud triumphant notes. Jal\u00e1l has truly said: “Our journey is to the Rose-Garden of Union.” He sang about, the Divine Rose-Garden; but he did not forget to sing about the roses that fade and the human hearts that ache. We seem to see Jal\u00e1l ever bowing to the little child in all his wonderful singing.<\/p>\n

                                  The Masnavi<\/em>.\u2014Jal\u00e1l is said to have been forty-three years engaged in writing the Masnavi<\/em>. Often whole nights were spent in its composition, Jal\u00e1l reciting and his friend Hasam copying it down and sometimes singing portions of the verse in his beautiful voice. At the completion of the first book Hasam’s wife died, and two years elapsed before the work was continued. The Masnavi<\/em> is full of profound mysteries, and is a most important book in the study of S\u00faf\u00edism\u2014 mysteries which must, for the most part, be left to the discernment of the reader. Jal\u00e1l himself has said that great Love is silent. It is in Silence that we shall come to understand the supreme Mystery of Love that has no comparison. The key-note to the Masnavi<\/em> may be found in the Prologue to the first book. The poet here sings of the soul’s longing to be united with the Beloved. The fact that he, and all other S\u00faf\u00ed poets, use as an analogy the love between man and woman renders the spiritual meaning extremely vague. We have, however, already considered this point in the introduction, and it needs no further explanation. The Masnavi<\/em> has all the pantheistic beauty of the Psalms, the music of the hills, the colour and scent of roses, the swaying of forests; but it has considerably more than that. These things of scent and form and colour are the Mirror of the Beloved; these earthy loves the journey down the valley into the Rose-Garden where the roses never fade, and where Love is.<\/p>\n

                                  [1]<\/a> Book of Mysteries.<\/p>\n

                                  [2]<\/a> Iconium.<\/p>\n

                                  [3]<\/a> The Fool of the World<\/em>.<\/p>\n

                                  [4]<\/a> The Festival of Spring<\/em>. Translated by the Rev. Prof. William Hastie.<\/p>\n

                                  [5]<\/a> See The Masnavi<\/em>. Translated by Sir James W. Rodhouse.<\/p>\n

                                  [6]<\/a> “The Acts of the Adepts.”<\/p>\n

                                  [7]<\/a> Prof. C. E. Wilson informs me that Jal\u00e1l certainly had a very fair sense of humour, and that in the original there is often a clever and witty play on words.<\/p>\n

                                  <\/div>\n

                                  SELECTIONS FROM THE “D\u012aV\u0100NI SHAMSI TABR\u012aZ”<\/strong><\/p>\n

                                  <\/div>\n

                                  “I AM SILENT”<\/p>\n

                                  I am silent. Speak Thou, O Soul of Soul of Soul,
                                  \nFrom desire of whose Face every atom grew articulate.<\/p>\n

                                  REMEMBER GOD AND FORGET SELF<\/p>\n

                                  O spirit, make thy head in search and seeking like the water of a stream,
                                  \nAnd O reason, to gain Eternal Life tread ever-lastingly the way of Death.
                                  \nKeep God in remembrance till self is forgotten,
                                  \nThat thou may be lost in the Called, without distraction of caller and call.<\/p>\n

                                  THE BELOVED THE DIVINE CONSOLER<\/p>\n

                                  Thou who art my soul’s comfort in the season of sorrow,
                                  \nThou who art my spirit’s treasure in the bitterness of dearth!
                                  \nThat which the imagination has not conceived, that which the understanding has not seen,
                                  \nVisited my soul from Thee; hence in worship I turn toward Thee.
                                  \nBy Thy grace I keep fixed on Eternity my amorous gaze,
                                  \nExcept, O King, the pomps that perish lead me astray.
                                  \nThe favour of that one, who brings glad tidings of Thee,
                                  \nEven without Thy summons, is sweeter in mine ear than songs.
                                  \n* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
                                  \nIf a never-ceasing bounty should offer kingdoms,
                                  \nIf a hidden treasure should set before me all that is,
                                  \nI would bend down my soul, I would lay my face in the dust,
                                  \nI would say, “Of all these the love of such an One for me!”<\/p>\n

                                  “THOU ART THE SOUL OF THE WORLD”<\/p>\n

                                  Eternal Life, methinks, is the time of Union,
                                  \nBecause Time, for me, hath no place There.
                                  \nLife is the vessels, Union the clear draught in them;
                                  \nWithout Thee what does the pain of the vessels avail me?
                                  \nI had twenty thousand desires ere this;
                                  \nIn passion for Him not even (care of) my safety remained.
                                  \nBy the help of His grace I am become safe, because
                                  \nThe unseen King saith to me, “Thou art the soul of the world.”<\/p>\n

