— Who are we, thy company, concerning the path upon which we are about to set forth? Explain to us also the customs and ceremonies observed among kings; for we do not wish to conduct ourselves foolishly in this affair. We all find difficulties in our minds, and this path requires a mind free from care.
By questioning Thee about the difficulties that arise in our thoughts, we wish to dispel the doubts in our minds. Untie these difficulties, then, at once, so that we may gladly set out; for we know well that we cannot see clearly upon this long path if we lack all the necessary information! When our minds are rid of every anxiety, our bodies will set forth, and we shall then lay our heads upon the sacred threshold, without mind or body.
By questioning Thee about the difficulties that arise in our thoughts, we wish to dispel the doubts in our minds. Untie these difficulties, then, at once, so that we may gladly set out; for we know well that we cannot see clearly upon this long path if we lack all the necessary information! When our minds are rid of every anxiety, our bodies will set forth, and we shall then lay our heads upon the sacred threshold, without mind or body.
Then the hoopoe prepared to address the birds. To that end, she seated herself upon a throne before beginning her discourse. When the birds saw her upon her throne, with her crown, they were enchanted. Before her, more than a hundred thousand individuals of the army of birds drew up in ranks. The nightingale and the turtledove came together to address her. Since they had come to say the same thing, they were like two readers with sweet voices. Then both made their song heard, so that the whole world knew of it. All those who heard it lost their rest, as well as their senses. An extraordinary state came upon each of them; none was either in his right mind or beside himself. Then the hoopoe delivered her address, and thereby lifted the veil from the face of the mystery.
Meanwhile, one bird questioned the hoopoe in these words: “O Thou who settest thyself at our head! Tell us wherein Thou hast precedence over us. Since in truth Thou art like us, and we like Thee, whence comes the difference between us? What fault have we committed in our soul or in our body, that Thou shouldst belong to a pure class, and we to an impure one?”
Meanwhile, one bird questioned the hoopoe in these words: “O Thou who settest thyself at our head! Tell us wherein Thou hast precedence over us. Since in truth Thou art like us, and we like Thee, whence comes the difference between us? What fault have we committed in our soul or in our body, that Thou shouldst belong to a pure class, and we to an impure one?”
The hoopoe replied, “Know, O bird, that Solomon chanced to see me once, and the happiness that fell to my share was the result neither of gold nor of silver, but of that fortunate meeting. How, indeed, could a creature gain so great an advantage through obedience alone? For Satan obeys in vain. Yet, if anyone should say that obedience must be rejected, may the curse rain upon him for ever! Therefore never neglect obedience, but set no price upon it. Pass thy life in obedience, and then thou shalt obtain a glance from the true Solomon. If thou art accepted by Him, thou shalt be more than I could tell.”
MAHMUD AND THE FISHERMAN
It is related that one day King Mahmud had accidentally become separated from his army. Alone, without an escort, he urged forward his horse, swift as the wind, when he saw a child sitting on the riverbank, who had cast his net into the depths of the water. The king greeted him and stopped before him; but the child was sad, his heart wounded and his soul distressed. “Dear child,” said the king, “what is the cause of thy grief? Never have I seen anyone so afflicted as thou.”
MAHMUD AND THE FISHERMAN
It is related that one day King Mahmud had accidentally become separated from his army. Alone, without an escort, he urged forward his horse, swift as the wind, when he saw a child sitting on the riverbank, who had cast his net into the depths of the water. The king greeted him and stopped before him; but the child was sad, his heart wounded and his soul distressed. “Dear child,” said the king, “what is the cause of thy grief? Never have I seen anyone so afflicted as thou.”
“O illustrious prince! know that we are seven children, without a father. Our mother remains with us; but she is very poor and has no support. Every day I cast my net to catch a fish, so that we may have shelter for the night. It is only, sire, when I have caught a fish after much toil that we have enough to live on that evening.” “Would you, my poor child,” said the king to him, “have me join you in your fishing?”
The child consented, and the king cast the young child’s net into the river. Now the net shared in the king’s good fortune, and caught a hundred fish that day. When the child saw all those fish before him, he said to himself: “I am astonished at my good fortune. O my child, how fortunate you are that all these fish…”
“have fallen into your nets.” But the king said to him: “You must not deceive yourself, my young child! Learn the truth from the one who caught the fish for you. Your good fortune here comes from me, for it was the king who fished for you.” He spoke thus and mounted his horse again. The child wished the king to set aside his share. The king said that he would take nothing today, but that the next day’s catch would be his. “Tomorrow you shall fish for me,” he said to him, “and certainly I shall give this catch to no one.”
The child consented, and the king cast the young child’s net into the river. Now the net shared in the king’s good fortune, and caught a hundred fish that day. When the child saw all those fish before him, he said to himself: “I am astonished at my good fortune. O my child, how fortunate you are that all these fish…”
“have fallen into your nets.” But the king said to him: “You must not deceive yourself, my young child! Learn the truth from the one who caught the fish for you. Your good fortune here comes from me, for it was the king who fished for you.” He spoke thus and mounted his horse again. The child wished the king to set aside his share. The king said that he would take nothing today, but that the next day’s catch would be his. “Tomorrow you shall fish for me,” he said to him, “and certainly I shall give this catch to no one.”
The next day, when the king returned to his palace, he thought of his associate. An officer went to summon the child. The king made him sit beside him upon his throne, in his capacity as associate. “Sire,” they said to him, “this child is a beggar.” — “No matter,” replied the king, “he is my associate. Since we have formed a partnership together, I cannot reject him.” Indeed, the king treated him as his equal. At this point, someone asked the child: “How did you acquire such a degree of honour?” He replied: “Joy came to me and my sorrow passed, because a fortunate monarch encountered me.”
