{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_57317/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_57317","id":"gutenberg_57317","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/57317","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Poetry","Islamic poetry, Persian -- Translations into English"],"text":"Produced by Fritz Ohrenschall, Emmanuel Ackerman and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n(This file was produced from images generously made\navailable by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  THE SECRETS OF THE SELF\n  (ASR\u00c1R-I KHUD\u00cd)\n\n\n\n\n  MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED\n  LONDON \u00b7 BOMBAY \u00b7 CALCUTTA \u00b7 MADRAS\n  MELBOURNE\n\n  THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n  NEW YORK \u00b7 BOSTON \u00b7 CHICAGO\n  DALLAS \u00b7 SAN FRANCISCO\n\n  THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.\n  TORONTO\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n  SECRETS OF THE SELF\n  (ASR\u00c1R-I KHUD\u00cd)\n\n  A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM\n  BY\n  SHEIKH MUHAMMAD IQBAL\n  OF LAHORE\n\n  TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL PERSIAN\n  WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY\n\n  REYNOLD A. NICHOLSON, LITT.D., LL.D.\n  LECTURER ON PERSIAN IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE\n\n\n  MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED\n  ST. MARTIN\u2019S STREET, LONDON\n  1920\n\n\n  COPYRIGHT\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                               PAGE\n\n         Contents                                                 v\n\n         Introduction                                           vii\n\n         Prologue                                                 1\n\n      I. Showing that the system of the universe\n          originates in the Self, and that the continuation\n          of the life of all individuals\n          depends on strengthening the Self                      16\n\n     II. Showing that the life of the Self comes\n          from forming desires and bringing them\n          to birth                                               23\n\n    III. Showing that the Self is strengthened by\n          Love                                                   28\n\n     IV. Showing that the Self is weakened by asking             38\n\n      V. Showing that when the Self is strengthened\n          by Love it gains dominion over the outward\n          and inward forces of the universe                      43\n\n     VI. A tale of which the moral is that negation\n          of the Self is a doctrine invented by the\n          subject races of mankind in order that by\n          this means they may sap and weaken the\n          character of their rulers                              48\n\n    VII. To the effect that Plato, whose thought\n          has deeply influenced the mysticism and\n          literature of Islam, followed the sheep\u2019s\n          doctrine, and that we must be on our\n          guard against his theories                             56\n\n   VIII. Concerning the true nature of poetry and\n          the reform of Islamic literature                       60\n\n     IX. Showing that the education of the Self has\n          three stages: Obedience, Self-control,\n          and Divine Vicegerency                                 72\n\n      X. Setting forth the inner meanings of the\n          names of Ali                                           85\n\n     XI. Story of a young man of Merv who came\n          to the saint Ali Hujw\u00edr\u00ed--God have\n          mercy on him!--and complained that he\n          was oppressed by his enemies                           95\n\n    XII. Story of the bird that was faint with thirst           100\n\n   XIII. Story of the diamond and the coal                      104\n\n    XIV. Story of the Sheikh and the Brahmin,\n          followed by a conversation between\n          Ganges and Himalaya to the effect that\n          the continuation of social life depends\n          on firm attachment to the characteristic\n          traditions of the community                           108\n\n     XV. Showing that the purpose of the Moslem\u2019s\n          life is to exalt the Word of Allah, and\n          that the _Jih\u00e1d_ (war against unbelievers),\n          if it be prompted by land-hunger, is unlawful\n          in the religion of Islam                              116\n\n    XVI. Precepts written for the Moslems of India\n          by M\u00edr Naj\u00e1t Nakshband, who is generally\n          known as B\u00e1b\u00e1 Sahr\u00e1\u00b4\u00ed                                 122\n\n   XVII. Time is a sword                                        134\n\n  XVIII. An invocation                                          141\n\n         Transcriber\u2019s Note\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nThe _Asr\u00e1r-i Khud\u00ed_ was first published at Lahore in 1915. I read it\nsoon afterwards and thought so highly of it that I wrote to Iqbal,\nwhom I had the pleasure of meeting at Cambridge some fifteen years\nago, asking leave to prepare an English translation. My proposal was\ncordially accepted, but in the meantime I found other work to do,\nwhich caused the translation to be laid aside until last year. Before\nsubmitting it to the reader, a few remarks are necessary concerning the\npoem and its author.[1]\n\nIqbal is an Indian Moslem. During his stay in the West he studied\nmodern philosophy, in which subject he holds degrees from the\nUniversities of Cambridge and Munich. His dissertation on the\ndevelopment of metaphysics in Persia--an illuminating sketch--appeared\nas a book in 1908. Since then he has developed a philosophy of his\nown, on which I am able to give some extremely interesting notes\ncommunicated by himself. Of this, however, the _Asr\u00e1r-i Khud\u00ed_ gives\nno systematic account, though it puts his ideas in a popular and\nattractive form. While the Hindu philosophers, in explaining the\ndoctrine of the unity of being, addressed themselves to the head,\nIqbal, like the Persian poets who teach the same doctrine, takes a\nmore dangerous course and aims at the heart. He is no mean poet, and\nhis verse can rouse or persuade even if his logic fail to convince.\nHis message is not for the Mohammedans of India alone, but for Moslems\neverywhere: accordingly he writes in Persian instead of Hindustani--a\nhappy choice, for amongst educated Moslems there are many familiar\nwith Persian literature, while the Persian language is singularly well\nadapted to express philosophical ideas in a style at once elevated and\ncharming.\n\nIqbal comes forward as an apostle, if not to his own age, then to\nposterity--\n\n  \u201cI have no need of the ear of To-day,\n  I am the voice of the poet of To-morrow\u201d--\n\nand after Persian fashion he invokes the Saki to fill his cup with wine\nand pour moonbeams into the dark night of his thought,\n\n  \u201cThat I may lead home the wanderer,\n  And imbue the idle looker-on with restless impatience,\n  And advance hotly on a new quest,\n  And become known as the champion of a new spirit.\u201d\n\nLet us begin at the end. What is the far-off goal on which his eyes are\nfixed? The answer to that question will discover his true character,\nand we shall be less likely to stumble on the way if we see whither we\nare going. Iqbal has drunk deep of European literature, his philosophy\nowes much to Nietzsche and Bergson, and his poetry often reminds us of\nShelley; yet he thinks and feels as a Moslem, and just for this reason\nhis influence may be great. He is a religious enthusiast, inspired by\nthe vision of a New Mecca, a world-wide, theocratic, Utopian state\nin which all Moslems, no longer divided by the barriers of race and\ncountry, shall be one. He will have nothing to do with nationalism\nand imperialism. These, he says, \u201crob us of Paradise\u201d: they make us\nstrangers to each other, destroy feelings of brotherhood, and sow the\nbitter seed of war. He dreams of a world ruled by religion, not by\npolitics, and condemns Machiavelli, that \u201cworshipper of false gods,\u201d\nwho has blinded so many. It must be observed that when he speaks of\nreligion he always means Islam. Non-Moslems are simply unbelievers,\nand (in theory, at any rate) the _Jih\u00e1d_ is justifiable, provided that\nit is waged \u201cfor God\u2019s sake alone.\u201d A free and independent Moslem\nfraternity, having the Ka\u00b4ba as its centre and knit together by love\nof Allah and devotion to the Prophet--such is Iqbal\u2019s ideal. In the\n_Asr\u00e1r-i Khud\u00ed_ and the _Rum\u00faz-i B\u00e9khud\u00ed_ he preaches it with a burning\nsincerity which we cannot but admire, and at the same time points out\nhow it may be attained. The former poem deals with the life of the\nindividual Moslem, the latter with the life of the Islamic community.\n\nThe cry \u201cBack to the Koran! Back to Mohammed!\u201d has been heard before,\nand the responses have hitherto been somewhat discouraging. But on\nthis occasion it is allied with the revolutionary force of Western\nphilosophy, which Iqbal hopes and believes will vitalise the movement\nand ensure its triumph. He sees that Hindu intellectualism and Islamic\npantheism have destroyed the capacity for action, based on scientific\nobservation and interpretation of phenomena, which distinguishes the\nWestern peoples \u201cand especially the English.\u201d Now, this capacity\ndepends ultimately on the conviction that _khud\u00ed_ (selfhood,\nindividuality, personality) is real and is not merely an illusion of\nthe mind. Iqbal, therefore, throws himself with all his might against\nidealistic philosophers and pseudo-mystical poets, the authors, in his\nopinion, of the decay prevailing in Islam, and argues that only by\nself-affirmation, self-expression, and self-development can the Moslems\nonce more become strong and free. He appeals from the alluring raptures\nof Hafiz to the moral fervour of Jal\u00e1lu\u00b4dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed, from an Islam sunk\nin Platonic contemplation to the fresh and vigorous monotheism which\ninspired Mohammed and brought Islam into existence.[2] Here, perhaps,\nI should guard against a possible misunderstanding. Iqbal\u2019s philosophy\nis religious, but he does not treat philosophy as the handmaid\nof religion. Holding that the full development of the individual\npresupposes a society, he finds the ideal society in what he considers\nto be the Prophet\u2019s conception of Islam. Every Moslem, in striving to\nmake himself a more perfect individual, is helping to establish the\nIslamic kingdom of God upon earth.[3]\n\nThe _Asr\u00e1r-i Khud\u00ed_ is composed in the metre and modelled on the\nstyle of the famous _Masnav\u00ed_. In the prologue Iqbal relates how\nJal\u00e1lu\u00b4dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed, who is to him almost what Virgil was to Dante,\nappeared in a vision and bade him arise and sing. Much as he dislikes\nthe type of S\u00fafism exhibited by Hafiz, he pays homage to the pure\nand profound genius of Jal\u00e1lu\u00b4dd\u00edn, though he rejects the doctrine\nof self-abandonment taught by the great Persian mystic and does not\naccompany him in his pantheistic flights.\n\nTo European readers the _Asr\u00e1r-i Khud\u00ed_ presents certain obscurities\nwhich no translation can entirely remove. These lie partly in the\nform and would not be felt, as a rule, by any one conversant with\nPersian poetry. Often, however, the ideas themselves, being associated\nwith peculiarly Oriental ways of thinking, are hard for our minds\nto follow. I am not sure that I have always grasped the meaning or\nrendered it correctly; but I hope that such errors are few, thanks to\nthe assistance so kindly given me by my friend Muhammad Shafi, now\nProfessor of Arabic at Lahore, with whom I read the poem and discussed\nmany points of difficulty. Other questions of a more fundamental\ncharacter have been solved for me by the author himself. At my request\nhe drew up a statement of his philosophical views on the problems\ntouched and suggested in the book. I will give it in his own words as\nnearly as possible, it is not, of course, a complete statement, and was\nwritten, as he says, \u201cin a great hurry,\u201d but apart from its power and\noriginality it elucidates the poetical argument far better than any\nexplanation that could have been offered by me.\n\n\n\u201c1. THE PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF THE _ASR\u00c1R-I KHUD\u00cd_\n\n\u201c\u2018That experience should take place in finite centres and should wear\nthe form of finite this-ness is in the end inexplicable.\u2019 These are the\nwords of Prof. Bradley. But starting with these inexplicable centres\nof experience, he ends in a unity which he calls Absolute and in which\nthe finite centres lose their finiteness and distinctness. According to\nhim, therefore, the finite centre is only an appearance. The test of\nreality, in his opinion, is all-inclusiveness; and since all finiteness\nis \u2018infected with relativity,\u2019 it follows that the latter is a mere\nillusion. To my mind, this inexplicable finite centre of experience is\nthe fundamental fact of the universe. All life is individual; there is\nno such thing as universal life. God himself is an individual: He is\nthe most unique individual.[4] The universe, as Dr. McTaggart says, is\nan association of individuals; but we must add that the orderliness\nand adjustment which we find in this association is not eternally\nachieved and complete in itself. It is the result of instinctive or\nconscious effort. We are gradually travelling from chaos to cosmos and\nare helpers in this achievement. Nor are the members of the association\nfixed; new members are ever coming to birth to co-operate in the great\ntask. Thus the universe is not a completed act: it is still in the\ncourse of formation. There can be no complete truth about the universe,\nfor the universe has not yet become \u2018whole.\u2019 The process of creation\nis still going on, and man too takes his share in it, inasmuch as he\nhelps to bring order into at least a portion of the chaos. The Koran\nindicates the possibility of other creators than God.[5]\n\n\u201cObviously, this view of man and the universe is opposed to that of\nthe English Neo-Hegelians as well as to all forms of pantheistic\nS\u00fafism which regard absorption in a universal life or soul as the\nfinal aim and salvation of man.[6] The moral and religious ideal of\nman is not self-negation but self-affirmation, and he attains to this\nideal by becoming more and more individual, more and more unique. The\nProphet said, \u2018_Takhallaq\u00fa bi-akhl\u00e1q Allah_,\u2019 \u2018Create in yourselves\nthe attributes of God.\u2019 Thus man becomes unique by becoming more\nand more like the most unique Individual. What then is life? It is\nindividual: its highest form, so far, is the Ego (_Khud\u00ed_) in which the\nindividual becomes a self-contained exclusive centre. Physically as\nwell as spiritually man is a self-contained centre, but he is not yet\na complete individual. The greater his distance from God, the less his\nindividuality. He who comes nearest to God is the completest person.\nNot that he is finally absorbed in God. On the contrary, he absorbs\nGod into himself.[7] The true person not only absorbs the world of\nmatter; by mastering it he absorbs God Himself into his Ego. Life is a\nforward assimilative movement. It removes all obstructions in its march\nby assimilating them. Its essence is the continual creation of desires\nand ideals, and for the purpose of its preservation and expansion it\nhas invented or developed out of itself certain instruments, _e.g._\nsenses, intellect, etc., which help it to assimilate obstructions.[8]\nThe greatest obstacle in the way of life is matter, Nature; yet Nature\nis not evil, since it enables the inner powers of life to unfold\nthemselves.\n\n\u201cThe Ego attains to freedom by the removal of all obstructions in\nits way. It is partly free, partly determined,[9] and reaches fuller\nfreedom by approaching the Individual who is most free--God. In one\nword, life is an endeavour for freedom.