Attar
The valley of Love
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Love’s valley is the next, and here desire
Will plunge the pilgrim into seas of fire,
Until his very being is enflamed
And those whom fire rejects turn back ashamed.
The lover is a man who flares and bums,
Whose face is fevered, who in frenzy yearns,
Who knows no prudence, who will gladly send
A hundred worlds toward their blazing end,
Who knows of neither faith nor blasphemy,
Who has no time for doubt or certainty,
To whom both good and evil are the same,
And who is neither, but a living flame.
But you! Lukewarm in all you say or do,
Backsliding, weak –O, no, this is not you
True lovers give up everything they own
To steal one moment with the Friend alone –
They make no vague, procrastinating vow,
But risk their livelihood and risk it now.
Until their hearts are burnt, how can they flee
From their desire’s incessant misery?
They are the falcon when it flies distressed
In circles, searching for its absent nest –
They are the fish cast up upon the land
That seeks the sea and shudders on the sand.
Love here is fire; its thick smoke clouds the head –
When love has come the intellect has fled;
It cannot tutor love, and all its care
Supplies no remedy for love’s despair.
If you could seek the unseen you would find
Love’s home, which is not reason or the mind,
And love’s intoxication tumbles down
The world’s designs for glory and renown –
If you could penetrate their passing show
And see the world’s wild atoms, you would know
That reason’s eyes will never glimpse one spark
Of shining love to mitigate the dark.
Love leads whoever starts along our Way;
The noblest bow to love and must obey –
But you, unwilling both to love and tread
The pilgrim’s path, you might as well be dead!
The lover chafes, impatient to depart,
And longs to sacrifice his life and heart.
The valley of the quest
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When you begin the Valley of the Quest
Misfortunes will deprive you of all rest,
Each moment some new trouble terrifies,
And parrots there are panic-stricken flies.
There years must vanish while you strive and grieve;
There is the heart of all you will achieve –
Renounce the world, your power and all you own,
And in your heart’s blood journey on alone.
When once your hands are empty,
then your heart
Must purify itself and move apart
From everything that is – when this is done,
The Lord’s light blazes brighter than the sun,
Your heart is bathed in splendour and the quest
Expands a thousandfold within your breast.
Though fire flares up across his path, and though
A hundred monsters peer out from its glow,
The pilgrim driven on by his desire
Will like a moth rush gladly on the fire.
When love inspires his heart he begs for wine,
One drop to be vouchsafed him as a sign –
And when he drinks this drop both worlds are gone;
Dry-lipped he founders in oblivion.
His zeal to know faith’s mysteries will make
Him fight with dragons for salvation’s sake –
Though blasphemy and curses crowd the gate,
Until it opens he will calmly wait,
And then where is this faith? this blasphemy?
Both vanish into strengthless vacancy.
The valley of the Quest
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When you begin the Valley of the Quest
Misfortunes will deprive you of all rest,
Each moment some new trouble terrifies,
And parrots there are panic-stricken flies.
There years must vanish while you strive and grieve;
There is the heart of all you will achieve –
Renounce the world, your power and all you own,
And in your heart’s blood journey on alone.
When once your hands are empty,
then your heart
Must purify itself and move apart
From everything that is – when this is done,
The Lord’s light blazes brighter than the sun,
Your heart is bathed in splendour and the quest
Expands a thousandfold within your breast.
Though fire flares up across his path, and though
A hundred monsters peer out from its glow,
The pilgrim driven on by his desire
Will like a moth rush gladly on the fire.
When love inspires his heart he begs for wine,
One drop to be vouchsafed him as a sign –
And when he drinks this drop both worlds are gone;
Dry-lipped he founders in oblivion.
His zeal to know faith’s mysteries will make
Him fight with dragons for salvation’s sake –
Though blasphemy and curses crowd the gate,
Until it opens he will calmly wait,
And then where is this faith? this blasphemy?
Both vanish into strengthless vacancy.
A dervish in ecstasy
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A frenzied dervish, mad with love for God,
Sought out bare hills where none had ever trod.
Wild leopards kept this madman company –
His heart was plunged in restless ecstasy;
He lived within this state for twenty days,
Dancing and singing in exultant praise:
“There’s no division; we two are alone
The world is happiness and grief has flown.”
Die to yourself – no longer stay apart,
But give to Him who asks for it your heart;
The man whose happiness derives from Him
Escapes existence, and the world grows dim;
Rejoice for ever in the Friend,
rejoice Till you are nothing,
but a praising voice.
For seventy years my happy heart has led
A life of constant bliss,” a sufi said.
“My God has been so good to me that I
Am bound to Him until the day I die.”
You seek for faults to censure and suppress
And have no time for inward happiness –
How can you know God’s secret majesty
If you look out for sin incessantly?
To share His hidden glory you must learn
That others’ errors are not your concern –
When someone else’s failings are denned
What hairs you split – but to your own you’re blind!