                                  THE SEA OF LOVE<\/p>\n

                                  Mankind, like waterfowl, are sprung from the sea\u2014the Sea of Soul;
                                  \nRisen from that Sea, why should the bird make here his home?
                                  \nNay, we are pearls in that Sea, therein we all abide;
                                  \nElse, why does wave follow wave from the Sea of Soul?
                                  \n‘Tis the time of Union’s attainment, ’tis the time of Eternity’s beauty,
                                  \n‘Tis the time of favour and largesse, ’tis the Ocean of perfect purity.
                                  \nThe billow of largesse hath appeared, the thunder of the Sea hath arrived,
                                  \nThe morn of blessedness hath dawned. Morn? No, ’tis the Light of God.<\/p>\n

                                  ‘Twere better that the spirit which wears not true Love as a garment
                                  \nHad not been: its being is but shame.
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nWithout the dealing of Love there is no entrance to the Beloved.
                                  \n* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
                                  \n‘Tis Love and the Lover that live to all Eternity;
                                  \nSet not thy heart on aught else; ’tis only borrowed,
                                  \nHow long wilt thou embrace a dead beloved?
                                  \nEmbrace the Soul which is embraced by nothing.
                                  \nWhat was born of spring dies in autumn,
                                  \nLove’s rose-plot hath no aiding from the early spring.<\/p>\n

                                  “THE HOUSE OF LOVE”<\/p>\n

                                  This is the Lord of Heaven, who resembles Venus and the moon,
                                  \nThis is the House of Love, which has no bound or end.
                                  \nLike a mirror, the soul has received Thy image in its heart;
                                  \nThe tip of Thy curl has sunk into my heart like a comb.
                                  \nForasmuch as the women cut their hands in Joseph’s presence,
                                  \nCome to me, O soul, for the Beloved is in the midst.<\/p>\n

                                  THE FINDING OF THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  I was on that day when the Names were not,
                                  \nNor any sign of existence endowed with name,
                                  \nBy me Names and Named were brought to view
                                  \nOn the day when there was not “I” and “We,”
                                  \nFor a sign, the tip of the Beloved’s curl became a centre of revelation;
                                  \nAs yet the tip of that curl was not.
                                  \nCross and Christians, from end to end,
                                  \nI surveyed; He was not on the Cross.
                                  \nI went to the idol-temple, to the ancient pagoda;
                                  \nNo trace was visible there.
                                  \nI went to the mountains of Her\u0101t and Candah\u0101r;
                                  \nI looked; He was not in that hill-and-dale.
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nI gazed into my own heart;
                                  \nThere I saw Him; He was nowhere else.<\/p>\n

                                  THE MOON-SOUL AND THE SEA<\/p>\n

                                  At morning-tide a moon appeared in the sky,
                                  \nAnd descended from the sky and gazed on me.
                                  \nLike a falcon which snatches a bird at the time of hunting,
                                  \nThat moon snatched me up and coursed over the sky.
                                  \nWhen I looked at myself, I saw myself no more,
                                  \nBecause in that moon my body became by grace even as soul.
                                  \nWhen I travelled in soul, I saw naught save the moon,
                                  \nTill the secret of the Eternal Theophany was revealed.
                                  \nThe nine spheres of heaven were all merged in that moon,
                                  \nThe vessel of my being was completely hidden in the sea.
                                  \nThe sea broke into waves, and again Wisdom rose
                                  \nAnd cast abroad a voice; so it happened and thus it befell.
                                  \nFoamed the sea, and at every foam-fleck
                                  \nSomething took figure and something was bodied forth.
                                  \nEvery foam-fleck of body, which received a sign from that sea,
                                  \nMelted straightway and turned to spirit in this Ocean.<\/p>\n

                                  LIFE IN DEATH<\/p>\n

                                  When my bier moveth on the day of Death,
                                  \nThink not my heart is in this world.
                                  \nDo not weep in the devil’s snare: that is woe.
                                  \nWhen thou seest my hearse, cry not “Parted, parted!”
                                  \nUnion and meeting are mine in that hour.
                                  \nIf thou commit me to the grave, say not “Farewell, farewell!”
                                  \nFor the grave is a curtain hiding the communion of Paradise,
                                  \nAfter beholding descent, consider resurrection;
                                  \nWhy should setting be injurious to the sun and moon?
                                  \nTo thee it seems a setting, but ’tis a rising;
                                  \nTho’ the vault seems a prison, ’tis the release of the soul.
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nShut thy mouth on this side and open it beyond,
                                  \nFor in placeless air will be thy triumphal song.<\/p>\n

                                  THE WHOLE AND THE PART<\/p>\n

                                  Beware! do not keep, in a circle of reprobates,
                                  \nThine eye shut like a bud, thy mouth open like the rose.
                                  \nThe world resembles a mirror: thy Love is the perfect image:
                                  \nO people, who has ever seen a part greater than the whole?<\/p>\n

