The philosophy section contains 5 poems.
GOD IN HIS UNITY
MOST ANCIENT OF ALL.
NO MULTIPLICITY.
ALONE OF EVERYTHING
UNCREATED.
What say you? Why did He
make the universe
out of pearl?
neither matter for form
height nor breadth.
You agree: in every case
cause precedes effect
as ONE is prior to numbers
or part to the whole
and since heaven and earth (all agree)
are both effects
why consider heaven alone
a realm of knowledge and power
(like its own antecedent cause)?
What He brings today
from potency into Act
could just as well be
yesterday or tomorrow
since He is not in need
nor impotent. You claim
that between cause and effect
between nothingness and creation
some interval of TIME must intervene
but TIME itself is born
of the rolling spheres.
How can TIME exist?
a non-existent entity?
a beginningless void?
before the spheres themselves?
If you think of nothingness
subsisting in itself
then Unity must have an opposite
a partner in manifestation.
If nothingness
is merely a name or sound
would this not prove that even names
are not without their due effects?
God is above all
as ONE above the numbers:
only thus is TIME s existence known
that of PLACE refuted
genesis necessitated
and Eternity proven.
Do not if you are wise
attribute to HIM
any action but creatio ex nihilo
of a single being in the wink
of an eye
or less.
Do not speak of His Action
in such a way that His Essence
might be passive like our own
moulded in time by act
by the least of intentions.
ABSOLUTE UNITY:
seek nothing outside His Essence
for He is All-comprehensive
while the essences of things
are particular, determined.
If you claim He transcends all vision
do not attribute qualities to Him
for this would make Him
dual in essence
no longer singular, unique and ONE.
True, you see in this universe
a myriad things made of earth
wind, water, fire, metals and seas.
If you could float down
like Harut the fallen angel
from celestial spheres
then could you not
lift yourself up again
like the Morning Star?
EMANATION FROM ESSENCE
NOT FROM BEING:
the cause of the creation of one thing
must be ONE
The First Emanation is Intellect
then Soul, then Body,
plants, the abundance of beasts,
the Rational Animal.
Each Archetype contingent in itself
bu (in reality) an impossible being;
each one manifest in itself but
(in reality) a hidden non-existent.
What say you now? how this painted screen
is set up in the vasty air
like an enamelled pavilion pitched
in a desert of fire?
Does it move by itself or
has someone set it spinning?
keeps it revolving like this
around the zenith on high?
How do you define movement ?
Locomotion? Turning from one state
to another lowly or sublime?
Then explain to me please
its condition and locus
if you know. If you don t know
stay off the path of Wisdom
till your blindfold is untied.
When by way of demonstration
and deduction you speak
of NINE SPHERES -
what say you again?
what lies beyond these verdant fields?
If you answer VACUUM
I say you re wrong - impossible
that solid forms should hang
in a void. If you say
PLENUM - no no - one cannot conceive
a physical body without limit or end
like a sublime substance.
Then what keeps this ball of dust
suspended - so - between water and fire
thunderbolt and raging tempest?
If the elements are opposites in nature
why do the four of them
seem to embrace in an excess of unity
in a single place like
loving brothers? or if you say
they re not opposites in essence
why have they been given NAMES
which express their opposition?
BEGIN NOW
KNOW THYSELF and turn
your steed away from the
whirling spheres
and this duststained toy.
How can you taste Divine Mysteries
with the DEVIL in you
slashing about with his sword
duelling the inner ADAM?
Your vision of the
spiritual essence of things
reminds me of a blind man
dropped in the middle of the
soul-nourishing Garden of the Spirit
trying with his sightless eyes
to visualise the shapes and colours
of its delights.
YOU whirligig windowless jasper dome
with the hump of an old wife, power of youth
we your brood and you the unloving mother
you our mother! and yet so vengeful.
Black silent clay, this body s your baby
(not pure Intelligence nor rational Substance)
the body - abode of noble sublimities
and you the mother, mother of the house . . .
When I finish my work in this house today
I shall be off alone and tomorrow the house is yours.
MY SON this corpse of yours, this prison
will never be lovely even draped in silk brocades;
embellish your soul with the jewel of SPEECH
for the soul is ugly even in silk brocades.
Can you not see God s chains on your ankles
(only awakened souls can see them)?
Be a man in your chains and cinch your belt
nor dream your cell the realm of DARIUS:
those wh act in moderation find
kingdoms wider far than his.