\n\n\n\u201c2. THE EGO AND CONTINUATION OF PERSONALITY\n\n\u201cIn man the centre of life becomes an Ego or Person. Personality is a\nstate of tension and can continue only if that state is maintained.\nIf the state of tension is not maintained, relaxation will ensue.\nSince personality, or the state of tension, is the most valuable\nachievement of man, he should see that he does not revert to a state of\nrelaxation. That which tends to maintain the state of tension tends to\nmake us immortal. Thus the idea of personality gives us a standard of\nvalue: it settles the problem of good and evil. That which fortifies\npersonality is good, that which weakens it is bad. Art,[10] religion,\nand ethics[11] must be judged from the standpoint of personality. My\ncriticism of Plato[12] is directed against those philosophical systems\nwhich hold up death rather than life as their ideal--systems which\nignore the greatest obstruction to life, namely, matter, and teach us\nto run away from it instead of absorbing it.\n\n\u201cAs in connexion with the question of the freedom of the Ego we have to\nface the problem of matter, similarly in connexion with its immortality\nwe have to face the problem of time.[13] Bergson has taught us that\ntime is not an infinite line (in the spatial sense of the word \u2018line\u2019)\nthrough which we must pass whether we wish it or not. This idea of\ntime is adulterated. Pure time has no length. Personal immortality is\nan aspiration: you can have it if you make an effort to achieve it.\nIt depends on our adopting in this life modes of thought and activity\nwhich tend to maintain the state of tension. Buddhism, Persian S\u00fafism,\nand allied forms of ethics will not serve our purpose. But they are\nnot wholly useless, because after periods of great activity we need\nopiates, narcotics, for some time. These forms of thought and action\nare like nights in the days of life. Thus, if our activity is directed\ntowards the maintenance of a state of tension, the shock of death\nis not likely to affect it. After death there may be an interval of\nrelaxation, as the Koran speaks of a _barzakh_, or intermediate state,\nwhich lasts until the Day of Resurrection.[14] Only those Egos will\nsurvive this state of relaxation who have taken good care during the\npresent life. Although life abhors repetition in its evolution, yet on\nBergson\u2019s principles the resurrection of the body too, as Wildon Carr\nsays, is quite possible. By breaking up time into moments we spatialise\nit and then find difficulty in getting over it. The true nature of\ntime is reached when we look into our deeper self.[15] Real time is\nlife itself, which can preserve itself by maintaining that particular\nstate of tension (personality) which it has so far achieved. We are\nsubject to time so long as we look upon time as something spatial.\nSpatialised time is a fetter which life has forged for itself in order\nto assimilate the present environment. In reality we are timeless, and\nit is possible to realise our timelessness even in this life. This\nrevelation, however, can be momentary only.\n\n\n\u201c3. THE EDUCATION OF THE EGO\n\n\u201cThe Ego is fortified by love (_\u2019ishq_).[16] This word is used in a\nvery wide sense and means the desire to assimilate, to absorb. Its\nhighest form is the creation of values and ideals and the endeavour to\nrealise them. Love individualises the lover as well as the beloved.\nThe effort to realise the most unique individuality individualises the\nseeker and implies the individuality of the sought, for nothing else\nwould satisfy the nature of the seeker. As love fortifies the Ego,\nasking (_su\u00b4\u00e1l_) weakens it.[17] All that is achieved without personal\neffort comes under _su\u00b4\u00e1l_. The son of a rich man who inherits his\nfather\u2019s wealth is an \u2018asker\u2019 (beggar); so is every one who thinks\nthe thoughts of others. Thus, in order to fortify the Ego we should\ncultivate love, _i.e._ the power of assimilative action, and avoid all\nforms of \u2018asking,\u2019 _i.e._ inaction. The lesson of assimilative action\nis given by the life of the Prophet, at least to a Mohammedan.\n\n\u201cIn another part of the poem[18] I have hinted at the general\nprinciples of Moslem ethics and have tried to reveal their meaning in\nconnexion with the idea of personality. The Ego in its movement towards\nuniqueness has to pass through three stages:\n\n  (_a_) Obedience to the Law.\n\n  (_b_) Self-control, which is the highest form of self-consciousness\n        or Ego-hood.[19]\n\n  (_c_) Divine vicegerency.[20]\n\n\u201cThis (divine vicegerency, _niy\u00e1bat-i il\u00e1h\u00ed_) is the third and last\nstage of human development on earth. The _n\u00e1\u00b4ib_ (vicegerent) is\nthe vicegerent of God on earth. He is the completest Ego, the goal\nof humanity,[21] the acme of life both in mind and body; in him the\ndiscord of our mental life becomes a harmony. The highest power is\nunited in him with the highest knowledge. In his life, thought and\naction, instinct and reason, become one. He is the last fruit of the\ntree of humanity, and all the trials of a painful evolution are\njustified because he is to come at the end. He is the real ruler\nof mankind; his kingdom is the kingdom of God on earth. Out of the\nrichness of his nature he lavishes the wealth of life on others, and\nbrings them nearer and nearer to himself. The more we advance in\nevolution, the nearer we get to him. In approaching him we are raising\nourselves in the scale of life. The development of humanity both in\nmind and body is a condition precedent to his birth. For the present\nhe is a mere ideal; but the evolution of humanity is tending towards\nthe production of an ideal race of more or less unique individuals who\nwill become his fitting parents. Thus the Kingdom of God on earth means\nthe democracy of more or less unique individuals, presided over by the\nmost unique individual possible on this earth. Nietzsche had a glimpse\nof this ideal race, but his atheism and aristocratic prejudices marred\nhis whole conception.\u201d[22]\n\nEvery one, I suppose, will acknowledge that the substance of the\n_Asr\u00e1r-i Khud\u00ed_ is striking enough to command attention. In the poem,\nnaturally, this philosophy presents itself under a different aspect.\nIts audacity of thought and phrase is less apparent, its logical\nbrilliancy dissolves in the glow of feeling and imagination, and it\nwins the heart before taking possession of the mind. The artistic\nquality of the poem is remarkable when we consider that its language\nis not the author\u2019s own. I have done my best to preserve as much of\nthis as a literal prose translation would allow. Many passages of\nthe original are poetry of the kind that, once read, is not easily\nforgotten, _e.g._ the description of the Ideal Man as a deliverer for\nwhom the world is waiting, and the noble invocation which brings the\nbook to an end. Like Jal\u00e1lu\u00b4dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed, Iqbal is fond of introducing\nfables and apologues to relieve the argument and illustrate his meaning\nwith more force and point than would be possible otherwise.\n\nOn its first appearance the _Asr\u00e1r-i Khud\u00ed_ took by storm the younger\ngeneration of Indian Moslems. \u201cIqbal,\u201d wrote one of them, \u201chas come\namongst us as a Messiah and has stirred the dead with life.\u201d It remains\nto be seen in what direction the awakened ones will march. Will they\nbe satisfied with a glorious but distant vision of the City of God, or\nwill they adapt the new doctrine to other ends than those which its\nauthor has in view? Notwithstanding that he explicitly denounces the\nidea of nationalism, his admirers are already protesting that he does\nnot mean what he says.\n\nHow far the influence of his work may ultimately go I will not attempt\nto prophesy. It has been said of him that \u201che is a man of his age and\na man in advance of his age; he is also a man in disagreement with\nhis age.\u201d We cannot regard his ideas as typical of any section of his\nco-religionists. They involve a radical change in the Moslem mind, and\ntheir real importance is not to be measured by the fact that such a\nchange is unlikely to occur within a calculable time.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] The present translation follows the text of the second edition.\n\n[2] His criticism of Hafiz called forth angry protests from S\u00faf\u00ed\ncircles in which Hafiz is venerated as a master-hierophant. Iqbal made\nno recantation, but since the passage had served its purpose and was\noffensive to many, he cancelled it in the second edition of the poem.\nIt is omitted in my translation.\n\n[3] The principles of Islam, regarded as the ideal society, are set\nforth in the author\u2019s second poem, the _Rum\u00faz-i B\u00e9khud\u00ed_ or \u201cMysteries\nof Selflessness.\u201d He explains the title by pointing out that the\nindividual who loses himself in the community reflects both the past\nand the future as in a mirror, so that he transcends mortality and\nenters into the life of Islam, which is infinite and everlasting. Among\nthe topics discussed are the origin of society, the divine guidance of\nman through the prophets, the formation of collective life-centres, and\nthe value of History as a factor in maintaining the sense of personal\nidentity in a people.\n\n[4] This view was held by the orthodox Im\u00e1m Ahmad ibn Hanbal in its\nextreme (anthropomorphic) form.\n\n[5] Kor. ch. 23, v. 14: \u201cBlessed is God, the best of those who create.\u201d\n\n[6] Cf. his note on \u201cIslam and Mysticism\u201d (_The New Era_, 1916, p. 250).\n\n[7] Here Iqbal adds: \u201cMaul\u00e1n\u00e1 R\u00fam\u00ed has very beautifully expressed this\nidea. The Prophet, when a little boy, was once lost in the desert. His\nnurse Hal\u00edma was almost beside herself with grief, but while roaming\nthe desert in search of the boy she heard a voice saying:\n\n  \u2018Do not grieve, he will not be lost to thee;\n  Nay, the whole world will be lost in him.\u2019\n\nThe true individual cannot be lost in the world; it is the world that\nis lost in him. I go a step further and say, prefixing a new half-verse\nto a hemistich of R\u00fam\u00ed (Transl. l. 1325):\n\n  In his will that which God wills becomes lost:\n  \u2018How shall a man believe this saying?\u2019\u201d\n\n[8] Transl. l. 289 foll.\n\n[9] According to the Tradition, \u201cThe true Faith is between\npredestination and freewill.\u201d\n\n[10] Transl. l. 673 foll. In a note on \u201cOur Prophet\u2019s criticism of\ncontemporary Arabian poetry\u201d (_The New Era_, 1916, p. 251) Iqbal\nwrites: \u201cThe ultimate end of all human activity is Life--glorious,\npowerful, exuberant. All human art must be subordinated to this final\npurpose, and the value of everything must be determined in reference to\nits life-yielding capacity. The highest art is that which awakens our\ndormant will-force and nerves us to face the trials of life manfully.\nAll that brings drowsiness and makes us shut our eyes to Reality\naround, on the mastery of which alone Life depends, is a message of\ndecay and death. There should be no opium-eating in Art. The dogma of\nArt for the sake of Art is a clever invention of decadence to cheat us\nout of life and power.\u201d\n\n[11] _Ibid._ l. 537 foll.\n\n[12] _Ibid._ l. 631 foll.\n\n[13] _Ibid._ l. 1531 foll.\n\n[14] Kor. ch. 23, v. 102.\n\n[15] Transl. l. 1549 foll.\n\n[16] _Ibid._ l. 323 foll.\n\n[17] _Ibid._ l. 435 foll.\n\n[18] _Ibid._ l. 815 foll.\n\n[19] _Ibid._ l. 849 foll.\n\n[20] _Ibid._ l. 893 foll.\n\n[21] Man already possesses the germ of vicegerency, as God says in the\nKoran (ch. 2, v. 28): \u201cLo, I will appoint a _khalifa_ (vicegerent) on\nthe earth.\u201d Cf. Transl. l. 434.\n\n[22] Writing of \u201cMuslim Democracy\u201d in _The New Era_, 1916, p. 251,\nIqbal says: \u201cThe Democracy of Europe--overshadowed by socialistic\nagitation and anarchical fear--originated mainly in the economic\nregeneration of European societies. Nietzsche, however, abhors this\n\u2018rule of the herd\u2019 and, hopeless of the plebeian, he bases all higher\nculture on the cultivation and growth of an Aristocracy of Supermen.\nBut is the plebeian so absolutely hopeless? The Democracy of Islam\ndid not grow out of the extension of economic opportunity; it is a\nspiritual principle based on the assumption that every human being is a\ncentre of latent power, the possibilities of which can be developed by\ncultivating a certain type of character. Out of the plebeian material\nIslam has formed men of the noblest type of life and power. Is not,\nthen, the Democracy of early Islam an experimental refutation of the\nideas of Nietzsche?\u201d\n\n\n\n\nPROLOGUE\n\n\n  When the world-illuming sun rushed upon Night like a brigand,\n  My weeping bedewed the face of the rose.\n  My tears washed away sleep from the eye of the narcissus,\n  My passion wakened the grass and made it grow.\n  The Gardener taught me to sing with power,                         5\n  He sowed a verse and reaped a sword.\n  In the soil he planted only the seed of my tears\n  And wove my lament with the garden, as warp and woof.\n  Tho\u2019 I am but a mote, the radiant sun is mine:\n  Within my bosom are a hundred dawns.                              10\n  My dust is brighter than Jamsh\u00edd\u2019s cup,[23]\n  It knows things that are yet unborn in the world.\n  My thought hunted down and slung from the saddle a deer\n  That has not yet leaped forth from the covert of\n      non-existence.\n  Fair is my garden ere yet the leaves are green:                   15\n  Full-blown roses are hidden in the skirt of my garment.\n  I struck dumb the musicians where they were gathered\n      together,\n  I smote the heartstrings of all that heard me,\n  Because the lute of my genius hath a rare melody:\n  Even to comrades my song is strange.                              20\n  I am born in the world as a new sun,\n  I have not learned the ways and fashions of the sky:\n  Not yet have the stars fled before my splendour,\n  Not yet is my quicksilver astir;\n  Untouched is the sea by my dancing rays,                          25\n  Untouched are the mountains by my crimson hue.\n  The eye of existence is not familiar with me;\n  I rise trembling, afraid to show myself.\n  From the East my dawn arrived and routed Night,\n  A fresh dew settled on the rose of the world.                     30\n  I am waiting for the votaries that rise at dawn:\n  Oh, happy they who shall worship my fire!\n  I have no need of the ear of To-day,\n  I am the voice of the poet of To-morrow.\n  My own age does not understand my deep meanings,                  35\n  My Joseph is not for this market.\n  I despair of my old companions,\n  My Sinai burns for sake of the Moses who is coming.\n  Their sea is silent, like dew,\n  But my dew is storm-ridden, like the ocean.                       40\n  My song is of another world than theirs:\n  This bell calls other travellers to take the road.\n  How many a poet after his death\n  Opened our eyes when his own were closed,\n  And journeyed forth again from nothingness                        45\n  When roses blossomed o\u2019er the earth of his grave!\n  Albeit caravans have passed through this desert,\n  They passed, as a camel steps, with little sound.\n  But I am a lover: loud crying is my faith:\n  The clamour of Judgement Day is one of my minions.                50\n  My song exceeds the range of the chord,\n  Yet I do not fear that my lute will break.\n  \u2018Twere better for the waterdrop not to know my torrent,\n  Whose fury should rather madden the sea.\n  No river will contain my Om\u00e1n:[24]                                55\n  My flood requires whole seas to hold it.\n  Unless the bud expand into a bed of roses,\n  It is unworthy of my spring-cloud\u2019s bounty.\n  Lightnings slumber within my soul,\n  I sweep over mountain and plain.                                  60\n  Wrestle with my sea, if thou art a plain;\n  Receive my lightning, if thou art a Sinai.\n  The Fountain of Life hath been given me to drink,\n  I have been made an adept of the mystery of Life.\n  The speck of dust was vitalised by my burning song:               65\n  It unfolded wings and became a firefly.\n  No one hath told the secret which I will tell\n  Or threaded a pearl of thought like mine.