ANECDOTE OF A MURDERER.
A king, in anger, sentenced a murderer to death. That very night, a Sufi saw this murderer in a dream in the Garden of Eden, where he was walking, content with his happy state. The Sufi said to him: “You have murdered and lived in infamy; how then do you find yourself in this place, where no one may gain access who has committed the crimes of which you are guilty?” The murderer replied: “As my blood flowed upon the earth, a friend passed by. He was a holy pîr who had advanced far along the spiritual path. This venerable personage stealthily cast a glance at me. By the excellence of that single glance, I obtained the honour in which you see me now, and a hundred other favours of which you have no conception.”
ANECDOTE OF A MURDERER.
A king, in anger, sentenced a murderer to death. That very night, a Sufi saw this murderer in a dream in the Garden of Eden, where he was walking, content with his happy state. The Sufi said to him: “You have murdered and lived in infamy; how then do you find yourself in this place, where no one may gain access who has committed the crimes of which you are guilty?” The murderer replied: “As my blood flowed upon the earth, a friend passed by. He was a holy pîr who had advanced far along the spiritual path. This venerable personage stealthily cast a glance at me. By the excellence of that single glance, I obtained the honour in which you see me now, and a hundred other favours of which you have no conception.”
He upon whom a fortunate glance falls is in an instant possessed of a hundred secrets. So long as the glance of a spiritual man has not fallen upon thee, how shalt thou know thine own existence? If thou remainest in seclusion, thou wilt be unable to traverse the spiritual path. Thou needest a pîr: go not alone, enter not blindly into this ocean. Our pîr is a sure guide upon this path, and a refuge in all things. When thou knowest nothing at all of what thou must do to escape from the well of the world, how canst thou set forth without a guide armed with a staff? Thine eye is not fixed upon the goal, and the way is not short; the pîr is thy guide along the path.
Whoever rests beneath the shadow of a man possessed of happiness shall never be confused. For in the hand of him who is united with happiness, thorns are transformed into bouquets of roses.
Whoever rests beneath the shadow of a man possessed of happiness shall never be confused. For in the hand of him who is united with happiness, thorns are transformed into bouquets of roses.
MAHMÛD AND THE WOODCUTTER.
Once, when King Mahmûd had gone hunting, he strayed far from his army and met an old woodcutter leading his donkey, laden with brushwood. The load fell, and in falling scraped the man’s head. Mahmûd saw him in this sorry plight, his brushwood on the ground and his donkey overturned. He went up to him: “O unfortunate man!” he said, “would you like a friend to help you in this predicament?” — “Yes,” said the woodcutter, “that is my desire, O horseman! If you help me, I shall gain by it, and you will suffer no harm. Your happy countenance is a good omen for me. It is no wonder that one should meet with kindness from those of happy countenance.” Meanwhile the king graciously dismounted from his horse, and at once stretched out his delicate hand, like a rose, towards the thorny brushwood. The great monarch himself replaced the bundle on the donkey; then he once more turned his steed towards his army, and said to his soldiers: “An old woodcutter is coming behind me with his donkey laden with brushwood; block his way on every side, so that he may come face to face with me.”
Once, when King Mahmûd had gone hunting, he strayed far from his army and met an old woodcutter leading his donkey, laden with brushwood. The load fell, and in falling scraped the man’s head. Mahmûd saw him in this sorry plight, his brushwood on the ground and his donkey overturned. He went up to him: “O unfortunate man!” he said, “would you like a friend to help you in this predicament?” — “Yes,” said the woodcutter, “that is my desire, O horseman! If you help me, I shall gain by it, and you will suffer no harm. Your happy countenance is a good omen for me. It is no wonder that one should meet with kindness from those of happy countenance.” Meanwhile the king graciously dismounted from his horse, and at once stretched out his delicate hand, like a rose, towards the thorny brushwood. The great monarch himself replaced the bundle on the donkey; then he once more turned his steed towards his army, and said to his soldiers: “An old woodcutter is coming behind me with his donkey laden with brushwood; block his way on every side, so that he may come face to face with me.”
The army thus barred the way to the old woodcutter, who was obliged to pass before the king. The old man said to himself: “How, with this feeble animal, shall I make my way through this tyrannical army?” Just then, trembling, he caught sight of the royal parasol and saw that the path he was following led to it. He therefore drove his donkey up to the king; but when he caught sight of Mahmûd, he was confounded. For beneath the parasol he saw a familiar face, and was much troubled and disquieted. “O God!” he said, “to whom shall I confess my plight? For today I have made Mahmûd my porter.”
When the king saw the woodcutter’s distress, he said to him kindly: “My poor friend, tell me, what is your occupation?” The woodcutter replied: “You already know; act justly. Do not mistake me for another: I am a poor old man, a woodcutter by trade; day and night I gather brushwood in the desert. I sell my brushwood, and yet my donkey is starving. If it please you, give me some bread.” — “Unfortunate old man,” replied Mahmûd, “tell me what I may give you for your bundle of wood.” The woodcutter replied: “Since you will not take it for nothing, and I will not sell it to you, give me a purse of gold for it.” On hearing these words, the soldiers said to him: “Be silent, fool; this is worth no more than two grains of barley. Give it away for nothing.” The old man said: “Indeed, this is truly worth no more than two grains of barley, but its value has changed, because the buyer is excellent. When a wealthy man such as the king has laid hands upon my thorns, he has made them a hundred times more precious than roses. If, then, he wishes to buy this brushwood, he must pay a dinar for the worst of it. The king has unwittingly given value to my thorns by the touch of his hands. This brushwood had no value, but the touch of his hands gives it the worth of a hundred lives.”