Patience! no one finds heart s desire
but a man of patience;
and for sexual lust open the Qur an
to the story of Adam and Eve.
Stay out of harm s way and do no hurt
but justly, eye to eye:
stick to no petty grudge like the brambles
nor like the datepalm bend in humiliation
for dung is thrown in the pit because it sinks
sweet incence burned for its refreshing fragrance.
Don t run around with everyone nor shut yourself up alone -
walk wisdom s way - be neither fly nor gryphon:
if there s no one around worth talking to
then 100 times better alone than with idiots
(the SUN s alone - who blames it
or calls it less than the seven PLEIADES?)
Don t screw up your face at more or less;
do with what s given and be equitable with all.
The states of this vagabond world are fleeting
cold after heat, joy after sorrow -
better not to have grabbed for ephemeralities.
Listen - GOOD ADVICE - don t be a bilious fool.
Who cares if the earth is littered with pebbles or gold:
you will lie in your grave beneath a shack or a palace
(remember the man who built a castle in SANAA
now fallen to ruins in a ruined city).
The world s - a cunning devil whom the wise
have never cultivated for companionship;
if you have an ounce of sense don t swagger
in its sulphurous wake like a drunken clot.
The world s a bottomless mudchoked well -
don t lose your purified soul in its cloudy depths
(your soul purified by SPEECH - as the wise
through LOGOS have flown from well s-bottom to the stars).
Take pride in speech as the Prophet (who willed
not even a camel to his heirs) treasured his eloquence;
come to life in speech as Jesus
raised the dead with a word;
make yourself known through speech
for no one known if not by what he says . . .
But if you ve no ideas sew up your trap
for a word unspoken s better than an asinine remark.
Carve your utterance straight as quarrel s shaft
then shoot - don t fumble the bow.
Pay your attention to words than good looks
for man is SUBLIMED through speech not stature
(the almond gives better fruit than willows
or poplars which are taller;
a sober man may look like a tramp
but his words will brand him no drunk).
The ocean of LOGOS are the lovely words of God
sparkling with gemstones, glowing with pearls.
The outward form of Revelation: bitter as a gulp
of seawater - sweet pearls its innards to the wise.
If sunken treasure lies in ocean deeps
look for a diver - why run vainly down the strand?
Why has the Creator sunk these chests
of gems in briny weeded troughs?
Tell for the Prophet s sake! Who told HIM
to entrust the hermeneutic to the wise, words to the rabble?
The diver surfaces with a handful of slime
perhaps because he sees in you an enemy . . .
look for the pith of Revelation, don t follow the herd
content with husks like asses with their braying.
On the NIGHT OF POWER the mosques are bright as day
with your candles - but your heart is pitchy as 12 o clock;
don t waste wax - for tappers cannot banish
darkened from an ignorant heart.
You have not learned piety but from sheer pride
you solve riddles at midnight in an ebon well . . .
if you re not a snake why dot he believers
tremble in your hands and the Christians fear you?
Cease this rambling and giggling at the fortunes of life
for nothing on this dusty globe belongs to you.
How often the spinning spheres distracted the wise
and thrown their perfect peace in turbulence?
DARIUS left behind his slaves, his concubines
his castle and gold and departed with a decaying bag of skin.
Earth is a vulture, no creature safe
from its beak, neither lord nor butler.
A day comes in which is no shelter nor refuge
from the arbitration of a just and equitable Judge;
at that hour all shall be paid for their deeds
both the just and the unjust receive justice;
on that day of tumult in that turbulent crowd
before the martyrs of God I shall take refuge with
THE DAUGHTER OF MUHAMMAD
so that God the Almighty may decide
between me
and the enemies
of the household
of the Prophet.
You, whose name has not been formed by anyone,
whose proof not even intellect can grasp.
To label you would be a loathsome act
for you are far removed from genus and species:
neither a subject nor an attribute ,
neither a Substance nor an Accident.
The moralist can t order you about
nor any censor tells you what to say.
The dance of the Sun s disc through the skies
is your command and gives birth to the shades
of animals; you stir the painter s pot,
the whirling spheres, mixing and mingling all
your most heart-catching colours in the stars.
The very mention of your name in the Nest
of Glory cuts off the wing of Gabriel;
on the Throne of Sanctity your lowliness
unveils the jewels which grace the bride of heaven.