\n  Come, if thou would\u2019st know the secret of everlasting life!\n  Come, if thou would\u2019st win both earth and heaven!                 70\n  The old Guru of the Sky taught me this lore,\n  I cannot hide it from my comrades.\n\n  O Saki! arise and pour wine into the cup,\n  Clear the vexation of Time from my heart!\n  The sparkling liquor that flows from Zemzem--[25]                 75\n  Were it a beggar, a king would pay homage to it.\n  It makes thought more sober and wise,\n  It makes the keen eye keener,\n  It gives to a straw the weight of a mountain,\n  And to foxes the strength of lions.                               80\n  It causes dust to soar to the Pleiades\n  And a drop of water swell to the breadth of the sea.\n  It turns silence into the din of Judgement Day,\n  It makes the foot of the partridge red with blood of the\n      hawk.\n  Arise and pour pure wine into my cup,                             85\n  Pour moonbeams into the dark night of my thought,\n  That I may lead home the wanderer\n  And imbue the idle looker-on with restless impatience;\n  And advance hotly on a new quest\n  And become known as the champion of a new spirit;                 90\n  And be to people of insight as the pupil to the eye,\n  And sink into the ear of the world, like a voice;\n  And exalt the worth of Poesy\n  And sprinkle the dry herbs with my tears.\n  Inspired by the genius of the Master of R\u00fam,[26]                  95\n  I rehearse the sealed book of secret lore.\n  His soul is the source of the flames,\n  I am but as the spark that gleams for a moment.\n  His burning candle consumed me, the moth;\n  His wine overwhelmed my goblet.                                  100\n  The Master of R\u00fam transmuted my earth to gold\n  And clothed my barren dust with beauty.\n  The grain of sand set forth from the desert,\n  That it might win the radiance of the sun.\n  I am a wave and I will come to rest in his sea,                  105\n  That I may make the glistening pearl mine own.\n  I who am drunken with the wine of his song\n  Will draw life from the breath of his words.\n\n  \u2018Twas night: my heart would fain lament,\n  The silence was filled with my cries to God.                     110\n  I was complaining of the sorrows of the world\n  And bewailing the emptiness of my cup.\n  At last mine eye could endure no more,\n  Broken with fatigue it went to sleep.\n  There appeared the Master, formed in the mould of Truth,         115\n  Who wrote the Koran of Persia.[27]\n  He said, \u201cO frenzied lover,\n  Take a draught of love\u2019s pure wine.\n  Strike the chords of thine heart and rouse a tumultuous\n      strain,\n  Dash thine head against the cupping-glass and thine eye\n      against the lancet!                                          120\n  Make thy laughter the source of a hundred sighs,\n  Make the hearts of men bleed with thy tears!\n  How long wilt thou be silent, like a bud?\n  Sell thy fragrance cheap, like the rose!\n  Tongue-tied, thou art in pain:                                   125\n  Cast thyself upon the fire, like rue![28]\n  Like the bell, break silence at last, and from every limb\n  Utter forth a lamentation!\n  Thou art fire: fill the world with thy glow!\n  Make others burn with thy burning!                               130\n  Proclaim the secrets of the old wine-seller;[29]\n  Be thou a surge of wine, and the crystal cup thy robe!\n  Shatter the mirror of fear,\n  Break the bottles in the bazaar!\n  Like the reed-flute, bring a message from the reeds;             135\n  Give to Majn\u00fan a message from Lail\u00e1![30]\n  Create a new style for thy song,\n  Enrich the feast with thy piercing strains!\n  Up, and re-inspire every living soul!\n  Say \u2018Arise!\u2019 and by that word quicken the living!                140\n  Up, and set thy feet on another path;\n  Put aside the passionate melancholy of old!\n  Become familiar with the delight of singing;\n  O bell of the caravan, awake!\u201d\n\n  At these words my bosom was enkindled                            145\n  And swelled with emotion like the flute;\n  I rose like music from the string\n  To prepare a Paradise for the ear.\n  I unveiled the mystery of the Self\n  And disclosed its wondrous secret.                               150\n\n  My being was as an unfinished statue,\n  Uncomely, worthless, good for nothing.\n  Love chiselled me: I became a man\n  And gained knowledge of the nature of the universe.\n  I have seen the movement of the sinews of the sky,               155\n  And the blood coursing in the veins of the moon.\n  Many a night I wept for Man\u2019s sake\n  That I might tear the veil from Life\u2019s mysteries,\n  And extract the secret of Life\u2019s constitution\n  From the laboratory of phenomena.                                160\n  I who give beauty to this night, like the moon,\n  Am as dust in devotion to the pure Faith (Islam)--\n  A Faith renowned in hill and dale,\n  Which kindles in men\u2019s hearts a flame of undying song:\n  It sowed an atom and reaped a sun,                               165\n  It harvested a hundred poets like R\u00fam\u00ed and Att\u00e1r.\n  I am a sigh: I will mount to the heavens;\n  I am a breath, yet am I sprung of fire.\n  Driven onward by high thoughts, my pen\n  Cast abroad the secret of this veil,                             170\n  That the drop may become co-equal with the sea\n  And the grain of sand grow into a Sahara.\n  Poetising is not the aim of this _masnav\u00ed_,\n  Beauty-worshipping and love-making is not its aim.\n  I am of India: Persian is not my native tongue;                  175\n  I am like the crescent moon: my cup is not full.\n  Do not seek from me charm of style in exposition,\n  Do not seek from me Kh\u00e1ns\u00e1r and Isfahan.[31]\n  Although the language of Hind is sweet as sugar,\n  Yet sweeter is the fashion of Persian speech.                    180\n  My mind was enchanted by its loveliness,\n  My pen became as a twig of the Burning Bush.\n  Because of the loftiness of my thoughts,\n  Persian alone is suitable to them.\n  O Reader, do not find fault with the wine-cup,                   185\n  But consider attentively the taste of the wine.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[23] Jamsh\u00edd, one of the mythical Persian kings, is said to have\npossessed a marvellous cup in which the whole world was displayed to\nhim.\n\n[24] The Sea of Om\u00e1n is a name given by the Arabs to the Persian Gulf.\n\n[25] The holy well at Mecca.\n\n[26] Jal\u00e1lu\u00b4dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed, the greatest mystical poet of Persia (A.D.\n1207-1273). Most of his life was passed at Iconium in Galatia, for\nwhich reason he is generally known as \u201cR\u00fam\u00ed,\u201d _i.e._ \u201cthe Anatolian.\u201d\n\n[27] This refers to the famous _Masnav\u00ed_ of Jal\u00e1lu\u00b4dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed.\n\n[28] Rue-seed, which is burned for the purpose of fumigation, crackles\nin the fire.\n\n[29] \u201cWine\u201d signifies the mysteries of divine love.\n\n[30] Majn\u00fan is the Orlando Furioso of Arabia.\n\n[31] Kh\u00e1ns\u00e1r, which lies about a hundred miles northwest of Isfahan,\nwas the birth-place of several Persian poets.\n\n\n\n\nI\n\n_Showing that the system of the universe originates in the Self and\nthat the continuation of the life of all individuals depends on\nstrengthening the Self._\n\n\n  The form of existence is an effect of the Self,\n  Whatsoever thou seest is a secret of the Self.\n  When the Self awoke to consciousness,\n  It revealed the universe of Thought.                             190\n  A hundred worlds are hidden in its essence:\n  Self-affirmation brings Not-self to light.\n  By the Self the seed of hostility is sown in the world:\n  It imagines itself to be other than itself.\n  It makes from itself the forms of others                         195\n  In order to multiply the pleasure of strife.\n  It is slaying by the strength of its arm\n  That it may become conscious of its own strength.\n  Its self-deceptions are the essence of Life;\n  Like the rose, it lives by bathing itself in blood.              200\n  For the sake of a single rose it destroys a hundred\n      rose-gardens\n  And makes a hundred lamentations in quest of a single melody.\n  For one sky it produces a hundred new moons,\n  And for one word a hundred discourses.\n  The excuse for this wastefulness and cruelty                     205\n  Is the shaping and perfecting of spiritual beauty.\n  The loveliness of Sh\u00edr\u00edn justifies the anguish of Farh\u00e1d,[32]\n  The fragrant navel justifies a hundred musk-deer.\n  \u2018Tis the fate of moths to consume in flame:\n  The suffering of moths is justified by the candle.               210\n  The pencil of the Self limned a hundred to-days\n  In order to achieve the dawn of a single morrow.\n  Its flames burned a hundred Abrahams[33]\n  That the lamp of one Mohammed might be lighted.\n  Subject, object, means, and causes--                             215\n  They all exist for the purpose of action.\n  The Self rises, kindles, falls, glows, breathes,\n  Burns, shines, walks, and flies.\n  The spaciousness of Time is its arena,\n  Heaven is a billow of the dust on its road.                      220\n  From its rose-planting the world abounds in roses;\n  Night is born of its sleep, day springs from its waking.\n  It divided its flame into sparks\n  And taught the understanding to worship particulars.\n  It dissolved itself and created the atoms,                       225\n  It was scattered for a little while and created the sands.\n  Then it wearied of dispersion\n  And by re-uniting itself it became the mountains.\n  \u2018Tis the nature of the Self to manifest itself:\n  In every atom slumbers the might of the Self.                    230\n  Power that is unexpressed and inert\n  Chains the faculties which lead to action.\n  Inasmuch as the life of the universe comes from the strength\n      of the Self,\n  Life is in proportion to this strength.\n  When a drop of water gets the Self\u2019s lesson by heart,            235\n  It makes its worthless existence a pearl.\n  Wine is formless because its self is weak;\n  It receives a form by favour of the cup.\n  Although the cup of wine assumes a form,\n  It is indebted to us for its motion.                             240\n  When the mountain loses its self, it turns into sands\n  And complains that the sea surges over it;\n  But the wave, so long as it remains a wave in the sea\u2019s bosom,\n  Makes itself a rider on the sea\u2019s back.\n  Light has been a beggar since the eye first rolled               245\n  And moved to and fro in search of beauty;\n  But forasmuch as the grass found a means of growth in its\n      self,\n  Its aspiration clove the breast of the garden.\n  The candle too concatenated itself\n  And built itself out of atoms;                                   250\n  Then it made a practice of melting itself away and fled from\n      its self\n  Until at last it trickled down from its own eye, like tears.\n  If the bezel had been more self-secure by nature,\n  It would not have suffered wounds,\n  But since it derives its value from the superscription,          255\n  Its shoulder is galled by the burden of another\u2019s name.\n  Because the earth is firmly based on self-existence,\n  The captive moon goes round it perpetually.\n  The being of the sun is stronger than that of the earth:\n  Therefore is the earth bewitched by the sun\u2019s eye.               260\n  The glory of the plane fixes our gaze,\n  The mountains are enriched by its majesty:\n  Its raiment is woven of fire,\n  Its origin is one self-assertive seed.\n  When Life gathers strength from the Self,                        265\n  The river of Life expands into an ocean.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[32] Sh\u00edr\u00edn was loved by the Persian emperor Khusrau Parw\u00edz. Farh\u00e1d\nfell in love with her and cast himself down a precipice on hearing a\nfalse rumour of her death.\n\n[33] Abraham is said to have been cast on a burning pile by order of\nNimrod and miraculously preserved from harm.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\n_Showing that the life of the Self comes from forming desires and\nbringing them to birth._\n\n\n  Life is preserved by purpose:\n  Because of the goal its caravan-bell tinkles.\n  Life is latent in seeking,\n  Its origin is hidden in desire.                                  270\n  Keep desire alive in thy heart,\n  Lest thy little dust become a tomb.\n  Desire is the soul of this world of hue and scent,\n  The nature of every thing is faithful to desire.\n  Desire sets the heart dancing in the breast,                     275\n  And by its glow the breast is made bright as a mirror.\n  It gives to earth the power of soaring,\n  It is a Khizr to the Moses of perception.[34]\n  From the flame of desire the heart takes life,\n  And when it takes life, all dies that is not true.               280\n  When it refrains from forming wishes,\n  Its pinion breaks and it cannot soar.\n  Desire is an emotion of the Self:\n  It is a restless wave of the Self\u2019s sea.\n  Desire is a noose for hunting ideals,                            285\n  A binder of the book of deeds.\n  Negation of desire is death to the living,\n  Even as absence of burning extinguishes the flame.\n  What is the source of our wakeful eye?\n  Our delight in seeing hath taken visible shape.                  290\n  The partridge\u2019s leg is derived from the elegance of its gait,\n  The nightingale\u2019s beak from its endeavour to sing.\n  Away from the reed-bed, the reed became happy:\n  The music was released from its prison.[35]\n  Why does the mind strive after new\n      discoveries and scale the heavens?                           295\n  Knowest thou what works this miracle?\n  \u2018Tis desire that enriches Life,\n  And the intellect is a child of its womb.\n  What are social organisation, customs, and laws?\n  What is the secret of the novelties of science?                  300\n  A desire which broke through by its own strength\n  And burst forth from the heart and took shape.\n  Nose, hand, brain, eye, and ear,\n  Thought, imagination, feeling, memory, and understanding--\n  All these are weapons devised for self-preservation              305\n  By him that rides into the battle of Life.\n  The object of science and art is not knowledge,\n  The object of the garden is not the bud and the flower.\n  Science is an instrument for the preservation of Life,\n  Science is a means of establishing the Self.                     310\n  Science and art are servants of Life,\n  Slaves born and bred in its house.\n  Rise, O thou who art strange to Life\u2019s mystery,\n  Rise intoxicated with the wine of an ideal!\n  If thou art an ideal, thou wilt shine as the dawn                315\n  And be to all else as a blazing fire.\n  If thou art an ideal, thou art higher than Heaven--\n  Winning, captivating, enchanting men\u2019s hearts;\n  A destroyer of ancient falsehood,\n  Fraught with turmoil, an embodiment of the Last Day.             320\n  We live by forming ideals,\n  We glow with the sunbeams of desire!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[34] Cf. Koran, ch. 18, vv. 64-80. Khizr represents the mystic seer\nwhose actions are misjudged by persons of less insight.\n\n[35] _I.e._ the reed was made into a flute.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n_Showing that the Self is strengthened by Love._[36]\n\n\n  The luminous point whose name is the Self\n  Is the life-spark beneath our dust.\n  By Love it is made more lasting,                                 325\n  More living, more burning, more glowing.\n  From Love proceeds the radiance of its being\n  And the development of its unknown possibilities.\n  Its nature gathers fire from Love,\n  Love instructs it to illumine the world.                         330\n  Love fears neither sword nor dagger,\n  Love is not born of water and air and earth.\n  Love makes peace and war in the world,\n  The Fountain of Life is Love\u2019s flashing sword.\n  The hardest rocks are shivered by Love\u2019s glance:                 335\n  Love of God at last becomes wholly God.\n  Learn thou to love, and seek to be loved:\n  Seek an eye like Noah\u2019s, a heart like Job\u2019s!