                                  THE DIVINE FRIEND<\/p>\n

                                  Look on me, for thou art my companion in the grave
                                  \nOn the night when thou shalt pass from shop and dwelling.
                                  \nThou shalt hear my hail in the hollow of the tomb: it shall become known to thee
                                  \nThat thou wast never concealed from mine eye.
                                  \nI am as reason and intellect within thy bosom
                                  \nAt the time of joy and gladness, at the time of sorrow and distress.
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nIn the hour when the intellectual lamp is lighted,
                                  \nWhat a pears goes up from the dead men in the tombs!<\/p>\n

                                  ASPIRATION<\/p>\n

                                  Haste, haste! for we too, O soul, are coming
                                  \nFrom this world of severance to that world of Union.
                                  \nO how long shall we, like children, in the earthly sphere
                                  \nFill our lap with dust and stones and sherds?
                                  \nLet us give up the earth and fly heavenwards,
                                  \nLet us flee from childhood to the banquet of men.
                                  \nBehold how the earthly frame has entrapped thee!
                                  \nRend the sack and raise thy head clear.<\/p>\n

                                  “I WELL CHERISH THE SOUL”<\/p>\n

                                  “I am a painter, a maker of pictures; every moment I shape a beauteous form,
                                  \nAnd then in Thy presence I melt them all away.
                                  \nI call up a hundred phantoms and indue them with a spirit;
                                  \nWhen I behold Thy phantom, I cast them in the fire.”
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nLo! I will cherish the soul, because it has a perfume of Thee.
                                  \nEvery drop of blood which proceeds from me is saying to Thy dust:
                                  \n“I am one colour with Thy love, I am a partner of Thy affection.”
                                  \nIn the house of water and clay this heart is desolate without Thee;
                                  \nO Beloved, enter the house, or I will leave it.<\/p>\n

                                  THE JOURNEY TO THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  O lovers, O lovers, it is time to abandon the world:
                                  \nThe drum of departure reaches my spiritual ear from heaven.
                                  \nBehold, the driver has risen and made ready his files of camels,
                                  \nAnd begged us to acquit him of blame: why, O travellers, are you asleep?
                                  \nThese sounds before and behind are the din of departure and of the camel-bells;
                                  \nWith each moment a soul and spirit is setting off into the Void.
                                  \nFrom these inverted candles, from these blue awnings
                                  \nThere has come forth a wondrous people, that the mysteries may be revealed.
                                  \nA heavy slumber fell upon thee from the circling spheres:
                                  \nAlas, for this life so light, beware of this slumber so heavy!
                                  \nO soul, seek the Beloved, O friend, seek the Friend,
                                  \nO watchman, be wakeful: it behoves not a watchman to sleep.<\/p>\n

                                  THE DAY OF RESURRECTION<\/p>\n

                                  On every side is clamour and tumult, in every street are candles and torches,
                                  \nFor to-night the teeming world gives birth to the World Everlasting.
                                  \nThou wert dust and art spirit, thou wert ignorant and art wise.
                                  \nHe who has led thee thus far will lead thee further also.
                                  \nHow pleasant are the pains He makes thee suffer while He gently draws thee to Himself!<\/p>\n

                                  THE RETURN OF THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  Always at night returns the Beloved: do not eat opium to-night;
                                  \nClose your mouth against food, that you may taste the sweetness of the mouth.
                                  \nLo, the cup-bearer is no tyrant, and in his assembly there is a circle:
                                  \nCome into the circle, be seated; how long will you regard the revolution (of Time)?
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nWhy, when God’s earth is so wide, have you fallen asleep in a prison?
                                  \nAvoid entangled thoughts, that you may see the explanation of Paradise.
                                  \nRefrain from speaking, that you may win speech hereafter.
                                  \nAbandon life and the world, that you may behold the Life of the world.<\/p>\n

                                  THE CALL OF THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  Every morning a voice comes to thee from heaven:
                                  \n“When thou lay’st the dust of the way, thou win’st thy way to the goal.”
                                  \nOn the road to the Ka’ba of Union, lo, in every thorn-bush
                                  \nAre thousands slain of desire who manfully yielded up their lives.
                                  \nThousands sank wounded on this path, to whom there came not
                                  \nA breath of the fragrance of Union, a token from the neighbourhood of the Friend.<\/p>\n

                                  “THE BANQUET OF UNION”<\/p>\n

                                  In memory of the banquet of Union, in yearning for His beauty
                                  \nThey are fallen bewildered by the wine Thou knowest.
                                  \nHow sweet, in the hope of Him, on the threshold of His Abode,
                                  \nFor the sake of seeing His face, to bring night round to day!
                                  \nIllumine thy bodily senses by the Light of the soul:
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nLook not in the world for bliss and fortune, since thou wilt not find them;
                                  \nSeek bliss in both worlds by serving Him,
                                  \nPut away the tale of Love that travellers tell;
                                  \nDo thou serve God with all thy might.<\/p>\n