Creation testifies that you were here before it,
and pre-eternity swears to your permanence.
O luminous sun, veiled by your shadow of light,
goal of all lovers, beyond their petty loves,
the paradoxical treasure of Qarun
(which is never where you find it) symbolises
your single pearl, concealed within two jewels -
two jewels which created the world, two gems
which chastised Adam.
The Universe is like
a rolling sea, our planet a tiny skiff
and Nature the anchor; its waves are trees, the stones
which wash up on the beach are animals;
but one, the pearl, the crimson carnelian
if YOU - the lonely beast endowed with speech.
And who is the diver? the Active Intellect
(worthy to be the mind of the Prophet himself).
What is the end? the same as was the beginning.
What is the goal? To seek that which is the best.
Behold the Good, if you have eyes, listen
to Truth, if you have ears to hear it with.
Lust s falcon has snatched you up in its beak, a dove
from Time s snare - have you forgotten, my brother,
Adam our father s sin and repentant tears?
I give a gift wrapped in veils of allusion
hoping you can slice away its seals
with meditation s sword: Adam ate
no bread in Eden; man was not the eater
of grain till his feet crossed the threshold of earth.
All this had happened to Adam when Satan s dam
had not yet come to birth.
What do you say
of Satan s refusal to worship man? Was he forced
not to bow, or did he have free choice to refuse?
If the power was his, to prostrate or not, then God
was impotent; but if God had pre-ordained
him to refusal, then God must be unjust.
No, give up thinking of work which is not your work
and cease to tread a path which is not your way.
No longer seek in vain the Water of Life
in the midst of your own darkness, like some lost
and bootless Alexander; for there were Khizr
found the fountain, the demon is no more
companion of the angel of our soul.
Who forced you to go for all this
eating and running around and sleeping and waking up
and what s the good of it? If this fate
didn t tickle your palate, why
have you spent your life guzzling and snoring?
How have you become such a disaster to yourself?
Tell the truth (wise men always tell the truth):
if you yourself destined to such a fate
then you must be your own Maker!
but this is manifestly bad doctrine. No,
the truth is that God s chains are upon you
and this abode is your pasturing place.
But munching grass and chewing cud
- damn! - this is work for cows!
How then do you explain your curious love
for the pasture? Ah, gourmet of hay,
all your fear and sorrow is the fear
of decrease - which cannot be avoided.
How in this hurlyburly world do you expect
to find permanence? Becoming the Change
to the wise are signs of Annihilation.
Your state changes, the stars shift about
day gives way to night - are these
not witnesses of the world s impermanence?
My dear tourist; this earth is like
a room in a onenight hotel, your journey
towards to Abode of Eternity.
Do not forget your passing from this place -
even if the house is torn down
religion prospers. Do not debase yourself
for finally someday however late a last
you must depart this caravanserai.
Make your provision for the road
obedience to God, devotion
the coin you spend on this difficult journey.
Gird yourself in armour of godliness and wisdom
for there lurks along the path a hideous dragon.
When you reach the fork, choose the best way
for one street lead to felicity, the other to Hell.
When the Prophet himself has come to you
with promise and threats, how can you claim
that Good and Evil are written, kismet, Fate?
Why try to shift the burden of sin and sloth
on to the shoulders of Destiny? Nonesense!
If God destined you to sin
then - according to you - the sin is God s
the evil-doer is God (hideous belief!)
Even if you don t dare to draw
the logical conclusion, in fear of getting
knocked on the head. Yes, that s your doctrine
even if your tongue proclaims Him Judge
the Wisest of Men, God knows
your tongue and heart do not agree - but you
lie boldfaced to the Lord of the Universe.
The wiseman treads midway
between Fate and Freewill
the path of the learned threads between hope and fear.
Seek you the Straight Way likewise
for either extreme leads to pain and suffering.
Straight indeed is that Way in religion
approved by Intellect, the gift of God to Man.
Justice is the Cornerstone of the Cosmos
- and consider! - by what faculty is justice
distinguished from tyranny except by Reason?
If man follows the tracks of Reason
it would not be wrong to expect to see
pearls spring up in his footprints from the soil.
Reason - Wisdom - only for this
and its radiant dignity does the Lord
of the Universe applaud and deign to address
his creature Man. Wisdom is the prop
for every weakness, relief from every sorrow
comfort in every fear, balm for each ill
noble companion, bulwark in the way of the world
and in religion a trusty guide, a stout staff.