\n  Transmute thy handful of earth into gold,\n  Kiss the threshold of a Perfect Man![37]                         340\n  Like R\u00fam\u00ed, light thy candle\n  And burn R\u00fam in the fire of Tabr\u00edz![38]\n  There is a beloved hidden within thine heart:\n  I will show him to thee, if thou hast eyes to see.\n  His lovers are fairer than the fair,                             345\n  Sweeter and comelier and more beloved.\n  By love of him the heart is made strong\n  And earth rubs shoulders with the Pleiades.\n  The soil of Najd was quickened by his grace\n  And fell into a rapture and rose to the skies.[39]               350\n  In the Moslem\u2019s heart is the home of Mohammed,\n  All our glory is from the name of Mohammed.\n  Sinai is but an eddy of the dust of his house,\n  The sanctuary of the Ka\u2019ba is his dwelling-place.\n  Eternity is less than a moment of his time,                      355\n  Eternity receives increase from his essence.\n  He slept on a mat of rushes,\n  But the crown of Chosroes was under his people\u2019s feet.\n  He chose the nightly solitude of Mount Hir\u00e1,\n  And he founded a state and laws and government.                  360\n  He passed many a night with sleepless eyes\n  In order that the Moslems might sleep on the throne of\n      Persia.\n  In the hour of battle, iron was melted by his sword;\n  In the hour of prayer, tears fell like rain from his eye.\n  When he was called to aid, his sword answered \u201cAmen\u201d             365\n  And extirpated the race of kings.\n  He instituted new laws in the world,\n  He brought the empires of antiquity to an end.\n  With the key of religion he opened the door of this world:\n  The womb of the world never bore his like.                       370\n  In his sight high and low were one,\n  He sat with his slave at one table.\n  The daughter of the chieftain of Tai was taken prisoner in\n      battle[40]\n  And brought into that exalted presence;\n  Her feet in chains, unveiled,                                    375\n  And her neck bowed with shame.\n  When the Prophet saw that the poor girl had no veil,\n  He covered her face with his own veil.\n  We are more naked than that lady of Tai,\n  We are unveiled before the nations of the world.                 380\n  In him is our trust on the Day of Judgement,\n  And in this world too he is our protector.\n  Both his favour and his wrath are entirely a mercy:\n  That is a mercy to his friends and this to his foes.\n  He opened the gates of mercy to his enemies,                     385\n  He gave to Mecca the message, \u201cNo blame shall be laid upon\n      you.\u201d\n  We who know not the bonds of country\n  Resemble sight, which is one though it be the light of two\n      eyes.\n  We belong to the Hij\u00e1z and China and Persia,\n  Yet we are the dew of one smiling dawn.                          390\n  We are all under the spell of the eye of the cupbearer from\n      Mecca,\n  We are united as wine and cup.\n  He burnt clean away distinctions of lineage,\n  His fire consumed this trash and rubble.\n  We are like a rose with many petals but with one perfume:        395\n  He is the soul of this society, and he is one.\n  We were the secret concealed in his heart:\n  He spake out fearlessly, and we were revealed.\n  The song of love for him fills my silent reed,\n  A hundred notes throb in my bosom.                               400\n  How shall I tell what devotion he inspires?\n  A block of dry wood wept at parting from him.[41]\n  The Moslem\u2019s being is where he manifests his glory:\n  Many a Sinai springs from the dust on his path.\n  My image was created by his mirror,                              405\n  My dawn rises from the sun of his breast.\n  My repose is a perpetual fever,\n  My evening hotter than the morning of Judgement Day:[42]\n  He is the April cloud and I his garden,\n  My vine is bedewed with his rain.                                410\n  I sowed mine eye in the field of Love\n  And reaped a harvest of delight.\n  \u201cThe soil of Medina is sweeter than both worlds:\n  Oh, happy the town where dwells the Beloved!\u201d[43]\n  I am lost in admiration of the style of Mull\u00e1 J\u00e1m\u00ed:              415\n  His verse and prose are a remedy for my immaturity.\n  He has written poetry overflowing with beautiful ideas\n  And has threaded pearls in praise of the Master--\n  \u201cMohammed is the preface to the book of the universe:\n  All the world are slaves and he is the Master.\u201d                  420\n  From the wine of Love spring many qualities:\n  Amongst the attributes of Love is blind devotion.\n  The saint of Bist\u00e1m, who in devotion was unique,\n  Abstained from eating a water-melon.[44]\n  Be a lover constant in devotion to thy beloved,                  425\n  That thou mayst cast thy noose and capture God.\n  Sojourn for a while on the Hir\u00e1 of the heart,[45]\n  Abandon self and flee to God.\n  Strengthened by God, return to thy self\n  And break the heads of the L\u00e1t and Uzz\u00e1 of sensuality.[46]       430\n  By the might of Love evoke an army,\n  Reveal thyself on the F\u00e1r\u00e1n of Love,[47]\n  That the Lord of the Ka\u2019ba may show thee favour\n  And interpret to thee the text, \u201cLo, I will appoint a\n      vicegerent on the earth.\u201d[48]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[36] For the sense which Iqbal attaches to the word \u201clove,\u201d see the\nIntroduction, section 3. THE EDUCATION OF THE EGO.\n\n[37] A prophet or saint.\n\n[38] See note 26 on l. 95. Tabr\u00edz is an allusion to Shams-i Tabr\u00edz, the\nspiritual director of Jal\u00e1lu\u2019dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed.\n\n[39] Najd, the Highlands of Arabia, is celebrated in love-romance. I\nneed only mention Lail\u00e1 and Majn\u00fan.\n\n[40] Her father, H\u00e1tim of Tai, is proverbial in the East for his\nhospitality.\n\n[41] The story of the pulpit that wept when Mohammed descended from it\noccurs, I think, in the _Masnav\u00ed_.\n\n[42] When, according to Mohammedan belief, the sun will rise in the\nwest.\n\n[43] A quotation from the _Masnav\u00ed_. The Prophet was buried at Medina.\n\n[44] B\u00e1yaz\u00edd of Bist\u00e1m died in A.D. 875. He refused to eat a\nwater-melon, saying he had no assurance that the Prophet had ever\ntasted that fruit.\n\n[45] Mohammed used to retire to a cave on Mount Hir\u00e1, near Mecca, for\nthe purpose of solitary meditation and other ascetic observances.\n\n[46] L\u00e1t and Uzz\u00e1 were goddesses worshipped by the heathen Arabs.\n\n[47] F\u00e1r\u00e1n, name of a mountain in the neighbourhood of Mecca.\n\n[48] Koran, ch. 2, v. 28. In these words, which were addressed to the\nangels, God foretold the creation of Adam.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\n_Showing that the Self is weakened by asking._\n\n\n  O thou who hast gathered taxes from lions,                       435\n  Thy need hath caused thee to become a fox in disposition.\n  Thy maladies are the result of indigence:\n  This disease is the source of thy pain.\n  It is robbing thine high thoughts of their dignity\n  And putting out the light of thy noble imagination.              440\n  Quaff rosy wine from the jar of existence!\n  Snatch thy money from the purse of Time!\n  Like Omar, come down from thy camel![49]\n  Beware of incurring obligations, beware!\n  How long wilt thou sue for office                                445\n  And ride like children on a woman\u2019s back?\n  A nature that fixes its gaze on the sky\n  Becomes debased by receiving benefits.\n  By asking, poverty is made more abject;\n  By begging, the beggar is made poorer.                           450\n  Asking disintegrates the Self\n  And deprives of illumination the Sinai-bush of the Self.\n  Do not scatter thy handful of dust;\n  Like the moon, scrape food from thine own side!\n  Albeit thou art poor and wretched                                455\n  And overwhelmed by affliction,\n  Seek not thy daily bread from the bounty of another,\n  Seek not waves of water from the fountain of the sun,\n  Lest thou be put to shame before the Prophet\n  On the Day when every soul shall be stricken with fear.          460\n  The moon gets sustenance from the table of the sun\n  And bears the brand of his bounty on her heart.\n  Pray God for courage! Wrestle with Fortune!\n  Do not sully the honour of the pure religion!\n  He who swept the rubbish of idols out of the Ka\u2019ba               465\n  Said that God loves a man that earns his living.\n  Woe to him that accepts bounty from another\u2019s table\n  And lets his neck be bent with benefits!\n  He hath consumed himself with the lightning of the favours\n      bestowed on him,\n  He hath sold his honour for a paltry coin.                       470\n  Happy the man who thirsting in the sun\n  Does not crave of Khizr a cup of water![50]\n  His brow is not moist with the shame of beggary;\n  He is a man still, not a piece of clay.\n  That noble youth walks under heaven                              475\n  With his head erect like the pine.\n  Are his hands empty? The more is he master of himself.\n  Do his fortunes languish? The more alert is he.\n  The beggar\u2019s wallet is like a boat tossing in waves of fire;\n  Sweet is a little dew gathered by one\u2019s own hand.                480\n  Be a man of honour, and like the bubble\n  Keep thy cup inverted even in the midst of the sea![51]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[49] The Caliph Omar was a man of simple habits and self-reliant\ncharacter.\n\n[50] Khizr is supposed to have drunk of the Fountain of Life.\n\n[51] The bubble is compared to an inverted cup, which of course\nreceives nothing.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\n_Showing that when the Self is strengthened by Love it gains dominion\nover the outward and inward forces of the universe._\n\n\n  When the Self is made strong by Love\n  Its power rules the whole world.\n  The Heavenly Sage who adorned the sky with stars                 485\n  Plucked these buds from the bough of the Self.\n  Its hand becomes God\u2019s hand,\n  The moon is split by its fingers.\n  It is the arbitrator in all the quarrels of the world,\n  Its command is obeyed by Darius and Jamsh\u00edd.                     490\n  I will tell thee a story of B\u00fa Ali,[52]\n  Whose name is renowned in India,\n  Him who sang of the ancient rose-garden\n  And discoursed to us about the lovely rose:\n  The air of his fluttering skirt                                  495\n  Made a Paradise of this fire-born country.\n  His young disciple went one day to the bazaar--\n  The wine of B\u00fa Ali\u2019s discourse had turned his head.\n  The governor of the city was coming along on horseback,\n  His servant and staff-bearer rode beside him.                    500\n  The forerunner shouted, \u201cO senseless one,\n  Do not get in the way of the governor\u2019s escort!\u201d\n  But the dervish walked on with drooping head,\n  Sunk in the sea of his own thoughts.\n  The staff-bearer, drunken with pride,                            505\n  Broke his staff on the head of the dervish,\n  Who stepped painfully out of the governor\u2019s way,\n  Sad and sorry, with a heavy heart.\n  He came to B\u00fa Ali and complained\n  And released the tears from his eyes.                            510\n  Like lightning that falls on mountains,\n  The Sheikh poured forth a fiery torrent of speech.\n  He let loose from his soul a strange fire,\n  He gave an order to his secretary:\n  \u201cTake thy pen and write a letter                                 515\n  From a dervish to a sultan!\n  Say, \u2018Thy governor has broken my servant\u2019s head;\n  He has cast burning coals on his own life.\n  Arrest this wicked governor,\n  Or else I will bestow thy kingdom on another.\u201d                   520\n  The letter of the saint who had access to God\n  Caused the monarch to tremble in every limb.\n  His body was filled with aches,\n  He grew as pale as the evening sun.\n  He sought out a handcuff for the governor                        525\n  And entreated B\u00fa Ali to pardon this offence.\n  Khusrau, the sweet-voiced eloquent poet,[53]\n  Whose harmonies flow from the creative mind\n  And whose genius hath the soft brilliance of moonlight,\n  Was chosen to be the king\u2019s ambassador.                          530\n  When he entered B\u00fa Ali\u2019s presence and played his lute,\n  His song melted the fakir\u2019s soul like glass.\n  One strain of poesy bought the grace\n  Of a majesty that was firm as a mountain.\n  Do not wound the hearts of dervishes,                            535\n  Do not throw thyself into burning fire!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[52] Sheikh Sharafu\u2019dd\u00edn of P\u00e1n\u00edpat, who is better known as B\u00fa Ali\nQalandar, was a great saint. He died about A.D. 1325.\n\n[53] Am\u00edr Khusrau of Delhi, the most celebrated of the Persian poets of\nIndia.\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n_A tale of which the moral is that negation of the Self is a doctrine\ninvented by the subject races of mankind in order that by this means\nthey may sap and weaken the character of their rulers._\n\n\n  Hast thou heard that in the time of old\n  The sheep dwelling in a certain pasture\n  So increased and multiplied\n  That they feared no enemy?                                       540\n  At last, from the malice of Fate,\n  Their breasts were smitten by a shaft of calamity.\n  The tigers sprang forth from the jungle\n  And rushed upon the sheepfold.\n  Conquest and dominion are signs of strength,                     545\n  Victory is the manifestation of strength.\n  Those fierce tigers beat the drum of sovereignty,\n  They deprived the sheep of freedom.\n  Forasmuch as tigers must have their prey,\n  That meadow was crimsoned with the blood of the sheep.           550\n  One of the sheep which was clever and acute,\n  Old in years, cunning as a weather-beaten wolf,\n  Being grieved at the fate of his fellows\n  And sorely vexed by the violence of the tigers,\n  Made complaint of the course of Destiny                          555\n  And sought by craft to restore his fortunes.\n  The weak man, in order to preserve himself,\n  Seeks devices from skilled intelligence.\n  In slavery, for the sake of repelling harm,\n  The power of scheming becomes quickened,                         560\n  And when the madness of revenge gains hold,\n  The mind of the slave meditates rebellion.\n  \u201cOurs is a hard knot,\u201d said this sheep to himself,\n  \u201cThe ocean of our griefs hath no shore.\n  By force we sheep cannot escape from the tiger:                  565\n  Our legs are silver, his paws are steel.\n  \u2018Tis not possible, however much one exhorts and counsels,\n  To create in a sheep the disposition of a wolf.\n  But to make the furious tiger a sheep--that is possible;\n  To make him unmindful of his nature--that is possible.\u201d          570\n  He became as a prophet inspired,\n  And began to preach to the bloodthirsty tigers.\n  He cried out, \u201cO ye insolent liars,\n  Who wot not of a day of ill luck that shall continue for\n      ever![54]\n  I am possessed of spiritual power,                               575\n  I am an apostle sent by God for the tigers.\n  I come as a light for the eye that is dark,\n  I come to establish laws and give commandments.\n  Repent of your blameworthy deeds!\n  O plotters of evil, bethink yourselves of good!                  580\n  Whoso is violent and strong is miserable:\n  Life\u2019s solidity depends on self-denial.\n  The spirit of the righteous is fed by fodder:\n  The vegetarian is pleasing unto God.\n  The sharpness of your teeth brings disgrace upon you             585\n  And makes the eye of your perception blind.\n  Paradise is for the weak alone,\n  Strength is but a means to perdition.\n  It is wicked to seek greatness and glory,\n  Penury is sweeter than princedom.                                590\n  Lightning does not threaten the corn-seed:\n  If the seed become a stack, it is unwise.\n  If you are sensible, you will be a mote of sand, not a\n      Sahara,\n  So that you may enjoy the sunbeams.\n  O thou that delightest in the slaughter of sheep,                595\n  Slay thy self, and thou wilt have honour!