                                  “THE WORLD GAVE THEE FALSE CLUES”<\/p>\n

                                  The world gave thee false clues, like a ghoul:
                                  \nThou took’st no heed of the clue, but wentest to that which is without a clue.
                                  \nSince thou art now the sun, why dost thou wear a tiara?
                                  \nWhy seek a girdle, since thou art gone from the middle?
                                  \nI have heard that thou art gazing with distorted eyes upon thy soul:
                                  \nWhy dost thou gaze on thy soul, since thou art gone to the Soul of soul?
                                  \nO heart, what a wondrous bird art thou, that in chase of divine rewards
                                  \nThou didst fly with two wings to the spear-point, like a shield!
                                  \nThe rose flees from autumn\u2014O what a fearless rose art thou,
                                  \nWho didst go loitering along in the presence of the autumn wind!
                                  \nFalling like rain from heaven upon the roof of the terrestrial world
                                  \nThou didst run in every direction till thou didst escape by conduit.
                                  \nBe silent and free from the pain of speech: do not slumber,
                                  \nSince thou hast taken refuge with so loving a Friend.<\/p>\n

                                  “HE COMES”<\/p>\n

                                  He comes, a moon whose like the sky ne’er saw, awake or dreaming,
                                  \nCrowned with Eternal Flame no flood can lay.
                                  \nLo, from the flagon of Thy Love, O Lord, my soul is swimming,
                                  \nAnd ruined all my body’s house of clay!
                                  \nWhen first the Giver of the grape my lonely heart befriended,
                                  \nWine fired my bosom and my veins filled up,
                                  \nBut when His image all mine eye possessed, a voice descended:
                                  \n“Well done, O sovereign Wine and peerless Cup!”
                                  \nLove’s mighty arm from roof to base each dark abode is hewing
                                  \nWhere chinks reluctant catch a golden ray.
                                  \nMy heart, when Love’s sea of a sudden burst into its viewing,
                                  \nLeaped headlong in, with “Find me now who may!”<\/p>\n

                                  “I SAW THE WINTER WEAVING”<\/p>\n

                                  I saw the winter weaving from flakes a robe of Death;
                                  \nAnd the spring found earth in mourning, all naked, lone, and bare.
                                  \nI heard Time’s loom a-whirring that wove the Sun’s dim Veil;
                                  \nI saw a worm a-weaving in Life-threads its own lair.
                                  \nI saw the Great was Smallest, and saw the Smallest Great;
                                  \nFor God had set His likeness on all the things that were.<\/p>\n

                                  “LOVE SOUNDS THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES”<\/p>\n

                                  O, soul, if thou, too, wouldst be free,
                                  \nThen love the Love that shuts thee in.
                                  \n‘Tis Love that twisteth every snare;
                                  \n‘Tis Love that snaps the bond of sin;
                                  \nLove sounds the Music of the Spheres;
                                  \nLove echoes through Earth’s harshest din.
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nThe world is God’s pure mirror clear,
                                  \nTo eyes when free from clouds within.
                                  \nWith Love’s own eyes the Mirror view,
                                  \nAnd there see God to self akin.<\/p>\n

                                  “THE SOULS LOVE-MOVED”<\/p>\n

                                  The souls love-moved are circling on,
                                  \nLike streams to their great Ocean King.
                                  \nThou art the Sun of all men’s thoughts;
                                  \nThy kisses are the flowers of spring.
                                  \nThe dawn is pale from yearning Love;
                                  \nThe moon in tears is sorrowing.
                                  \nThou art the Rose, and deep for Thee,
                                  \nIn sighs, the nightingales still sing.<\/p>\n

                                  “THOU AND I”<\/p>\n

                                  Happy the moment when we are seated in the Palace, thou and I,
                                  \nWith two forms and with two figures but with one soul, thou and I.
                                  \nThe colours of the grove and the voice of the birds will bestow immortality
                                  \nAt the time when we come into the garden, thou and I.
                                  \nThe stars of heaven will come to gaze upon us;
                                  \nWe shall show them the moon itself, thou and I.
                                  \nThou and I, individuals no more, shall be mingled in ecstasy,
                                  \nJoyful, and secure from foolish babble, thou and I.
                                  \nAll the bright-plumed birds of heaven will devour their hearts with envy
                                  \nIn the place where we shall laugh in such a fashion, thou and I.
                                  \nThis is the greatest wonder, that thou and I, sitting here in the same nook,
                                  \nAre at this moment both in Ir\u0101q and Khorasan, thou and I.<\/p>\n

                                  [1]<\/a> The celestial Venus, and leader of the starry choirs to music. See R. A. Nicholson’s note in Selected Poems from the D\u012bv\u0101ni Shamsi Tabr\u012bz.<\/em><\/p>\n