Even if the whole Universe were free
it would be in bondage - but the wiseman
even in chains would be at liberty.
The Sage! Study him well with an awakened eye
and see by contrast with what black plague
this ignorant world is afflicted.
This one tells All actions are performed
? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? (missing whilst photocopying)
submission and contentment. That one replies
All good is from God, all evil, O World
your work alone . But both parties
Agree on one thing at least, that a Great Day
is coming, a day of reward and punishment.
But if the work is not mine, how
shall be rewarded? Look: Illogic!!!
Where s the justice in chastising the innocent?
You may see it but I am nonplussed. No,
this arbitrator of your ( your in italic) judgement day
is the Drunkard of Sodom, not the Wise Being
who has built the vault of Heaven.
True wisdom could never lead us astray
in such error - then follow Wisdom s manifest Way.
Know the God of the Universe and be grateful -
these two precepts are worth more to you
than all the powers of Solomon.
Learn to be wise. Do not prattle
but speak in measure. Know that on the Last Day
these things have value, these are priceless.
The True Man is robed in Faith and virtue
- even fine silks cannot disguise
the art-less and wicked. Endeavour
to become a man by SPEECH - know
that for such a man all creatures
are but weeds and thorns. GOOD SPEECH
is to man s heart a air and water
to his body - a source of life.
Listen then O noble heart to the PROOF
for to the truly noble, his words are nobility.
Whatever EXISTS, shall be worn away and die;
that which IS TO BE, then - whence does it spring?
He has not come into being, but is eternal;
that which BECOMES cannot be everlasting.
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Which does not increase, how can it die?
The world forever wears away and disappears
for if it did not die it could not grow.
No one can undo the knot tied by Gods hand.
Four wives and seven husbands procreate
without cease and all things of the world but God
are like these women. Decrepit filthy earth,
how does it manage to seize and enchant our hearts?
What do you think, my sage? When does the wheel
of this watermill ever cease to turn? Tell me how
that which is not can ever be, or that which is
can cease to be? Dont waste your time in chat
(fashionable as it may be with So-and-So);
how did you develop a taste for food
that gives indigestion? Rather ask:
if the world goes on forever, what can it do
for you? or if it dies, what can you do?
He who wants to know more of what I teach
ought first to purify his soul, for hone
cannot stick to a hand thats purified.
Wisdom asks no one but the wise
to busy himself with such matters.
Furs and silks are still lovely even on hag
but they cannot improve an ugly womans face.
He who cleanses his soul of error and sin
in the fire of intellect, deserves to dole out
measure by measure the contents of my sack,
but if you lack the wherewithal, refrain
from spattering heavens cupola with mire.
He whom love of the world has inflamed will never
be able to comprehend the truths I speak;
O confidence-man, O trickster, what can you gain
from poetry such as mine? You cannot trust
yourself - how then shall anyone trust you?
Prepare your heart, as I instruct and hope,
for the work at hand, so that this axe of mine
can trim the branches from your ignorance-tree
(but mildly and without pain); and turn your face
from those who deal in superstitious slander.
Good counsel scratches out the eye of ignorance
as sure as a fool in public will lose his pants!
Reveille! Time to get up! from the couch of sloth! my son!
And gaze upon the globe with the orb of sagesse!
Eating and sleeping is the work of a creature with whom
you my ignoramus cannot hope to compare: the ASS.
Why do you suppose God gave you a brain?
foe eating and snoring contests with donkeys?
Tie round your fat head the turban of Wisdom
then one night raise your eyes to the lapis lazuli vault
or heaven like an emerald seas surging waves
which cast bright pearls from stygian trenches:
dark night crawling with stars like the armour
of Alexanders legions glinting through tenebrous shades.
See the Pleiades like seven sisters sitting side by side
Venus palefaced as terrified girl and Mars
with the baleful eye of a he-lion. Ponder:
Did the Dogstar grow silvery grey or Capella
begin to glow like a scarlet carnelian by themselves?
Each might the spheres spin their cerulean twine
about the throats of thousands upon thousands
of blossoming narcissus and lay their distant fires
around the harvest of the water lilies. But -
if these lights are really fires, how has this harvest
never been sent to increase or diminish?