\n  Life is rendered unstable\n  By violence, oppression, revenge, and exercise of power.\n  Though trodden underfoot, the grass grows up time after time\n  And washes the sleep of death from its eye again and again.      600\n  Forget thy self, if thou art wise!\n  If thou dost not forget thy self, thou art mad.\n  Close thine eyes, close thine ears, close thy lips,[55]\n  That thy thought may reach the lofty sky!\n  This pasturage of the world is naught, naught:                   605\n  O fool, do not torment thyself for a phantom!\u201d\n  The tiger-tribe was exhausted by hard struggles,\n  They had set their hearts on enjoyment of luxury.\n  This soporific advice pleased them,\n  In their stupidity they swallowed the charm of the sheep.        610\n  He that used to make sheep his prey\n  Now embraced a sheep\u2019s religion.\n  The tigers took kindly to a diet of fodder:\n  At length their tigerish nature was broken.\n  The fodder blunted their teeth                                   615\n  And put out the awful flashings of their eyes.\n  By degrees courage ebbed from their breasts,\n  The sheen departed from the mirror.\n  That frenzy of uttermost exertion remained not,\n  That craving after action dwelt in their hearts no more.         620\n  They lost the power of ruling and the resolution to be\n      independent,\n  They lost reputation, prestige, and fortune.\n  Their paws that were as iron became strengthless;\n  Their souls died and their bodies became tombs.\n  Bodily strength diminished while spiritual fear increased:       625\n  Spiritual fear robbed them of courage.\n  Lack of courage produced a hundred diseases--\n  Poverty, pusillanimity, lowmindedness.\n  The wakeful tiger was lulled to slumber by the sheep\u2019s charm:\n  He called his decline Moral Culture.                             630\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[54] These expressions are borrowed from the Koran.\n\n[55] Quoted from the _Masnav\u00ed_.\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\n_To the effect that Plato, whose thought has deeply influenced the\nmysticism and literature of Islam, followed the sheep\u2019s doctrine, and\nthat we must be on our guard against his theories._[56]\n\n\n  Plato, the prime ascetic and sage,\n  Was one of that ancient flock of sheep.\n  His Pegasus went astray in the darkness of philosophy\n  And galloped over the mountains of Being.\n  He was so fascinated by the Ideal                                635\n  That he made head, eye, and ear of no account.\n  \u201cTo die,\u201d said he, \u201cis the secret of Life:\n  The candle is glorified by being put out.\u201d\n  He dominates our thinking,\n  His cup sends us to sleep and takes the world away from us.      640\n  He is a sheep in man\u2019s clothing,\n  The soul of the S\u00faf\u00ed bows to his authority.\n  He soared with his intellect to the highest heaven,\n  He called the world of phenomena a myth.\n  \u2018Twas his work to dissolve the structure of Life                 645\n  And cut the bough of Life\u2019s fair tree asunder.\n  The thought of Plato regarded loss as profit,\n  His philosophy declared that being is not-being.\n  His nature drowsed and created a dream,\n  His mind\u2019s eye created a mirage.                                 650\n  Since he was without any taste for action,\n  His soul was enraptured by the non-existent.\n  He disbelieved in the material universe\n  And became the creator of invisible Ideas.\n  Sweet is the world of phenomena to the living spirit,            655\n  Dear is the world of Ideas to the dead spirit:\n  Its gazelles have no grace of movement,\n  Its partridges are denied the pleasure of walking daintily.\n  Its dewdrops are unable to quiver,\n  Its birds have no breath in their breasts,                       660\n  Its seed does not desire to grow,\n  Its moths do not know how to flutter.\n  Our philosopher had no remedy but flight:\n  He could not endure the noise of this world.\n  He set his heart on the glow of a quenched flame                 665\n  And depicted a world steeped in opium.\n  He spread his wings towards the sky\n  And never came down to his nest again.\n  His phantasy is sunk in the jar of heaven:\n  I know not whether it is the dregs or the bricks. [57]           670\n  The peoples were poisoned by his intoxication:\n  He slumbered and took no delight in deeds.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[56] The direct influence of Platonism on Moslem thought has been\ncomparatively slight. When the Moslems began to study Greek philosophy,\nthey turned to Aristotle. The genuine writings of Aristotle, however,\nwere not accessible to them. They studied translations of books passing\nunder his name, which were the work of Neoplatonists, so that what\nthey believed to be Aristotelian doctrine was in fact the philosophy\nof Plotinus, Proclus, and the later Neoplatonic school. Indirectly,\ntherefore, Plato has profoundly influenced the intellectual and\nspiritual development of Islam and may be called, if not the father of\nMohammedan mysticism, at any rate its presiding genius.\n\n[57] _I.e._ it is worthless in either case. The egg-shaped wine-jar is\nsupported by bricks in order to keep it in an upright position.\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\n_Concerning the true nature of poetry and the reform of Islamic\nliterature._\n\n\n  \u2018Tis the brand of desire makes the blood of man run warm,\n  By the lamp of desire this dust is enkindled.\n  By desire Life\u2019s cup is brimmed with wine,                       675\n  So that Life leaps to its feet and marches briskly on.\n  Life is occupied with conquest alone,\n  And the one charm for conquest is desire.\n  Life is the hunter and desire the snare,\n  Desire is Love\u2019s message to Beauty.                              680\n  Wherefore doth desire swell continuously\n  The bass and treble of Life\u2019s song?\n  Whatsoever is good and fair and beautiful\n  Is our guide in the wilderness of seeking.\n  Its image becomes impressed on thine heart,                      685\n  It creates desires in thine heart.\n  Beauty is the creator of desire\u2019s springtide,\n  Desire is nourished by the display of Beauty.\n  \u2018Tis in the poet\u2019s breast that Beauty unveils,\n  \u2018Tis from his Sinai that Beauty\u2019s beams arise.                   690\n  By his look the fair is made fairer,\n  Through his enchantments Nature is more beloved.\n  From his lips the nightingale hath learned her song,\n  And his rouge hath brightened the cheek of the rose.\n  \u2018Tis his passion burns in the heart of the moth,                 695\n  \u2018Tis he that lends glowing hues to love-tales.\n  Sea and land are hidden within his water and clay,[58]\n  A hundred new worlds are concealed in his heart.\n  Ere tulips blossomed in his brain\n  There was heard no note of joy or grief.                         700\n  His music breathes o\u2019er us a wonderful enchantment,\n  His pen draws a mountain with a single hair.\n  His thoughts dwell with the moon and the stars,\n  He creates beauty in that which is ugly and strange.\n  He is a Khizr, and amidst his darkness is the Fountain of\n      Life:[59]                                                    705\n  All things that exist are made more living by his tears.\n  Heavily we go, like raw novices,\n  Stumbling on the way to the goal.\n  His nightingale hath played a tune\n  And laid a plot to beguile us, 710\n  That he may lead us into Life\u2019s Paradise,\n  And that Life\u2019s bow may become a full circle.\n  Caravans march at the sound of his bell\n  And follow the voice of his pipe;\n  But when his zephyr blows in our gardens,                        715\n  We stay loitering amongst tulips and roses.\n  His witchery makes Life develop itself\n  And become self-questioning and impatient.\n  He invites the whole world to his table;\n  He lavishes his fire as though it were cheap as air.             720\n  Woe to a people that resigns itself to death,\n  And whose poet turns away from the joy of living!\n  His mirror shows beauty as ugliness,\n  His honey leaves a hundred stings in the heart.\n  His kiss robs the rose of freshness,                             725\n  He takes away from the nightingale\u2019s heart the joy of flying.\n  Thy sinews are relaxed by his opium,\n  Thou payest for his song with thy life.\n  He bereaves the cypress of delight in its beauty,\n  His cold breath makes a pheasant of the male falcon.             730\n  He is a fish, and from the breast upward a man,\n  Like the Sirens in the ocean.\n  With his song he enchants the pilot\n  And casts the ship to the bottom of the sea.\n  His melodies steal firmness from thine heart,                    735\n  His magic persuades thee that death is life.\n  He takes from thy soul the desire of existence,\n  He extracts from thy mine the blushing ruby.\n  He dresses gain in the garb of loss,\n  He makes everything praiseworthy blameful.                       740\n  He plunges thee in a sea of thought,\n  He makes thee a stranger to action.\n  He is sick, and by his words our sickness is increased:\n  The more his cup goes round, the more sick are they that\n      quaff it.\n  There are no lightning-rains in his April,                       745\n  His garden is a mirage of colour and perfume.\n  His beauty hath no dealings with Truth,\n  There are none but flawed pearls in his sea.\n  Slumber he deemed sweeter than waking:\n  Our fire was quenched by his breath.                             750\n  By the chant of his nightingale the heart was poisoned:\n  Under his heap of roses lurked a snake.\n  Beware of his decanter and cup!\n  Beware of his sparkling wine!\n  O thou whom his wine hath laid low                               755\n  And who look\u2019st to his glass for thy rising dawn,\n  O thou whose heart hath been chilled by his melodies,\n  Thou hast drunk deadly poison through the ear!\n  Thy way of life is a proof of thy degeneracy,\n  The strings of thine instrument are out of tune.                 760\n  \u2018Tis pampered ease hath made thee so wretched,\n  A disgrace to Islam throughout the world.\n  One can bind thee with the vein of a rose,\n  One can wound thee with a zephyr.\n  Love hath been put to shame by thy wailing,                      765\n  His fair picture hath been fouled by thy brush.\n  Thy ill-usage hath paled his cheek,\n  Thy coldness hath taken the glow from his fire.\n  He is heartsick from thy heartsicknesses,\n  And enfeebled by thy feeblenesses.                               770\n  His cup is full of childish tears,\n  His house is furnished with distressful sighs.[60]\n  He is a drunkard begging at tavern-doors,\n  Stealing glimpses of beauty from lattices,\n  Unhappy, melancholy, injured,                                    775\n  Kicked well-nigh to death by the warder;\n  Wasted like a reed by sorrows,\n  On his lips a store of complaints against Heaven.\n  Flattery and spite are the mettle of his mirror,\n  Helplessness his comrade of old;                                 780\n  A miserable base-born underling\n  Without worth or hope or object,\n  Whose lamentations have sucked the marrow from thy soul\n  And driven off gentle sleep from thy neighbours\u2019 eyes.\n  Alas for a love whose fire is extinct,                           785\n  A love that was born in the Holy Place and died in the\n      house of idols!\n  Oh, if thou hast the coin of poesy in thy purse,\n  Rub it on the touchstone of Life!\n  Clear-seeing thought shows the way to action,\n  As the lightning-flash precedes the thunder.                     790\n  It behoves thee to meditate well concerning literature,\n  It behoves thee to go back to the Arabs:\n  Thou must needs give thine heart to the Salm\u00e1 of Araby,[61]\n  That the morn of the Hij\u00e1z may blossom from the night of\n      Kurdistan.[62]\n  Thou hast gathered roses from the garden of Persia               795\n  And seen the springtide of India and Iran:\n  Now taste a little of the heat of the desert,\n  Drink the old wine of the date!\n  Lay thine head for once on its hot breast,\n  Yield thy body awhile to its scorching wind!                     800\n  For a long time thou hast turned about on a bed of silk:\n  Now accustom thyself to rough cotton!\n  For generations thou hast danced on tulips\n  And bathed thy cheek in dew, like the rose:\n  Now throw thyself on the burning sand                            805\n  And plunge into the fountain of Zemzem!\n  How long wilt thou fain lament like the nightingale?\n  How long make thine abode in gardens?\n  O thou whose auspicious snare would do honour to the Ph\u0153nix,\n  Build a nest on the high mountains,                              810\n  A nest embosomed in lightning and thunder,\n  Loftier than eagle\u2019s eyrie,\n  That thou mayst be fit for Life\u2019s battle,\n  That thy body and soul may burn in Life\u2019s fire!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[58] _I.e._ in his body.\n\n[59] Khizr, according to the legend, discovered the Fountain of Life in\nthe Land of Darkness.\n\n[60] In this passage the author assails the Persian and Urdu poetry so\nmuch in favour with his contemporaries.\n\n[61] Arabic odes usually begin with a prelude in which the poet makes\nmention of his beloved; and her name is often Salm\u00e1. Here \u201cthe Salm\u00e1 of\nAraby\u201d refers to the Koran and the ideals for which it stands.\n\n[62] It is related that an ignorant Kurd came to some students and\nbesought them to instruct him in the mysteries of S\u00fafism. They told him\nthat he must fasten a rope to the roof of his house, then tie the loose\nend to his feet and suspend himself, head downwards; and that he must\nremain in this posture as long as possible, reciting continually some\nwords of gibberish which they taught him. The poor man did not perceive\nthat he was being mocked. He followed their instructions and passed\nthe whole night repeating the words given him. God rewarded his faith\nand sincerity by granting him illumination, so that he became a saint\nand could discourse learnedly on the most abstruse matters of mystical\ntheology. Afterwards he used to say, \u201cIn the evening I was a Kurd, but\nthe next morning I was an Arab.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\n_Showing that the education of the Self has three stages: Obedience,\nSelf-control, and Divine Vicegerency._\n\n\n1. OBEDIENCE\n\n  Service and toil are traits of the camel,                        815\n  Patience and perseverance are ways of the camel.\n  Noiselessly he steps along the sandy track,\n  He is the ship of those who voyage in the desert.\n  Every thicket knows the print of his foot:\n  He eats seldom, sleeps little, and is inured to toil.            820\n  He carries rider, baggage, and litter;\n  He trots on and on to the journey\u2019s end,\n  Rejoicing in his speed,\n  More patient in travel than his rider.\n  Thou, too, do not refuse the burden of Duty:                     825\n  So wilt thou enjoy the best dwelling-place, which is with\n      God.\n  Endeavour to obey, O heedless one!\n  Liberty is the fruit of compulsion.\n  By obedience the man of no worth is made worthy;\n  By disobedience his fire is turned to ashes.                     830\n  Whoso would master the sun and stars,\n  Let him make himself a prisoner of Law!\n  The wind is enthralled by the fragrant rose;\n  The perfume is confined in the navel of the musk-deer.\n  The star moves towards its goal                                  835\n  With head bowed in surrender to a law.\n  The grass springs up in obedience to the law of growth:\n  When it abandons that, it is trodden underfoot.\n  To burn unceasingly is the law of the tulip,\n  And so the blood leaps in its veins.                             840\n  Drops of water become a sea by the law of union,\n  And grains of sand become a Sahara.\n  Since Law makes everything strong within,\n  Why dost thou neglect this source of strength?\n  O thou that art emancipated from the old Custom,[63]             845\n  Adorn thy feet once more with the same fine silver chain!\n  Do not complain of the hardness of the Law,\n  Do not transgress the statutes of Mohammed!\n\n\n2. SELF-CONTROL\n\n  Thy soul cares only for itself, like the camel:\n  It is self-conceited, self-governed, and self-willed.            