                                  [2]<\/a> A design traced in henna.<\/p>\n

                                  <\/div>\n

                                  SELECTIONS FROM THE “MASNAVI”<\/strong><\/p>\n

                                  <\/div>\n

                                  SORROW QUENCHED IN THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  Through grief my days are as labour and sorrow,
                                  \nMy days move on, hand in hand with anguish.
                                  \nYet, though my days vanish thus, ’tis no matter,
                                  \nDo Thou abide, O Incomparable Pure One.<\/p>\n

                                  THE MUSIC OF LOVE<\/p>\n

                                  Hail to thee, then, O LOVE, sweet madness!
                                  \nThou who healest all our infirmities!
                                  \nWho art the Physician of our pride and self conceit!
                                  \nWho art our Plato and our Galen!
                                  \nLove exalts our earthly bodies to heaven,
                                  \nAnd makes the very hills to dance with joy!
                                  \nO lover, ’twas Love that gave life to Mount Sinai,
                                  \nWhen “it quaked, and Moses fell down in a swoon.”
                                  \nDid my Beloved only touch me with His lips,
                                  \nI too, like a flute, would burst out into melody.<\/p>\n

                                  THE SILENCE OF LOVE<\/p>\n

                                  Love is the astrolabe of God’s mysteries.
                                  \nA lover may hanker after this love or that love,
                                  \nBut at the last he is drawn to the KING of Love.
                                  \nHowever much we describe and explain Love,
                                  \nWhen we fall in love we are ashamed of our words.
                                  \nExplanation by the tongue makes most things clear,
                                  \nBut Love unexplained is better.<\/p>\n

                                  EARTHLY LOVE ESSENTIAL TO THE LOVE DIVINE<\/p>\n

                                  In one ’twas said, “Leave power and weakness alone;
                                  \nWhatever withdraws thine eyes from God is an idol.”
                                  \nIn one ’twas said, “Quench not thy earthy torch,
                                  \nThat it may be a light to lighten mankind.
                                  \nIf thou neglectest regard and care for it,
                                  \nThou wilt quench at midnight the lamp of Union.”<\/p>\n

                                  WOMAN<\/p>\n

                                  Woman is a ray of God, not a mere mistress,
                                  \nThe Creator’s Self, as it were, not a mere creature!<\/p>\n

                                  THE DIVINE UNION<\/p>\n

                                  Mustafa became beside himself at that sweet call,
                                  \nHis prayer failed on “the night of the early morning halt.”
                                  \nHe lifted not head from that blissful sleep,                                  [1]<\/a>
                                  \nSo that his morning prayer was put off till noon.
                                  \nOn that, his wedding night, in the presence of his bride,
                                  \nHis pure soul attained to kiss her hands.
                                  \nLove and mistress are both veiled and hidden.
                                  \nImpute it not a fault if I call Him “Bride.”<\/p>\n

                                  “HE KNOWS ABOUT IT ALL”[2]<\/a><\/p>\n

                                  He who is from head to foot a perfect rose or lily,
                                  \nTo him spring brings rejoicing.
                                  \nThe useless thorn desires the autumn,
                                  \nThat autumn may associate itself with the garden;
                                  \nAnd hide the rose’s beauty and the thorn’s shame,
                                  \nThat men may not see the bloom of the one and the other’s shame;
                                  \nThat common stone and pure ruby may appear all as one.
                                  \nTrue, the Gardener knows the difference in the autumn,
                                  \nBut the sight of One<\/em> is better than the world’s sight.<\/p>\n

                                  LOVE THE SOURCE OF LIGHT RATHER THAN VANISHING FORM<\/p>\n

                                  Whatsoever is perceived by sense He annuls,
                                  \nBut He stablishes that which is hidden from the senses.
                                  \nThe lover’s love is visible, his Beloved hidden.
                                  \nThe Friend is absent, the distraction He causes present.
                                  \nRenounce these affections for outward forms,
                                  \nLove depends not on outward form or face.
                                  \nWhatever is beloved is not a mere empty form,
                                  \nWhether your beloved be of the earth or heaven.
                                  \nWhatever is the form you have fallen in love with\u2014
                                  \nWhy do you forsake it the moment life leaves it?
                                  \nThe form                                  [3]<\/a> is still there; whence then this disgust at it?
                                  \nAh! lover, consider well what is really your beloved.
                                  \nIf a thing perceived by outward senses is the beloved,
                                  \nThen all who retain their senses must still love it;
                                  \nAnd since Love increases constancy,
                                  \nHow can constancy fail while form abides?
                                  \nBut the truth is, the sun’s beams strike the wall,
                                  \nAnd the wall only reflects that borrowed light.
                                  \nWhy give your heart to mere stones, O simpleton?
                                  \nGo! Seek the Source of Light which shineth alway!<\/p>\n

                                  “PAIN IS A TREASURE!”<\/p>\n

                                  Pain is a treasure, for it contains mercies;
                                  \nThe kernel is soft when the rind is scraped off.
                                  \nO brother, the place of darkness and cold
                                  \nIs the fountain of Life and the cup of ecstasy.
                                  \nSo also is endurance of pain and sickness and disease.
                                  \nFor from abasement proceeds exaltation.
                                  \nThe spring seasons are hidden in the autumns,
                                  \nAnd the autumns are charged with springs.<\/p>\n