Without, wick or wood fire never gives
light and radiance. If fire is that which needs fuel
that which needs no fuel cannot be fire.
The Sun is the maker of fire, distinguish, my boy,
between the maker and the fire itself.
Or if that which you see is an army, who
is its general? Socrates spoke of seven
commanders of these troops, prudent and energetic.
The Moon (said he) is green and from it grows
salt and bowels of the earth, silver in stone.
Mars breeds ill-tempered iron and from the womb
of the Sun (so he maintained) all gold is born.
>Jupiter he claimed >is the father of tin
and all copper has Venus for its dam.
Quicksilver is the daughter of Mercury
and Saturn the mother of gloomy lead.
Thus did the Greek associate with seven worlds
these seven melting metals; are the words
of this great sage true? Reason! come
and arbitrate my argument with him. I say
these planets are mere agents, helpless
with no will of their own. Each is charged
as guardian of a certain function - but
a true leader could never be an agent,
a slave or servant - no - he must be the king
who brought into being the very stars themselves
and the greensward on which they play.
It must be his command that alone has raised
without a scaffold the foundations of sea and land,
his decree that harmonises dry earth
with humid water, his power that revolves
the swift and gateless millwheel of the heavens;
and through him the dusty world adorns itself
with countless beauties. Four fecund sisters
and their innumerable spawn praise and glorify
HIM without end beneath this finespun azure
pavilion - but - who has ever heard such praise
of the seven planets? Unless by some hallucinatory
tintinnabulation on the broken eardrum of the heart?
Seize the hand of God or youll regret it! Find
a new-minted ear, a fresh eye to gaze upon
this great sovereign - for he will not grant you
audience unless you cut off your ears and pluck
your eyes from the webs of this world.
Your lord summons you to the heights why
have you cast yourself in the Pit? Climb
to highest heaven on feet of knowledge
and wings of devotion.
Oh you who tread the wilderness
of Insolence, your body lard, your soul starved thin
your arms coiled like snakes around the neck
of this deceitful world (imagining shes some
gorgeous slut) and clasp to your bosom something
more venomous than a king cobra -
seclude yourself from the world or not,
it makes no difference, shell have her
vengeance, her stiletto-satisfaction in the end.
To expect fidelity from this infidel is
to blow on sifted ashes hoping for fire and warmth.
This ghoul, this vampire has kicked a million
like you off the wharf and drowned them
in the shoreless passageless sea.
The world is a scab: it hurts
but it feels so nice to scratch it.
You think its pleasant and cozy as hot milk and sugar
but when it means you ill, watch out:
neither Caesar nor the Emperor of China
can do a thing to save you.
Sometimes it appears to you as a young bride
dripping with earings, bracelets and a diadem
who with sinuously erotic gestures, blushing
like a virgin, removes from her face
first the dust of humility and then - the veil . . .
suddenly, just as you anticipate . . . well
we wont go into that - suddenly like a lunatic
she whips out a dagger and stabs you in the throat.
In doing battle with this psychopath forge yourself
a sword of patience, a helmet of faith;
pluck gnostic buds from the branch of religion
and gaze upon devotional hyacinths in the
in the pasture of knowledge. The here-and-now
is no mansion for the wise but merely
a thoroughfare to be passed and left behind;
it is a twig whose yield is forbidden us to enjoy
- no matter then it bears fruit of not.
Compared to God, the partnerless judge, this world
cannot be counted even as an atom.
If He cared a whit for the worlds worth
do you suppose Hed allow an unbeliever
to take from it even a sip of water?
This is but a store where you can buy
road-provision for your trip to the Hereafter,
only a book wherein you must read
the mysterious calligraphy of your Lord.
Do not deny these hints from the PROOF
(truth can never be denied); you may learn
most readily to decipher the divine script
if you enter the Prophets house - then
in your footsteps tulips and lilies will spring up
and water-mint grow. But God will not permit
you to enter this house except behind ALI
the hero whose glory in the conquest of Khaybar
ha spread from Qayrawan to China,
whose sword has dumbfounded the lions;
Ocean before his great heart has shrunk
into a single drop; his words are a restingplace
a lamp of enlightenment for the heart
his sword a pit of fear and confusion to the foe -
Gods gift to Muhammad - his name Ali
his nickname Kawthar. If you yearn to see
to glaze upon that blessed countenance, that holy face
then hurry to the threshold of the IMAM MUSTANSIR
and do him the honour to approach, face in the dust,
towards that Kaaba of this world and the hereafter
that sacred temple of glory and majesty.