850\n  Be a man, get its halter into thine hand,\n  That thou mayst become a pearl albeit thou art a potter\u2019s\n      vessel.\n  He that does not command himself\n  Becomes a receiver of commands from others.\n  When they moulded thee of clay,                                  855\n  Love and fear were mingled in thy making:\n  Fear of this world and of the world to come, fear of death,\n  Fear of all the pains of earth and heaven;\n  Love of riches and power, love of country,\n  Love of self and kindred and wife.                               860\n  The mixing of clay with water nourishes the body,[64]\n  But he that is drowned in sin dies an evil death.\n  So long as thou hold\u2019st the staff of \u201cThere is no God but\n      He,\u201d[65]\n  Thou wilt break every spell of fear.\n  One to whom God is as the soul in his body,                      865\n  His neck is not bowed before vanity.\n  Fear finds no way into his bosom,\n  His heart is afraid of none but Allah.\n  Whoso dwells in the Moslem Faith\n  Is free from the bonds of wife and child.                        870\n  He withdraws his gaze from all except God\n  And lays the knife to the throat of his son.[66]\n  Though single, he is like a host in onset:\n  Life is cheaper in his eyes than wind.\n  The profession of Faith is the shell, but prayer is the\n      pearl:                                                       875\n  The Moslem\u2019s heart deems prayer a lesser pilgrimage.[67]\n  In the Moslem\u2019s hand prayer is like a dagger\n  Killing sin and frowardness and wrong.\n  Fasting makes an assault upon hunger and thirst\n  And breaches the citadel of sensuality.                          880\n  The pilgrimage enlightens the minds of the Faithful:\n  It teaches separation from one\u2019s home and destroys\n      attachment to one\u2019s native land;\n  It is an act of devotion in which all feel themselves to be\n      one,\n  It binds together the leaves of the book of religion.\n  Almsgiving causes love of riches to pass away                    885\n  And makes equality familiar;\n  It fortifies the heart with righteousness,[68]\n  It increases wealth and diminishes fondness for wealth.\n  All this is a means of strengthening thee:\n  Thou art impregnable, if thy Islam be strong.                    890\n  Draw might from the litany \u201cO Almighty One!\u201d\n  That thou mayst ride the camel of thy body.[69]\n\n\n3. DIVINE VICEGERENCY[70]\n\n  If thou canst rule thy camel, thou wilt rule the world\n  And wear on thine head the crown of Solomon.\n  Thou wilt be the glory of the world whilst the world lasts,      895\n  And thou wilt reign in the kingdom incorruptible.\n  \u2018Tis sweet to be God\u2019s vicegerent in the world\n  And exercise sway over the elements.\n  God\u2019s vicegerent is as the soul of the universe,\n  His being is the shadow of the Greatest Name.                    900\n  He knows the mysteries of part and whole,\n  He executes the command of Allah in the world.\n  When he pitches his tent in the wide world,\n  He rolls up this ancient carpet.[71]\n  His genius abounds with life and desires to manifest itself:     905\n  He will bring another world into existence.\n  A hundred worlds like this world of parts and wholes\n  Spring up, like roses, from the seed of his imagination.\n  He makes every raw nature ripe,\n  He puts the idols out of the sanctuary.                          910\n  Heart-strings give forth music at his touch,\n  He wakes and sleeps for God alone.\n  He teaches age the melody of youth\n  And endows everything with the radiance of youth.\n  To the human race he brings both a glad message and a\n      warning,                                                     915\n  He comes both as a soldier and as a marshal and prince.\n  He is the final cause of \u201cGod taught Adam the names of all\n      things,\u201d[72]\n  He is the inmost sense of \u201cGlory to Him that transported His\n      servant by night.\u201d[73]\n  His white hand is strengthened by the staff,[74]\n  His knowledge is twinned with the power of a perfect man.        920\n  When that bold cavalier seizes the reins,\n  The steed of Time gallops faster.\n  His awful mien makes the Red Sea dry,\n  He leads Israel out of Egypt.\n  At his cry, \u201cArise,\u201d the dead spirits                            925\n  Rise in their bodily tomb, like pines in the field.\n  His person is an atonement for all the world,\n  By his grandeur the world is saved.[75]\n  His protecting shadow makes the mote familiar with the sun,\n  His rich substance makes precious all that exists.               930\n  He bestows life by miraculous works,\n  He founds a new system to work by.\n  Splendid visions rise from the print of his foot,\n  Many a Moses is entranced by his Sinai.\n  He gives a new explanation of Life,                              935\n  A new interpretation of this dream.\n  His hidden being is Life\u2019s mystery,\n  The unheard music of Life\u2019s harp.\n  Nature travails in blood for generations\n  To compose the harmony of his personality.                       940\n  When our handful of earth has reached the zenith,\n  That champion will come forth from this dust!\n  There sleeps amidst the ashes of To-day\n  The flame of a world-consuming morrow.\n  Our bud enfolds a garden of roses,                               945\n  Our eyes are bright with to-morrow\u2019s dawn.\n  Appear, O rider of Destiny!\n  Appear, O light of the dark realm of Change!\n  Illumine the scene of existence,\n  Dwell in the blackness of our eyes!                              950\n  Silence the noise of the nations,\n  Imparadise our ears with thy music!\n  Arise and tune the harp of brotherhood,\n  Give us back the cup of the wine of love!\n  Bring once more days of peace to the world,                      955\n  Give a message of peace to them that seek battle!\n  Mankind are the cornfield and thou the harvest,\n  Thou art the goal of Life\u2019s caravan.\n  The leaves are scattered by Autumn\u2019s fury:\n  Oh, do thou pass over our gardens as the Spring!                 960\n  Receive from our downcast brows\n  The homage of little children and of young men and old!\n  When thou art there, we will lift up our heads,\n  Content to suffer the burning fire of this world.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[63] The religious law of Islam.\n\n[64] _I.e._ water is an indispensable element in the life of the body.\n\n[65] The first article of the Mohammedan creed.\n\n[66] Like Abraham when he was about to sacrifice Isaac or (as Moslems\ngenerally believe) Ishmael.\n\n[67] The lesser pilgrimage (_\u2019umra_) is not obligatory like the greater\npilgrimage (_hajj_).\n\n[68] The original quotes part of a verse in the Koran (ch. 3, v. 86),\nwhere it is said, \u201cYe shall never attain unto righteousness until ye\ngive in alms of that which ye love.\u201d\n\n[69] _I.e._ overcome the lusts of the flesh.\n\n[70] Here Iqbal interprets in his own way the S\u00faf\u00ed doctrine of the\n_Ins\u00e1n al-k\u00e1mil_ or Perfect Man, which teaches that every man is\npotentially a microcosm, and that when he has become spiritually\nperfect, all the Divine attributes are displayed by him, so that as\nsaint or prophet he is the God-man, the representative and vicegerent\nof God on earth.\n\n[71] _I.e._ his appearance marks the end of an epoch.\n\n[72] Koran, ch. 2, v. 29. The Ideal Man is the final cause of creation.\n\n[73] Koran, ch. 17, v. 1, referring to the Ascension of the Prophet.\n\n[74] For the white hand (of Moses) cf. Koran, ch. 7, v. 105, ch. 26, v.\n32, and Exodus, ch. 4, v. 6.\n\n[75] These four lines may allude to Jesus, regarded as a type of the\nPerfect Man.\n\n\n\n\nX\n\n_Setting forth the inner meanings of the names of Ali._\n\n\n  Ali is the first Moslem and the King of men,                     965\n  In Love\u2019s eyes Ali is the treasure of the Faith.\n  Devotion to his family inspires me with life\n  So that I am as a shining pearl.\n  Like the narcissus, I am enraptured with gazing;\n  Like perfume, I am straying through his pleasure-garden.         970\n  If holy water gushes from my earth, he is the source;\n  If wine pours from my grapes, he is the cause.\n  I am dust, but his sun hath made me as a mirror:\n  Song can be seen in my breast.\n  From Ali\u2019s face the Prophet drew a fair omen,                    975\n  By his majesty the true religion is glorified.\n  His commandments are the strength of Islam:\n  All things pay allegiance to his House.\n  The Apostle of God gave him the name B\u00fa Tur\u00e1b;\n  God in the Koran called him \u201cthe Hand of Allah.\u201d                 980\n  Every one that is acquainted with Life\u2019s mysteries\n  Knows what is the inner meaning of the names of Ali.\n  The dark clay, whose name is the body--\n  Our reason is ever bemoaning its iniquity.\n  On account of it our sky-reaching thought plods o\u2019er the\n      earth;                                                       985\n  It makes our eyes blind and our ears deaf.\n  It hath in its hand a two-edged sword of lust:\n  Travellers\u2019 hearts are broken by this brigand.\n  Ali, the Lion of God, subdued the body\u2019s clay\n  And transmuted this dark earth to gold.                          990\n  Murtaz\u00e1, by whose sword the splendour of Truth was revealed,\n  Is named B\u00fa Tur\u00e1b from his conquest of the body.[76]\n  Man wins territory by prowess in battle,\n  But his brightest jewel is mastery of himself.\n  Whosoever in the world becomes a B\u00fa Tur\u00e1b                        995\n  Turns back the sun from the west;[77]\n  Whosoever saddles tightly the steed of the body\n  Sits like the bezel on the seal of sovereignty:\n  Here the might of Khaibar is under his feet,[78]\n  And hereafter his hand will distribute the water of\n      Kauthar.[79]                                                1000\n  Through self-knowledge he acts as God\u2019s Hand,\n  And in virtue of being God\u2019s Hand he reigns over all.\n  His person is the gate of the city of the sciences:\n  Arabia, China, and Greece are subject to him.\n  If thou wouldst drink clear wine from thine own grapes,         1005\n  Thou must needs wield authority over thine own earth.\n  To become earth is the creed of a moth;\n  Be a conqueror of earth; that alone is worthy of a man.\n  Thou art soft as a rose. Become hard as a stone,\n  That thou mayst be the foundation of the wall of the garden!    1010\n  Build thy clay into a Man,\n  Build thy Man into a World!\n  If thou art unfit to be either a wall or a door,\n  Some one else will make bricks of thine earth.\n  O thou who complainest of the cruelty of Heaven,                1015\n  Thou whose glass cries out against the injustice of the stone,\n  How long this wailing and crying and lamentation?\n  How long this perpetual beating of thy breast?\n  The pith of Life is contained in action,\n  To delight in creation is the law of Life.                      1020\n  Arise and create a new world!\n  Wrap thyself in flames, be an Abraham![80]\n  To comply with this ill-starred world\n  Is to fling away thy buckler on the field of battle.\n  The man of strong character who is master of himself            1025\n  Will find Fortune complaisant.\n  If the world does not comply with his humour,\n  He will try the hazard of war with Heaven;\n  He will dig up the foundations of the universe\n  And cast its atoms into a new mould.                            1030\n  He will subvert the course of Time\n  And wreck the azure firmament.\n  By his own strength he will produce\n  A new world which will do his pleasure.\n  If one cannot live in the world as beseems a man,               1035\n  It is true life to give up one\u2019s soul.\n  He that hath sound intelligence\n  Will prove his strength by great enterprises.\n  \u2018Tis sweet to use love in hard tasks\n  And, like Abraham, to gather roses from flames.[81]             1040\n  The potentialities of men of action\n  Are displayed in willing acceptance of what is difficult.\n  Mean spirits have no weapon but spite,\n  This is their one rule of life.\n  But Life is power made manifest,                                1045\n  And its mainspring is the desire for victory.\n  Mercy out of season is a coldness of Life\u2019s blood,\n  A break in the rhythm of Life\u2019s music.\n  Whoever is sunk in the depths of ignominy\n  Calls his weakness contentment.                                 1050\n  Weakness is the plunderer of Life,\n  Its womb is teeming with fears and lies.\n  Its soul is empty of virtues,\n  Its milk is a fattening for vices.\n  O man of sound judgement, beware!                               1055\n  This spoiler is lurking in ambush.\n  Be not his dupe, if thou art wise:\n  Chameleon-like, he changes colour every moment.\n  Even by keen observers his form is not discerned:\n  Veils are thrown over his face.                                 1060\n  Now he is muffled in pity and gentleness,\n  Now he wears the cloak of humility.\n  Sometimes he is disguised as a victim of oppression,\n  Sometimes as one whose sins are to be excused.\n  He appears in the shape of self-indulgence                      1065\n  And robs the strong man\u2019s heart of courage.\n  Strength is the twin of Truth;\n  If thou knowest thyself, strength is the Truth-revealing\n      glass.\n  Life is the seed, and power the crop:\n  Power explains the mystery of truth and falsehood.              1070\n  The false claimant, if he be possessed of power,\n  Needs no argument for his claim.\n  Falsehood derives from power the authority of truth,\n  And by falsifying truth deems itself true.\n  Its creative word transforms poison into nectar;                1075\n  It says to Good, \u201cThou art bad,\u201d and Good becomes Evil.\n  O thou that art heedless of the trust committed to thee,\n  Esteem thyself superior to both worlds![82]\n  Gain knowledge of Life\u2019s mysteries!\n  Be a tyrant! Ignore all except God!                             1080\n  O man of understanding, open thine eyes, ears, and lips![83]\n  If then thou seest not the Way of Truth, laugh at me!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[76] Murtaz\u00e1, \u201che whom with God is pleased,\u201d(--_See Transcriber\u2019s\nNote_) is a name of Ali. B\u00fa Tur\u00e1b means literally \u201cfather of earth.\u201d\n\n[77] A miracle of the Prophet.\n\n[78] The fortress of Khaibar, a village in the Hij\u00e1z, was captured by\nthe Moslems in A.D. 628. Ali performed great feats of valour on this\noccasion.\n\n[79] A river of Paradise.\n\n[80] See note 33 on l. 213.\n\n[81] The burning pyre on which Abraham was thrown lost its heat and was\ntransformed into a rose-garden.\n\n[82] The \u201ctrust\u201d which God offered to Man and which Man accepted, after\nit had been refused by Heaven and Earth (Koran, ch. 33, v. 72), is the\ndivine vicegerency, _i.e._ the duty of displaying the divine attributes.\n\n[83] A parody of the verse in the _Masnav\u00ed_ quoted above. See l. 603.\n\n\n\n\nXI\n\n_Story of a young man of Merv who came to the saint Ali Hujw\u00edr\u00ed--God\nhave mercy on him!--and complained that he was oppressed by his\nenemies._\n\n\n  The saint of Hujw\u00edr was venerated by the peoples,\n  And P\u00edr-i Sanjar visited his tomb as a pilgrim.[84]\n  With ease he broke down the mountain-barriers                   1085\n  And sowed the seed of Islam in India.\n  The age of Omar was restored by his godliness,\n  The fame of the Truth was exalted by his words.\n  He was a guardian of the honour of the Koran,\n  The house of Falsehood fell in ruins at his gaze.               1090\n  The dust of the Panj\u00e1b was brought to life by his breath,\n  Our dawn was made splendid by his sun.\n  He was a lover, and withal a courier of Love:\n  The secrets of Love shone forth from his brow.\n  I will tell a story of his perfection                           1095\n  And enclose a whole rose-bed in a single bud.\n  A young man, cypress-tall,\n  Came from the town of Merv to Lahore.\n  He went to see the venerable saint,\n  That the sun might dispel his darkness.                         1100\n  \u201cI am hemmed in,\u201d he said, \u201cby foes;\n  I am as a glass in the midst of stones.