                                  THE BELOVED COMPARED TO “A SWEET GARDEN”<\/p>\n

                                  “We bow down our heads before His edict and ordinance,
                                  \nWe stake precious life to gain His favour.
                                  \nWhile the thought of the Beloved fills our hearts,
                                  \nAll our work is to do Him service and spend life for Him.
                                  \nWherever He kindles His destructive torch,
                                  \nMyriads of lovers’ souls are burnt therewith.
                                  \nThe lovers who dwell within the sanctuary
                                  \nAre moths burnt with the torch of the Beloved’s face.”
                                  \nO heart, haste thither, for God will shine upon you,
                                  \nAnd seem to you a sweet garden instead of a terror.
                                  \nHe will infuse into your soul a new Soul,
                                  \nSo as to fill you, like a goblet, with wine.
                                  \nTake up your abode in His Soul!
                                  \nTake up your abode in heaven, O bright full moon!
                                  \nLike the heavenly Scribe, He will open your heart’s book
                                  \nThat He may reveal mysteries unto you.<\/p>\n

                                  “BEHOLD THE WATER OF WATERS!”<\/p>\n

                                  The sea itself is one thing, the foam another;
                                  \nNeglect the foam, and regard the sea with your eyes.
                                  \nWaves of foam rise from the sea night and day.
                                  \nYou look at the foam ripples and not at the mighty sea.
                                  \nWe, like boats, are tossed hither and thither,
                                  \nWe are blind though we are on the bright ocean.
                                  \nAh! you who are asleep in the boat of the body,
                                  \nYou see the water; behold the Water of waters!
                                  \nUnder the water you see there is another Water moving it.
                                  \nWithin the spirit is a Spirit that calls it.
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nWhen you have accepted the Light, O beloved,
                                  \nWhen you behold what is veiled without a veil,
                                  \nLike a star you will walk upon the heavens.<\/p>\n

                                  WHERE LOVE IS<\/p>\n

                                  A damsel said to her lover, “O fond youth,
                                  \nYou have visited many cities in your travels;
                                  \nWhich of those cities seems most delightful to you?”
                                  \nHe made answer, “The city wherein my love dwells,
                                  \nIn whatever nook my queen alights;
                                  \nThough it be as the eye of a needle, ’tis a wide plain;
                                  \nWherever her Yusuf-like                                  [4]<\/a> face shines as a moon,
                                  \nThough it be the bottom of a well, ’tis Paradise.
                                  \nWith thee, my love, hell itself were heaven.
                                  \nWith thee a prison would be a rose-garden.
                                  \nWith thee hell would be a mansion of delight,
                                  \nWithout thee lilies and roses would be as flames of fire!”<\/p>\n

                                  THE LOVE OF THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  No lover ever seeks union with his beloved,
                                  \nBut his beloved is also seeking union with him.
                                  \nBut the lover’s love                                  [5]<\/a> makes his body lean,
                                  \nWhile the Beloved’s love makes her fair and lusty.
                                  \nWhen in this<\/em> heart the lightning spark of love arises,
                                  \nBe sure this Love is reciprocated in that<\/em> heart.
                                  \nWhen the Love of God arises in thy heart,
                                  \nWithout doubt God also feels love for thee.<\/p>\n

                                  “O LOVE, LOVE, AND HEART’S DESIRE OF LOVE!”<\/p>\n

                                  Israfil of the resurrection-day of Love!
                                  \nLove, Love, and heart’s desire of Love!
                                  \nLet thy first boon to me be this:
                                  \nTo lend thine ear to my orisons,
                                  \nThough thou knowest my condition clearly,
                                  \nO protector of slaves, listen to my speech.
                                  \nA thousand times, O prince incomparable,
                                  \nHas my reason taken flight in desire to see thee,
                                  \nAnd to hear thee and to listen to thy words,
                                  \nAnd to behold thy life-giving smiles.
                                  \nThy inclining thine ear to my supplications
                                  \nIs as a caress to my misguided soul.<\/p>\n

                                  DESTROY NOT EARTHLY BEAUTY: IT BEAUTIFIES THE SOUL<\/p>\n

                                  Tear not thy plumage off, it cannot be replaced;
                                  \nDisfigure not thy face in wantonness, O fair one!
                                  \nThat face which is bright as the forenoon sun\u2014
                                  \nTo disfigure it were a grievous sin.
                                  \n‘Twere paganism to mar such a face as thine
                                  \nThe moon itself would weep to lose sight of it!
                                  \nKnowest thou not the beauty of thine own face?
                                  \nQuit this temper that leads thee to war with thyself!
                                  \nIt is the claws of thine own foolish thoughts
                                  \nThat in spite wound the face of thy quiet soul.
                                  \nKnow such thoughts to be claws fraught with poison.
                                  \nWhich score deep wounds on the face of thy soul.<\/p>\n