The sun dims before his shining face and the universe
before his doorstep appears but a heap of dirt.
By your sword, by your words, the battlefield
and pulpit have at last attained to grandeur;
without your blessed face the world itself
remains unknown, naked and unadorned.
Only by your knowledge has religion been known:
religion is the frankincense, your heart the pyx.
Hail, PROOF of the land of Khorasan, well done!
This propaganda, this eulogy of the Prophet and his House.
The point of your eloquent pen is a lancet
stuck in the eye of the enemies of true faith.
Such astonishing brocades you spin - tell me
are the famous looms of Shustar hid in your heart?
Spend your remaining years in weaving
these poems of piety, and in devotion.
Heres something for you to mull over:
He who made the world, what did He want of it?
The earth turns, day and night, sometimes more
sometimes less, sometimes even. Water
runs downhill, clouds scuttle across the sky
trees remain stuck in the mud, the beasts
move freely this way and that. And think of men:
how their works are boundless and uncountable.
Ewe, goat, cow, ass, elephant and lion
all suffer for this one beast alone;
seed, fruit, leaves of every plant
are either medicine for us, or food
(if it tastes good its food - the bitter
is perhaps some herbal remedy). Deer and game,
the browsing stag, all creatures that graze
are busy creating your steaks and kebabs
out of useless thorns and desert weeds -
the cows you feed on brambles and hay
you exploit for butter, cheese, yoghurt and milk.
Good, bad, right, wrong: the result of our actions.
The lion in his mountain, the bird in his sky
are not safe from our hands. Fire drudges
for us between the ovens stones, water
slaves for us in the mill, the wind
obeys us at sea, a good worker who keeps his place.
And what is all this to you? Look:
every human being is suffering because of some
other human being. This one says
I own the Roman Empire! Another one
China is mine! One raises a golden throne
over his treasures, another crouches starving in a corner.
X lies in a bed lid with silk and fine linen
Y wishes he had a tattered reed mat.
One stinks, armpits unwashed, never prays
another pure of heart, godfearing, pious.
How did one become bad, the other good?
Well? Whose fault is this mess?
And He Who made the world like this -
what can he fish out of such a kettle?
Good and bad, I repeat, more and less - wheres
the justice in such a set-up? If man
is good then obviously scorpions are bad.
No, really, tell me. This is no
rhetorical question. I really want to know.
I fear your opinions about Gods Justice
are not really sincere. Youre simply
trying to avoid being accused of heresy.
Ill tell you: to really understand Gods Justice
is the job of sages and prophets. Go
your lustful way - this is no business
for one infected with carnal passion.
Speech and action are attributes of man
- far removed is He from such human qualities.
Know God - perfectly - or all your panegyric
is nothing but satire. Do not speculate
about God as King of you and me - even though
the world and everything in it are fit to be
nothing but His slaves. What?
This tasteless and fleeting realm, how
could it be considered his domain?
The Kingdom of God (so you confess) knows
neither increase or decrease; but if the world
is His Kingdom - and the world is subject
at every moment to annihilation - then
His kingdom knows decrease! A contradiction!
In fact you do not know Him nd your words
bear witness to your ignorance. For me
what you profess is not religion but a cause
of wretched disbelief.
Now:
knowledge of Gods agents is the very foundation
of the Islamic Religion. The universe
is such an agent, without intelligence, knowledge or will.
And that Power which has dominion over the universe
is itself and agent - the beginning of all agents.
Agents everywhere: for example: the agent in plants
is sluggish, intractable. That by which the soil
makes raiment for your limbs, food for your stomach
that which produces wheat from dust -
that is not God, but thevegetative soul.
You object@God is pure of all this!
We will prove our point. According to your reasoning
the Lord of the Universe is without doubt inside
every grain of barley and every bean.
Surely you see how ugly, unjust and erroneous
such a belief must be!
Only when you know
the agents in all their reality is your soul
worthy of applause. You are an agent too.
Do your duty! and be rewarded with eternal bliss.
The duty of the tree is to bear leaves and fruit
and yours is glorifying God with prayer and invocation.
Follow the footsteps of that excellent guide
Muhammad the Chosen One of God.