\n  Do thou teach me, O sire of heavenly rank,\n  How to lead my life amongst enemies!\u201d\n  The wise Director, in whose nature                              1105\n  Love had allied mercy with wrath,\n  Answered: \u201cThou art unread in Life\u2019s lore,\n  Careless of its end and its beginning.\n  Be without fear of others!\n  Thou art a sleeping force: awake!                               1110\n  When the stone was anxious on account of the glass,\n  It became glass and got into the way of breaking.\n  If the traveller thinks himself weak,\n  He delivers his soul unto the brigand.\n  How long wilt thou regard thyself as water and clay?            1115\n  Create from thy clay a flaming Sinai!\n  Why be angry with mighty men?\n  Why complain of enemies?\n  I will declare the truth: thine enemy is thy friend;\n  His existence crowns thee with glory.                           1120\n  Whosoever knows the states of the Self\n  Considers a powerful enemy to be a blessing from God.\n  To the seed of Man the enemy is as a rain-cloud:\n  He awakens its potentialities.\n  If thy spirit be strong, the stones in thy way are as water:    1125\n  What recks the torrent of the ups and downs of the road?\n  The sword of resolution is whetted by the stones in the way\n  And put to proof by traversing stage after stage.\n  What is the use of eating and sleeping like a beast?\n  What is the use of being, unless thou have strength in\n      thyself?                                                    1130\n  When thou mak\u2019st thyself strong with Self,\n  Thou wilt destroy the world at thy pleasure.\n  If thou wouldst pass away, become free of Self;\n  If thou wouldst live, become full of Self![85]\n  What is death? To become oblivious to Self.                     1135\n  Why imagine that it is the parting of soul and body?\n  Abide in Self, like Joseph!\n  Advance from captivity to empire!\n  Think of Self and be a man of action!\n  Be a man of God, bear mysteries within!\u201d                        1140\n  I will explain the matter by means of stories,\n  I will open the bud by the power of my breath.\n  \u201c\u2018Tis better that a lovers\u2019 secret\n  Should be told by the lips of others.\u201d[86]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[84] Hujw\u00edr\u00ed, author of the oldest Persian treatise on S\u00fafism, was a\nnative of Ghazna in Afghanistan. He died at Lahore about A.D. 1072.\nP\u00edr-i Sanjar is the renowned saint, Mu`\u00ednudd\u00edn, head of the Chisht\u00ed\norder of dervishes, who died in A.D. 1235 at Ajm\u00edr.\n\n[85] These lines correct the S\u00faf\u00ed doctrine that by means of passing\naway from individuality the mystic attains to everlasting life in God.\n\n[86] _I.e._ allegorically. This verse occurs in the _Masnav\u00ed_.\n\n\n\n\nXII\n\n_Story of the bird that was faint with thirst._\n\n\n  A bird was faint with thirst,                                   1145\n  The breath in his body was heaving like waves of smoke.\n  He saw a diamond in the garden:\n  Thirst created a vision of water.\n  Deceived by the sunbright stone\n  The foolish bird fancied that it was water.                     1150\n  He got no moisture from the gem:\n  He pecked it with his beak, but it did not wet his palate.\n  \u201cO thrall of vain desire,\u201d said the diamond,\n  \u201cThou hast sharpened thy greedy beak on me;\n  But I am not a dewdrop, I give no drink,                        1155\n  I do not live for the sake of others.\n  Wouldst thou hurt me? Thou art mad!\n  A life that reveals the Self is strange to thee.\n  My water will shiver the beaks of birds\n  And break the jewel of man\u2019s life.\u201d[87]                         1160\n  The bird won not his heart\u2019s wish from the diamond\n  And turned away from the sparkling stone.\n  Disappointment swelled in his breast,\n  The song in his throat became a wail.\n  Upon a rose-twig a drop of dew                                  1165\n  Gleamed like the tear in a nightingale\u2019s eye:\n  All its glitter was owing to the sun,\n  It was trembling in fear of the sun--\n  A restless sky-born star\n  That had stopped for a moment, from desire to be seen;          1170\n  Oft deceived by bud and flower,\n  It had gained nothing from Life.\n  There it hung, ready to drop,\n  Like a tear on the eyelashes of a lover who hath lost his heart.\n  The sorely distressed bird hopped under the rose-bush,          1175\n  The dewdrop trickled into his mouth.\n  O thou that wouldst deliver thy soul from enemies,\n  I ask thee--\u201cArt thou a drop of water or a gem?\u201d\n  When the bird melted in the fire of thirst,\n  It appropriated the life of another.                            1180\n  The drop was not solid and gem-like;\n  The diamond had a being, the drop had none.\n  Never for an instant neglect Self-preservation:\n  Be a diamond, not a dewdrop!\n  Be massive in nature, like mountains,                           1185\n  And bear on thy crest a hundred clouds laden with floods of rain!\n  Save thyself by affirmation of Self,\n  Compress thy quicksilver into silver ore!\n  Produce a melody from the string of Self,\n  Make manifest the secrets of Self!                              1190\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[87] _I.e._ if he swallow a diamond, he will die.\n\n\n\n\nXIII\n\n_Story of the diamond and the coal._\n\n\n  Now I will open one more gate of Truth,\n  I will tell thee another tale.\n  The coal in the mine said to the diamond,\n  \u201cO thou entrusted with splendours everlasting,\n  We are comrades, and our being is one;                          1195\n  The source of our existence is the same,\n  Yet while I die here in the anguish of worthlessness,\n  Thou art set on the crowns of emperors.\n  My stuff is so vile that I am valued less than earth,\n  Whereas the mirror\u2019s heart is rent by thy beauty.               1200\n  My darkness illumines the chafing-dish,\n  Then my substance is incinerated at last.\n  Every one puts the sole of his foot on my head\n  And covers my stock of existence with ashes.\n  My fate must needs be deplored;                                 1205\n  Dost thou know what is the gist of my being?\n  Thou art a condensed wavelet of smoke,\n  Endowed with the properties of a single spark;\n  Both in feature and nature thou art star-like,\n  Splendours rise from every side of thee.                        1210\n  Now thou becom\u2019st the light of a monarch\u2019s eye,\n  Now thou adornest the haft of a dagger.\u201d\n  \u201cO sagacious friend!\u201d said the diamond,\n  \u201cDark earth, when hardened, becomes in dignity as a bezel.\n  Having been at strife with its environment,                     1215\n  It is ripened by the struggle and grows hard like a stone.\n  \u2018Tis this ripeness that has endowed my form with light\n  And filled my bosom with radiance.\n  Because thy being is immature, thou hast become abased;\n  Because thy body is soft, thou art burnt.                       1220\n  Be void of fear, grief, and anxiety;\n  Be hard as a stone, be a diamond!\n  Whosoever strives hard and grips tight,\n  The two worlds are illumined by him.\n  A little earth is the origin of the Black Stone                 1225\n  Which puts forth its head in the Ka`ba:\n  Its rank is higher than Sinai,\n  It is kissed by the swarthy and the fair.\n  In solidity consists the glory of Life;\n  Weakness is worthlessness and immaturity.\u201d                      1230\n\n\n\n\nXIV\n\n_Story of the Sheikh and the Brahmin, followed by a conversation\nbetween Ganges and Himalaya to the effect that the continuation of\nsocial life depends on firm attachment to the characteristic traditions\nof the community._\n\n\n  At Benares lived a venerable Brahmin,\n  Whose head was deep in the ocean of Being and Not-being.\n  He had a large knowledge of philosophy\n  But was well-disposed to the seekers after God.\n  His mind was eager to explore new problems,                     1235\n  His intellect moved on a level with the Pleiades;\n  His nest was as high as that of the Ank\u00e1;[88]\n  Sun and moon were cast, like rue, on the flame of his\n      thought.[89]\n  For a long time he laboured and sweated,\n  But philosophy brought no wine to his cup.                      1240\n  Although he set many a snare in the gardens of learning,\n  His snares never caught a glimpse of the Ideal bird;\n  And notwithstanding that the nails of his thought were\n      dabbled with blood,\n  The knot of Being and Not-being remained untied.\n  The sighs on his lips bore witness to his despair,              1245\n  His countenance told tales of his distraction.\n  One day he visited an excellent Sheikh,\n  A man who had in his breast a heart of gold.\n  The Sheikh laid the seal of silence on his lips\n  While he lent his ear to the Sage\u2019s discourse.                  1250\n  Then he said: \u201cO wanderer in the lofty sky,\n  Pledge thyself to be true, for a little, to the earth!\n  Thou hast lost thy way in wildernesses of speculation,\n  Thy fearless thought hath passed beyond Heaven.\n  Be reconciled with earth, O sky-traveller!                      1255\n  Do not wander in quest of the essence of the stars!\n  I do not bid thee abandon thine idols.\n  Art thou an unbeliever? Then be worthy of the badge of\n      unbelief![90]\n  O inheritor of ancient culture,\n  Turn not thy back on the path thy fathers trod!                 1260\n  If a people\u2019s life is derived from unity,\n  Unbelief too is a source of unity.\n  Thou that art not even a perfect infidel\n  Art unfit to worship at the shrine of the spirit.\n  We both are far astray from the road of devotion:               1265\n  Thou art far from \u00c1zar, and I from Abraham.[91]\n  Our Majn\u00fan hath not fallen into melancholy for his Lail\u00e1\u2019s\n      sake:\n  He hath not become perfect in the madness of love.\n  When the lamp of Self expires,\n  What is the use of heaven-surveying imagination?\u201d               1270\n\n  Once on a time, laying hold of the skirt of the mountain,\n  Ganges said to Himalaya:\n  \u201cO thou mantled in snow since the morn of creation,\n  Thou whose form is girdled with streams,\n  God made thee a partner in the secrets of heaven,               1275\n  But deprived thy foot of graceful gait.\n  He took away from thee the power to walk:\n  What avails this sublimity and stateliness?\n  Life springs from perpetual movement:\n  Motion constitutes the wave\u2019s whole existence.\u201d                 1280\n  When the mountain heard this taunt from the river,\n  He puffed angrily like a sea of fire,\n  And answered: \u201cThy wide waters are my looking-glass;\n  Within my bosom are a hundred rivers like thee.\n  This graceful gait of thine is an instrument of death:          1285\n  Whoso goeth from Self is meet to die.\n  Thou hast no knowledge of thine own case,\n  Thou exultest in thy misfortune: thou art a fool!\n  O born of the womb of the revolving sphere,\n  A fallen-in bank is better than thou!                           1290\n  Thou hast made thine existence an offering to the ocean,\n  Thou hast thrown the rich purse of thy life to the highwayman.\n  Be self-contained like the rose in the garden,\n  Do not go to the florist in order to smell sweet!\n  To live is to grow in thyself                                   1295\n  And gather roses from thine own flower-bed.\n  Ages have gone by and my foot is fast in earth:\n  Dost thou fancy that I am far from my goal?\n  My being grew and reached the sky,\n  The Pleiades sank to rest under my skirts;                      1300\n  Thy being vanishes in the ocean,\n  But on my crest the stars bow their heads.\n  Mine eye sees the mysteries of heaven,\n  Mine ear is familiar with angels\u2019 wings.\n  Since I glowed with the heat of unceasing toil,                 1305\n  I amassed rubies, diamonds, and other gems.\n  I am stone within, and in the stone is fire:\n  Water cannot pass over my fire!\u201d\n  Art thou a drop of water? Do not break at thine own feet,\n  But endeavour to surge and wrestle with the sea.                1310\n  Desire the water of a jewel, become a jewel!\n  Be an ear-drop, adorn a beauty!\n  Oh, expand thyself! Move swiftly!\n  Be a cloud that shoots lightning and sheds a flood of rain!\n  Let the ocean sue for thy storms as a beggar,                   1315\n  Let it complain of the straitness of thy skirts!\n  Let it deem itself less than a wave\n  And glide along at thy feet!\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[88] A mysterious bird, of which nothing is known except its name.\n\n[89] Rue-seed is burned for the purpose of fumigation.\n\n[90] \u201cThe badge of unbelief\u201d: here the original has _zunn\u00e1r_ ([Greek:\n\u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u03b1\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd: z\u00f4narion]), _i.e._ the sacred thread worn by Zoroastrians and\nother non-Moslems.\n\n[91] \u00c1zar, the father of Abraham, was an idolater.\n\n\n\n\nXV\n\n_Showing that the purpose of the Moslem\u2019s life is to exalt the Word of\nAllah, and that the Jih\u00e1d (war against unbelievers), if it be prompted\nby land-hunger, is unlawful in the religion of Islam._\n\n\n  Imbue thine heart with the tincture of Allah,\n  Give honour and glory to Love!                                  1320\n  The Moslem\u2019s nature prevails by means of love:\n  The Moslem, if he be not loving, is an infidel.\n  Upon God depends his seeing and not-seeing,\n  His eating, drinking, and sleeping.\n  In his will that which God wills becomes lost--                 1325\n  \u201cHow shall a man believe this saying?\u201d[92]\n  He encamps in the field of \u201cThere is no god but Allah\u201d;\n  In the world he is a witness against mankind.\n  His high estate is attested by the Prophet that was sent to\n      men and Jinn--\n  By the most truthful of witnesses.                              1330\n  Leave words and seek that spiritual state,\n  Shed the light of God o\u2019er the darkness of works!\n  Albeit clad in kingly robe, live as a dervish,\n  Live wakeful and meditating on God!\n  Whatever thou doest, let it be thine aim therein to draw nigh\n      to God,                                                     1335\n  That His glory may be made manifest by thee.\n  Peace becomes an evil, if its object be aught else;\n  War is good if its object is God.\n  If God be not exalted by our swords,\n  War dishonours the people.                                      1340\n  The holy Sheikh Miy\u00e1n M\u00edr Wal\u00ed,[93]\n  By the light of whose soul every hidden thing was revealed--\n  His feet were firmly planted on the path of Mohammed,\n  He was a flute for the impassioned music of love.\n  His tomb keeps our city safe from harm                          1345\n  And causes the beams of true religion to shine on us.\n  Heaven stooped its brow to his threshold,\n  The Emperor of India was one of his disciples.[94]\n  Now, this monarch had sown the seed of ambition in his heart\n  And was resolved on conquest.                                   1350\n  The flames of vain desire were alight in him,\n  He was teaching his sword to ask, \u201cIs there any more?\u201d[95]\n  In the Deccan was a great noise of war,\n  His army stood on the battlefield.\n  He went to the Sheikh of heaven-high dignity                    1355\n  That he might receive his blessing:\n  The Moslem turns from this world to God\n  And strengthens policy with prayer.\n  The Sheikh made no answer to the Emperor\u2019s speech,\n  The assembly of dervishes was all ears,                         1360\n  Until a disciple, in his hand a silver coin,\n  Opened his lips and broke the silence,\n  Saying, \u201cAccept this poor offering from me,\n  O guide of them that have lost the way to God!\n  My limbs were bathed in sweat of labour                         1365\n  Before I put away a dirhem in my skirt.\u201d\n  The Sheikh said: \u201cThis money ought to be given to our Sultan,\n  Who is a beggar wearing the raiment of a king.\n  Though he holds sway over sun, moon, and stars,\n  Our Emperor is the most penniless of mankind.                   1370\n  His eye is fixed on the table of strangers,\n  The fire of his hunger hath consumed a whole world.\n  His sword is followed by famine and plague,\n  His culture lays a wide land waste.