                                  “LOVERS AND BELOVED HAVE BOTH PERISHED”<\/p>\n

                                  Lovers and beloved have both perished;
                                  \nAnd not themselves only, but their love as well.
                                  \n‘Tis God alone who agitates these nonentities,
                                  \nMaking one nonentity fall in love with another.
                                  \nIn the heart that is no heart envy comes to a head,
                                  \nThus Being troubles nonentity.                                  [8]<\/a><\/p>\n

                                  “O ANGELS, BRING HIM BACK TO ME”<\/p>\n

                                  “O angels, bring him back to me.
                                  \nSince the eyes of his heart were set on Hope,
                                  \nWithout care for consequence I set him free,
                                  \nAnd draw the pen through the record of his sins!”<\/p>\n

                                  “I AM THINE, AND THOU ART MINE!”<\/p>\n

                                  Eternal Life is gained by utter abandonment of one’s own life. When God appears to His ardent lover the lover is absorbed in Him, and not so much as a hair of the lover remains. True lovers are as shadows, and when the sun shines in glory the shadows vanish away. He is a true lover to God to whom God says, “I am thine, and thou art Mine!”<\/p>\n

                                  LOVE NEEDS NO MEDIATOR<\/p>\n

                                  When one has attained Union with God he has no need of intermediaries. Prophets and apostles are needed as links to connect ordinary man with God, but he who hears the “inner voice” within him has no need to listen to outward words, even of apostles. Although that intercession is himself dwelling in God, yet my state is higher and more lovely than his. Though he is God’s agent, yet I desire not his intercession to save me from evil sent me by God, for evil at God’s hand seems to me good. What seems mercy and kindness to the vulgar seems wrath and vengeance to God-intoxicated saints.<\/p>\n

                                  HUMANITY THE REFLECTION OF THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  Parrots are taught to speak without understanding the words. The method is to place a mirror between the parrot and the trainer. The trainer, hidden by the mirror, utters the words, and the parrot, seeing his own reflection in the mirror, fancies another parrot is speaking, and imitates all that is said by the trainer behind the mirror. So God uses prophets and saints as mirrors whereby to instruct men, viz., the bodies of these saints and prophets; and men, when they hear the words proceeding from these mirrors, are utterly ignorant that they are really being spoken by “Universal Reason” or the “Word of God” behind the mirror of the saints.<\/p>\n

                                  “EARTHLY FORMS”<\/p>\n

                                  Earthly forms are only shadows of the Sun of Truth\u2014a cradle for babes, but too small to hold those who have grown to spiritual manhood.<\/p>\n

                                  “THE BEATIFIC VISION OF ETERNAL TRUTH”<\/p>\n

                                  The end and object of all negation is to attain to subsequent affirmation, as the negation in the creed, “There is no God,” finds its complement and purpose in the affirmation “but God.” Just so the purpose of negation of self is to clear the way for the apprehension of the fact that there is no existence but the One. The intoxication of Life and its pleasures and occupations veils the Truth from men’s eyes, and they ought to pass on to the spiritual intoxication which makes men beside themselves and lifts them to the beatific vision of eternal Truth.<\/p>\n

                                  THE WINE EVERLASTING<\/p>\n

                                  O babbler, while thy soul is drunk with mere date wine,
                                  \nThy spirit hath not tasted the genuine grapes.
                                  \nFor the token of thy having seen that divine Light
                                  \nIs this, to withdraw thyself from the house of pride.<\/p>\n

                                  BE LOST IN THE BEAUTY OF THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  When those Egyptian women sacrificed their reason,
                                  \nThey penetrated the mansion of Joseph’s love;
                                  \nThe Cup-bearer of Life bore away their reason,
                                  \nThey were filled with wisdom of the world without end.
                                  \nJoseph’s beauty was only an offshoot of God’s beauty:
                                  \nBe lost, then, in God’s beauty more than those women.<\/p>\n

                                  “WHAT EAR HAS TOLD YOU FALSELY”<\/p>\n

                                  What ear has told you falsely eye will tell truly.
                                  \nThen ear, too, will acquire the properties of an eye;
                                  \nYour ears, now worthless as wool, will become gems;
                                  \nYea, your whole body will become a mirror,
                                  \nIt will be as an eye of a bright gem in your bosom.
                                  \nFirst the hearing of the ear enables you to form ideas,
                                  \nThen these ideas guide you to the Beloved.
                                  \nStrive, then, to increase the number of these ideas,
                                  \nThat they may guide you, like Majnun, to the Beloved.<\/p>\n