Dont loll about in idleness. All this work
going on in the universe is all aimed at YOU -
the rest is dust. Follow the way of religion,
cure for the sickness of ignorance. You soul
in ignorance has grown thin as an old mule -
knowledge is its water, its pasture Divine Law.
Without knowledge your soul is lead - religion
is the alchemy to make it gold. Abstain
from dragonlike and sensual desires. Buy
true glory and eternal life, luminous
and beautiful as the light of Divine Law.
Intellect the gift of God has made religion
incumbent upon you, and he who refuses
to enter this path is an ass even if
(like you, to be sure) hes descended from Adam himself.
No - worse than and ass is man
satisfied with bestiality. Wisdom shows the way:
follow the track of faith, the blessed staff,
wearing the cloak of obedience, loveliest of mantles.
Devotion is the head of the body of blessings,
the seal of the epistle of good deeds -
but obedience without knowledge is not obedience,
only a puff of morning breeze. Know then:
obedience means two different things according
to whether we discuss the body or soul - for you
are two: body and soul. On the Day of Fire
man is saved by knowledge and action. Devote yourself
to these two, and prefer above all words the words
of the PROOF. Wisdom knows his sermons by heart.
Theyre the very head on the body of Wisdom
and his phrases are soothing balm for its eyes.
Windowless revolving turquoise dome: why
is it sometimes a garden, sometimes a wilderness?
First house Ive ever heard of half-desert
half-rosebed, blossoming when you turn your back
on the wasteland. And a black globe
hangs suspended in the middle of the livingroom -
look: no wires. Whos the magician?
A better trick than King Solomons Throne?
Earth - a great tablecloth spread with delicacies
out there on the veranda. When they ask you
to join the feast, think for a moment:
do you deserve it? What about it?
O you whose back is bent like an umbrella.
Look: that eye-in-the-sky, staring,
staring at the earth, looking for the
secret mine-full of jewels, reaching out
with four hands ( Spring, Summer, Winter, Fall).
The jewel is dug out and planted
in another mine: mans body. A pale germ.
Give it colour then - dont be a weakling.
A rubys valued by its >water, man
by his speech. Your body is precious
only because its the shell for this pearl,
this Wisdom, this divine Spirit.
Give spirit to your jewel, for the spiritless
have no mercy from God when the
shell is split open. Wake up! beware
lest you leave this world as you entered it,
hungry, thirsty, naked. Dont buy
before you look at the label. The Divine Law
is Gods grain-garden. His plantation of trees,
some tended by His hand - but others
by Satan. Traveller, if you hunger for
these rare fruits, ask the gardeners permission
(a great and virtuous man) before you come in:
choose the apple, the quince; avoid
the brambles, dont be deceived by tall trees
which bear no fruit. The parrot and owl
are both birds, but one graces the courts
of kings, the other perches in ruins.
Black smokes may rise high as clouds
but gives no rain, not every child
whose father calls him Noah owns an ark
to ride out the Flood. The Messenger
is Lord and master of this house,
commander of humankind, herald of God.
The Messengers child is the gardener,
who protects you from oppressors as the harden
is protected from noxious insects. Just because
apples have worms doesnt mean the farmer
turns the orchards over to pests, any more
than youd surrender your new house
to the mice. A mouse stays in its hole
and travels the wainscotting - what does it know
of the parlour and the porch? No more
than the fool knows of religion. The fool
can mount the pulpit but that doesnt
make him equal to the Sage: the crow
can kick the nightingale out of the garden
but that doesnt mean that it can sing.
Wisdom comes from man, not from a pulpit;
light comes from the sun, not from some
distant star. The Quran is Gods battlefield -
come you knights, ride forth to the lists;
its easy enough to read the Book -
the hard thing is its hermeneutic sense;
if youre not a cow, dont eat chaff with grain
(so said Salman); dont eat the shell with the nut.
It would be libel to say the Prophet didnt know
the meaning of Gods Word - and no one
but the Prophets Family has power
over it now. The rod turned into a snake
in the hands of Moses and Moses alone.
A parrot can talk, but not understand
what it says - so with your reading
of the Quran! Parrots gabble, profitless
absurd, unproven. . . noise. They say
the Prophet died without appointing
a successor. Fools! Prophethood is the
dominion of God, not Rome or China;
what king would turn his empire
over to a stranger? Go, read the
Book of Kings and see for yourself!