Grace comes to those, no matter how they’ve strayed,
Who know their own sin’s strength, and are afraid
Sheikh Kherghani and the aubergine
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One day Sheikh Kherghani’s devout routine
Was spoilt by cravings for an aubergine.
His mother was unsure what should be done
But hesitantly gave him half a one –
The moment that he bit its flesh a crew
Of ruffians seized his son and ran him through.
That night, outside the sheikh’s front door they laid
His boy’s head hacked off by a cutlass blade.
The sheikh cried out: “How often I’d foreseen
Disaster if I tasted aubergine!”
The man who has been chosen by this Guide
Must follow Him and never swerve aside –
His service is more terrible than war,
Than shame that cringes to a conqueror.
It is not knowledge keeps a man secure –
With all his understanding, fate is sure;
Each moment we receive a different guest,
And each that comes presents another test,
Although a hundred sorrows wring your soul,
The future will not bow to your control.
But one who breaks illusion’s hold will find
Misfortune will not always cloud his mind.
A hundred thousand of His lovers sigh
To sacrifice themselves for Him and die;
How many waste their idle lives until
They bleed and groan, subservient to His will.
The valley of bewilderment
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Next comes the Valley of Bewilderment,
A place of pain and gnawing discontent
Each second you will sigh, and every breath
Will be a sword to make you long for death;
Blinded by grief, you will not recognize
The days and nights that pass before your eyes.
Blood drips from every hair and writes “Alas”
Beside the highway where the pilgrims pass;
In ice you fry,
in fire you freeze
the Way Is lost,
with indecisive steps you stray
The Unity you knew has gone;
your soul Is scattered and knows nothing of the Whole.
If someone asks: “What is your present state;
Is drunkenness or sober sense your fate,
And do you flourish now or fade away?”
The pilgrim will confess: “I cannot say
I have no certain knowledge any more;
I doubt my doubt, doubt itself is unsure;
I love, but who is it for whom I sigh?
Not Moslem, yet not heathen; who am I?
My heart is empty, yet with love is full;
My own love is to me incredible.
The fly in the beehive
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A hungry fly once saw a hive of bees;
Transported by delicious fantasies,
He buzzed: “What noble friend will be my guide?
I’d give a barley grain to get inside –
How marvellous if I could just contrive
To find myself in this delightful hive.”
A passer-by took pity on his pain,
Lifted him in and took the barley grain.
But when he reached the honey-store at last,
He found his wings and hairy joints stuck fast –
His sticky, struggling legs began to tire,
Encumbered by the honey’s clammy mire.
He cried: “When free I didn’t know my luck;
This honey’s worse than poison. Help! I’m stuck!
To get into this mess I gave a grain;
I’d offer double to get out again!”
Within this valley no man can be free –
Your life has passed in thoughtless liberty;
But only adults can traverse this waste:
Let childhood go; a new life must be faced!
The valley waits; prepare now to depart;
Relinquish your beloved, selfish heart –
That pagan idol, that deceptive guide
Which turns detachment harmlessly aside.
The valley of detachment
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Next comes the Valley of Detachment;
here All claims, all lust for meaning disappear.
A wintry tempest blows with boisterous haste;
It scours the land and lays the valley waste
The seven planets seem a fading spark,
The seven seas a pool, and heaven’s arc
Is more like dust and death than paradise;
The seven burning hells freeze cold as ice.
More wonderful than this,a tiny ant
Is here far stronger than an elephant;
And, while a raven feeds, a caravan
Of countless souls will perish to a man.
A hundred thousand angels wept when light
Shone out in Adam and dispelled the night;
A hundred thousand drowning creatures died
When Noah’s ark rode out the rising tide;
For Abraham, as many gnats were sent
To humble Ninirod’s vicious government;
As many children perished by the sword
Till Moses’ sight was cleansed before the Lord;
As many walked in wilful heresy
When Jesus saw Truth’s hidden mystery;
As many souls endured their wretched fate
Before Mohammad rose to heaven’s gate.
Here neither old nor new attempts prevail,
And resolution is of no avail.
If you should see the world consumed in flame,
It is a dream compared to this, a game;
If thousands were to die here,
they would be One drop of dew absorbed within the sea;
A hundred thousand fools would be as one
Brief atom’s shadow in the blazing sun;
If all the stars and heavens came to grief,
They’d be the shedding of one withered leaf;
If all the worlds were swept away to hell,
They’d be a crawling ant trapped down a well;
If earth and heaven were to pass away,
One grain of gravel would have gone astray;
If men and fiends were never seen again,
They’d vanish like a tiny splash of rain;
And should they perish, broken by despair,
Think that some beast has lost a single hair;
If part and whole are wrecked and seen no more,
Think that the earth has lost a single straw;
And if the nine revolving heavens stop,
Think that the sea has lost a single drop.
The lover who slept
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