                                  “THERE IS A PLACE OF REFUGE”<\/p>\n

                                  Yea, O sleeping heart, know the kingdom that endures not
                                  \nFor ever and ever is only a mere dream.
                                  \nI marvel how long you will indulge in vain illusion,
                                  \nWhich has seized you by the throat like a heads man.
                                  \nKnow that even in this world there is a place of refuge;
                                  \nHearken not to the unbeliever who denies it.
                                  \nHis argument is this: he says again and again,
                                  \n“If there were aught beyond this life we should see it.”
                                  \nBut if the child see not the state of reason,
                                  \nDoes the man of reason therefore forsake reason?
                                  \nAnd if the man of reason sees not the state of Love,
                                  \nIs the blessed moon of Love thereby eclipsed?<\/p>\n

                                  THE LOVER’S CRY TO THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  “My back is broken by the conflict of my thoughts;
                                  \nO Beloved One, come and stroke my head in mercy!
                                  \nThe palm of Thy hand on my head gives me rest,
                                  \nThy hand is a sign of Thy bounteous providence.
                                  \nRemove not Thy shadow from my head,
                                  \nI am afflicted, afflicted, afflicted!
                                  \nSleep has deserted my eyes
                                  \nThrough my longing for Thee, O Envy of cypresses!
                                  \n* * * * * * * *\u00a8* * * * * * *
                                  \nO take my life, Thou art the Source of Life!
                                  \nFor apart from Thee I am wearied of my life.
                                  \nI am a lover well versed in lovers’ madness,
                                  \nI am weary of learning and sense.”<\/p>\n

                                  SORROW TURNED TO JOY<\/p>\n

                                  “He who extracts the rose from the thorn
                                  \nCan also turn this winter into spring.
                                  \nHe who exalts the heads of the cypresses
                                  \nIs able also out of sadness to bring joy.”<\/p>\n

                                  THE GIFTS OF THE BELOVED<\/p>\n

                                  Where will you find one more liberal than God?
                                  \nHe buys the worthless rubbish which is your wealth,
                                  \nHe pays you the Light that illumines your heart.
                                  \nHe accepts these frozen and lifeless bodies of yours,
                                  \nAnd gives you a Kingdom beyond what you dream of,
                                  \nHe takes a few drops of your tears,
                                  \nAnd gives you the Divine Fount sweeter than sugar.
                                  \nHe takes your sighs fraught with grief and sadness,
                                  \nAnd for each sigh gives rank in heaven as interest.
                                  \nIn return for the sigh-wind that raised tear-clouds,
                                  \nGod gave Abraham the title of “Father of the Faithful.”<\/p>\n

                                  “THOU ART HIDDEN FROM US”<\/p>\n

                                  Thou art hidden from us, though the heavens are filled
                                  \nWith Thy Light, which is brighter than sun and moon!
                                  \nThou art hidden, yet revealest our hidden secrets
                                  \nThou art the Source that causes our rivers to flow.
                                  \nThou art hidden in Thy essence, but seen by Thy bounties.
                                  \nThou art like the water, and we like the mill-stone.
                                  \nThou art like the wind, and we like the dust;
                                  \nThe wind is unseen, but the dust is seen by all.
                                  \nThou art the Spring, and we the sweet green garden;
                                  \nSpring is not seen, though its gifts are seen.
                                  \nThou art as the Soul, we as hand and foot;
                                  \nSoul instructs hand and foot to hold and take.
                                  \nThou art as Reason, we like the tongue;
                                  \n‘Tis reason that teaches the tongue to speak.
                                  \nThou art as Joy, and we are laughing;
                                  \nThe laughter is the consequence of the joy.
                                  \nOur every motion every moment testifies,
                                  \nFor it proves the presence of the Everlasting God.<\/p>\n

                                  ‘Tis God’s Light that illumines the senses’ light,
                                  \nThat is the meaning of “Light upon light.”
                                  \nThe senses’ light draws us earthwards.
                                  \nGod’s Light calls us heavenwards.<\/p>\n

                                  [1]<\/a> The night of his marriage with Safiyya.<\/p>\n

                                  [2]<\/a> See Rub\u00e1iy\u00e1t<\/em> of Omar Khayy\u00e1m, translated by Edward FitzGerald, second edition, quatrain lxx.<\/p>\n

                                  [3]<\/a> “Form” here is used rather as-soul, the love behind the decaying body.<\/p>\n

                                  [4]<\/a> Joseph, a name frequently used by Persian poets, irrespective of gender, to symbolise the ideal type of human beauty.<\/p>\n

                                  [5]<\/a> Earthly love.<\/p>\n

                                  [6]<\/a> Koran.<\/p>\n

                                  [7]<\/a> The meaning of this poem is strictly allegorical. We must not infer that the All-Good would be a party to the evil designs of the Devil. No material gifts, however seductive, could succeed in stamping out the Divine Presence in His Creatures.<\/p>\n

                                  [8]<\/a> At first sight there seems to be Omarian pessimism in this poem. In reality it signifies that all Love is One, which shines through the ever-vanishing lanterns of the world.<\/p>\n

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