Would any Muslim leave his wealth
to a stranger when his daughter,
his son-in-law and his grandchildren were all
still alive? Do you think the Messenger
would act contrary to the Word of the Lord,
the Judge, the Glorious? What crudities!
What are you saying, you around whose brows
the fumes of rebellion smoulder|?
Youll realise its all babble on that Day
when you have to chew stones and weep.
Regret is no use tomorrow if you have not
repented today. Sorrow will not help
the old man who fled from school
as a child. He who spends the summer
drowsing in the shade will not sleep
from hunger through winters nights.
Grief is useless if the patient falls ill
in Iraq, when the remedy is in Badakhshan!
Do you think the Sultan will accept
>Im sorry from the convicted thief?
The Prophets descendant sits in the place
of his ancestor, and the tip of his crown
brushes against Saturns sphere
He is the Chosen one of God - why
do you rave on? There, there where
the Prohet sat at the Divine command
he sits today. Your choice is not
Gods choice - do you know better
than the Creator, the Judge Himself?
Old man, God will not accept
your sacrifice of a dog - even a fat one!
The Prophets son is a sacrifice for you -
find your way by his wisdom to the Garden.
He is the Solomon of the Age; flee
to his gate, escape from your demons.
O Lord of Adams children, your kingdom
like Solomons. Your wisdom like Luqmans,
in the Garden of the Divine Law, March
appears from your justice, April
from your generosity. Religion is
adorned by you, the world made beautiful,
wisdom refreshed, heresy defeated.
When I proclaim your name from
the pulpit on Friday, roses spring up
from your blessing. When your servant
speaks your name - MUSTANSIR BILLAH -
the vale of Yamgan fills with dancing stars.
Your enemies are consumed like foam
in the moonlight. O you title of the Book
of Happiness. Your humble servant
is hounded by enemies only because
he is a guest at your gate. O PROOF
of Yamgan, let your words pierce the hearts
and souls of these villains. If Khorasnas soil
rejected you, be of good cheer - Gods pleasure
is richer than the soil of Khorasan.
Compose your odes on praise of the Wisdom
of the Family, as did the eulogists of old.
Somewhere above the seven heavens two jewels lie
by whose light Adam and the world are lit;
both formed and not formed, the foetus of nothingness
by the sperm of being - not sensible, nor
do we sense them, do not see them, for
they are neither dark nor luminous -
suckled by nurses of the holy land forever -
no - not jewels, though gemlike in quality:
on one side of creation, on the other side
of all things that exist, both inside and outside Time
they are settles; not in the world
- but they are the world; not in us
but in our bodies the nourishment of Spirit.
They say these two are the TWO WORLDS
both found and not found in all the seven Climes.
One the Holy Spirit, one the essence of Gabriel,
angels flying without wings, without wings
they spread their pinions over this lowly house,
without plumage they soar above their high nests.
With universal Hot and Cold, with the worlds Wet and Dry
like Earth and Wind they keep company with Water and Fire.
They are not - but are called - the Substances
of Eternitys treasure-house and the store of Permanenece.
Both Adam and the world, both Hell and Paradise
present and absent, poison and sugar,
stretching from light to darkness, from
apogee to perigee, from East to West, land to sea,
they are and are not, both hidden and revealed
far from you yet found int he same house.
In that Second World which is heir laboratory
they both destroy and build all things;
food of the five senses, nurses of the four natures,
stewards and cooks of the nine spheres and seven planets.
Ten spies stand around their house, five inside
and five by the gate. Heavens shopkeepers
wait to see what they will sell, and buy -
a ten-headed, six-faced, seven-eyed king
with his four sworn enemies lives in their house.
They are not substances, their substance is accident:
they both are and are not the axis of all accidents.
Illiterate, they read you the letter of the mysteries
and know your deeds without spying on you.
They are lost - and thus become manifest;
headless, bodiless - because they reside
in head and body. In attributes they are not contained
in the world, though hidden in our body and head.
They come from a place which is not a place;
there, they are angles; here, divine messengers.
In attribute they rank above the spiritual world,
neither elements not substances,
like the essence of God Himself.
Though they rule the two worlds they can if you like
conquer your soul as well. They speak
and act, bringing down revelations from on high.
Look at the vegabonds of the sky, an army
for the King of the Holy Throne: even if fools
deride them, they are the movers of the spheres.
Why so many thousand ears and eyes? No,
do not say so - they are blind and deaf.