\n  The folk are crying out because of his indigence,               1375\n  His empty-headedness, and his oppression of the weak.\n  His power is an enemy to all:\n  Humankind are the caravan and he the brigand.\n  In his self-delusion and ignorance\n  He calls pillage by the name of empire.                         1380\n  Both the royal troops and those of the enemy\n  Are cloven in twain by the sword of his hunger.\n  The beggar\u2019s hunger consumes his own soul,\n  But the sultan\u2019s hunger destroys state and religion.\n  Whoso shall draw the sword for anything except Allah,           1385\n  His sword is sheathed in his own breast.\u201d\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[92] See Introduction, note 7 in Section 1. THE PHILOSOPHICAL BASIS OF\nTHE _ASR\u00c1R-I KHUD\u00cd_.\n\n[93] A celebrated Moslem saint, who died at Lahore in A.D. 1635.\n\n[94] Aurangz\u00edb.\n\n[95] Koran, ch. 50, v. 29.\n\n\n\n\nXVI\n\n_Precepts written for the Moslems of India by M\u00edr Naj\u00e1t Nakshband, who\nis generally known as B\u00e1b\u00e1 Sahr\u00e1\u2019\u00ed._[96]\n\n\n  O thou that hast grown from earth, like a rose,\n  Thou too art born of the womb of Self.\n  Do not abandon Self! Persist therein!\n  Be a drop of water and drink up the ocean!                      1390\n  Glowing with the light of Self as thou art,\n  Make Self strong, and thou wilt endure.\n  Thou gett\u2019st profit from this trade,\n  Thou gain\u2019st riches by preserving this commodity.\n  Thou hast being, and art thou afraid of not-being?              1395\n  O foolish one, thy understanding is at fault.\n  Since I am acquainted with the harmony of Life,\n  tell thee what is the secret of Life--\n  To sink into thyself like the pearl,\n  Then to emerge from thine inward solitude;                      1400\n  To collect sparks beneath the ashes,\n  And become a flame and dazzle men\u2019s eyes.\n  Go, burn the house of forty years\u2019 tribulation,\n  Move round thyself! Be a circling flame!\n  What is Life but to be freed from moving round others           1405\n  And to regard thyself as the Holy Temple?\n  Beat thy wings and escape from the attraction of Earth;\n  Like birds, be safe from falling.\n  Unless thou art a bird, thou wilt do wisely\n  Not to build thy nest on the top of a cave.                     1410\n  O thou that seekest to acquire knowledge,\n  I say o\u2019er to thee the message of the Sage of R\u00fam:[97]\n  \u201cKnowledge, if it lie on thy skin, is a snake;\n  Knowledge, if thou take it to heart, is a friend.\u201d\n  Hast thou heard how the Master of R\u00fam                           1415\n  Gave lectures on philosophy at Aleppo?--\n  Fast in the bonds of intellectual proofs,\n  Drifting o\u2019er the dark and stormy sea of understanding;\n  A Moses unillumined by Love\u2019s Sinai,\n  Ignorant of Love and of Love\u2019s passion.                         1420\n  He discoursed on Scepticism and Neoplatonism,\n  And strung many a brilliant pearl of metaphysic.\n  He unravelled the problems of the Peripatetics,\n  The light of his thought made clear whatever was obscure.\n  Heaps of books lay around and in front of him,                  1425\n  And on his lips was the key to all their mysteries.\n  Shams-i Tabr\u00edz, directed by Kam\u00e1l,[98]\n  Sought his way to the college of Jal\u00e1lu\u2019dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed\n  And cried out, \u201cWhat is all this noise and babble?\n  What are all these syllogisms and judgements and\n      demonstrations?\u201d                                            1430\n  \u201cPeace, O fool!\u201d exclaimed the Maulavi,\n  \u201cDo not laugh at the doctrines of the sages.\n  Get thee out of my college!\n  This is argument and discussion: what hast thou to do with it?\n  My discourse is beyond thy understanding,                       1435\n  It will not brighten the glass of thy perception.\u201d\n  These words increased the anger of Shams-i Tabr\u00edz\n  And caused a fire to burst forth from his soul.\n  The lightning of his look fell on the earth,\n  And the glow of his breath made the dust spring into flames.    1440\n  The spiritual fire burned the intellectual stack\n  And clean consumed the book of philosophy.\n  The Maulavi, being a stranger to Love\u2019s miracles\n  And unversed in Love\u2019s harmonies,\n  Cried, \u201cHow didst thou kindle this fire,                        1445\n  Which hath burned the books of the philosophers?\u201d\n  The Sheikh answered, \u201cO unbelieving Moslem,\n  This is vision and ecstasy: what hast thou to do with it?\n  My state is beyond thy thought,\n  My flame is the Alchemist\u2019s elixir.\u201d                            1450\n  Thou hast drawn thy substance from the snow of philosophy,\n  The cloud of thy thought sheds nothing but hailstones.\n  Kindle a fire in thy rubble,\n  Foster a flame in thy earth!\n  The Moslem\u2019s knowledge is perfected by spiritual fervour,       1455\n  The meaning of Islam is _Renounce what shall pass away_.\n  When Abraham escaped from the bondage of \u201cthat which\n      sets,\u201d[99]\n  He sat unhurt in the midst of flames.[100]\n  Thou hast cast knowledge of God behind thee\n  And squandered thy religion for the sake of a loaf.             1460\n  Thou art hot in pursuit of antimony,\n  Thou art unaware of the blackness of thine own eye.\n  Seek the Fountain of Life from the sword\u2019s edge,\n  And the River of Paradise from the dragon\u2019s mouth,\n  Demand the Black Stone from the door of the house of idols,     1465\n  And the musk-deer\u2019s bladder from a mad dog,\n  But do not seek the glow of Love from the knowledge of to-day,\n  Do not seek the nature of Truth from this infidel\u2019s cup!\n  Long have I been running to and fro,\n  Learning the secrets of the New Knowledge:                      1470\n  Its gardeners have put me to the trial\n  And have made me intimate with their roses.\n  Roses! Tulips, rather, that warn one not to smell them--\n  Like paper roses, a mirage of perfume.\n  Since this garden ceased to enthral me,                         1475\n  I have nested on the Paradisal tree.\n  Modern knowledge is the greatest blind--\n  Idol-worshipping, idol-selling, idol-making!\n  Shackled in the prison of phenomena,\n  It has not overleaped the limits of the sensible.               1480\n  It has fallen down in crossing the bridge of Life,\n  It has laid the knife to its own throat.\n  Having fire, it is yet cold as the tulip;\n  Having flame, it is yet cold as hail.\n  Its nature remains untouched by the glow of Love,               1485\n  It is ever engaged in a joyless search.\n  Love is the Plato that heals the sicknesses of the mind:[101]\n  The mind\u2019s melancholy is cured by its lancet.\n  The whole world bows in adoration to Love,\n  Love is the Mahm\u00fad that conquers the Somnath of\n      intellect.[102]                                             1490\n  Modern science lacks this old wine in its cup,\n  Its nights are not loud with passionate prayer.\n  Thou hast misprized thine own cypress\n  And deemed tall the cypress of others.\n  Like the reed, thou hast emptied thyself of Self                1495\n  And given thine heart to the music of others.\n  O thou that begg\u2019st morsels from another\u2019s table,\n  Wilt thou seek thine own kind in another\u2019s shop?\n  The Moslem\u2019s feast is burned up by the lamps of strangers,\n  His mosque is consumed by the Christian monastery.              1500\n  When the deer fled from the sacred territory of Mecca,\n  The hunter\u2019s arrow pierced her side.[103]\n  The leaves of the rose are scattered, like its scent:\n  O thou that hast fled from thy Self, come back to it!\n  O trustee of the wisdom of the Koran,                           1505\n  Find thy lost unity again!\n  We, who keep the gate of the citadel of Islam,\n  Have become unbelievers by neglecting the watchword of Islam.\n  The ancient Saki\u2019s bowl is shattered,\n  The wine-party of the Hij\u00e1z is broken up.                       1510\n  The Ka`ba is filled with our idols,\n  Infidelity mocks at our Islam.\n  Our Sheikh hath gambled Islam away for love of idols\n  And made a rosary of the _zunn\u00e1r_.[104]\n  Our spiritual directors owe their rank to their white hairs     1515\n  And are the laughing-stock of children in the street;\n  Their hearts bear no impress of the Faith\n  But house the idols of sensuality.\n  Every long-haired fellow wears the garb of a dervish--\n  Alas for these traffickers in religion!                         1520\n  Day and night they are travelling about with disciples,\n  And ignoring their religious duties.\n  Their eyes are without light, like the narcissus,\n  Their breasts devoid of spiritual wealth.\n  Preachers and S\u00faf\u00eds, all worship worldliness alike;             1525\n  The prestige of the pure religion is ruined.\n  Our preacher fixed his eyes on the pagoda\n  And the mufti of the Faith sold his decision.\n  After this, O friends, what are we to do?\n  Our guide turns his face towards the wine-house.                1530\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[96] This appears to be a pseudonym assumed by the author.\n\n[97] Jal\u00e1lu\u2019dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed.\n\n[98] B\u00e1b\u00e1 Kam\u00e1ludd\u00edn Jund\u00ed. For Shams-i Tabr\u00edz and his relation to\nJal\u00e1lu\u2019dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed see my _Selected Poems from the Div\u00e1ni Shamsi Tabr\u00edz_\n(Cambridge, 1898).\n\n[99] Abraham refused to worship the sun, moon, and stars, saying, \u201cI\nlove not them that set\u201d (Koran, ch. 6, v. 76).\n\n[100] See note 81 on l. 1040.\n\n[101] In the _Masnav\u00ed_ Love is called \u201cthe physician of our pride and\nself-conceit, our Plato and our Galen.\u201d\n\n[102] The famous idol of Somnath was destroyed by Sultan Mahm\u00fad of\nGhazna.\n\n[103] The pilgrims are forbidden to kill game.\n\n[104] See note 90 on l. 1258.\n\n\n\n\nXVII\n\n_Time is a sword._\n\n\n  Green be the pure grave of Sh\u00e1fi`\u00ed,[105]\n  Whose vine hath cheered a whole world!\n  His thought plucked a star from heaven:\n  He named Time \u201ca cutting sword.\u201d\n  How shall I say what is the secret of this sword?               1535\n  All its brilliance is derived from Life.\n  Its owner is exalted above hope and fear,\n  His hand is whiter than the hand of Moses.\n  At one stroke thereof water gushes from the rock\n  And the sea becomes land from dearth of moisture.               1540\n  Moses held this sword in his hand,\n  Therefore he wrought more than man may contrive.\n  He clove the Red Sea asunder\n  And made its waters like dry earth.\n  The arm of Ali, the conqueror of Khaibar,                       1545\n  Drew its strength from this same sword.\n  The revolution of the sky is visible,\n  The change of day and night is perceived.\n  Look, O thou enthralled by Yesterday and To-morrow,\n  Behold another world in thine own heart!                        1550\n  Thou hast sown the seed of darkness in thy clay,\n  Thou hast imagined Time as a line:\n  Thy thought measures length of Time\n  With the measure of night and day.\n  Thou mak\u2019st this line a girdle on thine infidel waist;          1555\n  Thou art an advertiser of falsehood, like idols.\n  Thou wert the Elixir, and thou hast become a peck of dust;\n  Thou wert born the conscience of Truth, and thou hast become\n      a lie!\n  Art thou a Moslem? Then cast off this girdle!\n  Be a candle to the feast of the religion of the free!           1560\n  Knowing not the origin of Time,\n  Thou art ignorant of everlasting Life.\n  How long wilt thou be a thrall of night and day?\n  Learn the mystery of Time from the words \u201cI have a time with\n      God.\u201d[106]\n  Phenomena arise from the march of Time,                         1565\n  Life is a part of the contents of Time\u2019s consciousness.\n  The cause of Time is not the revolution of the sun:\n  Time is everlasting, but the sun does not last for ever.\n  Time is joy and sorrow, festival and fast;\n  Time is the secret of moonlight and sunlight.                   1570\n  Thou hast extended Time, like Space,\n  And distinguished Yesterday from To-morrow.\n  Thou hast fled, like a scent, from thine own garden;\n  Thou hast made thy prison with thine own hand.\n  Our Time, which has neither beginning nor end,                  1575\n  Blossoms from the flower-bed of our mind.\n  To know its root quickens the living with new life:\n  Its being is more splendid than the dawn.\n  Life is of Time, and Time is of Life:\n  \u201cDo not abuse Time!\u201d was the command of the Prophet.            1580\n\n  Oh, the memory of those days when Time\u2019s sword\n  Was allied with the strength of our hands![107]\n  We sowed the seed of religion in men\u2019s hearts\n  And unveiled the face of Truth;\n  Our nails tore loose the knot of this world,                    1585\n  Our bowing in prayer gave blessings to the earth.\n  From the jar of Truth we made rosy wine gush forth,\n  We charged against the ancient taverns.\n  O thou in whose cup is old wine,\n  A wine so hot that the glass is well-nigh turned to water,      1590\n  Wilt thou in thy pride and arrogance and self-conceit\n  Taunt us with our emptiness?\n  Our cup, too, hath graced the symposium;\n  Our breast hath owned a spirit.\n  A new age hath been endued with our beauty                      1595\n  And hath risen from the dust of our feet.\n  Our blood hath watered God\u2019s harvest,\n  All worshippers of God are our debtors.\n  The _takb\u00edr_ was our gift to the world,[108]\n  Ka`bas were built of our clay.                                  1600\n  By means of us God taught the Koran,\n  From our hand He dispensed His bounty.\n  Although crown and signet have passed from us,\n  Do not look with contempt on our beggarliness!\n  In thine eyes we are good for nothing,                          1605\n  Thinking old thoughts, despicable.\n  We have honour from \u201cThere is no god but Allah,\u201d\n  We are the preservers of the universe.\n  Freed from the vexation of to-day and to-morrow,\n  We have pledged ourselves to love One.                          1610\n  We are the conscience hidden in God\u2019s heart,\n  We are the heirs of Moses and Aaron.\n  Sun and moon are still bright with our radiance,\n  Lightning-flashes still lurk in our cloud.\n  Our essence is the mirror of the Divine essence:                1615\n  The Moslem\u2019s being is one of the signs of God.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[105] Founder of one of the four great Mohammedan schools of law.\n\n[106] The Prophet said, \u201cI have a time with God of such sort that\nneither angel nor prophet is my peer,\u201d meaning (if we interpret his\nwords according to the sense of this passage) that he felt himself to\nbe timeless.\n\n[107] The glorious days when Islam first set out to convert and conquer\nthe world.\n\n[108] The _takb\u00edr_ is the cry \u201c_Allah akbar_,\u201d \u201cAllah is most great.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nXVIII\n\n_An invocation._\n\n\n  O Thou that art as the soul in the body of the universe,\n  Thou art our soul and thou art ever fleeing from us.\n  Thou breathest music into Life\u2019s lute;\n  Life envies Death when death is for thy sake.                   1620\n  Once more bring comfort to our sad hearts,\n  Once more dwell in our breasts!\n  Once more let us hear thy call to honour,\n  Strengthen our weak love.\n  We are oft complaining of destiny,                              1625\n  Thou art of great price and we have naught.\n  Hide not thy fair face from the empty-handed!\n  Sell cheap the love of Salm\u00e1n and Bil\u00e1l![109]\n  Give us the sleepless eye and the passionate heart,\n  Give us again the nature of quicksilver!                        1630\n  Show unto us one of thy manifest signs,\n  That the necks of our enemies may be bowed!\n  Make this chaff a mountain crested with fire,\n  Burn with our fire all that is not God!\n  When the people let the clue of Unity go from their hands,      1635\n  They fell into a hundred mazes.\n  We are dispersed like stars in the world;\n  Though of the same family, we are strange to one another.\n  Bind again these scattered leaves,\n  Revive the law of love!                                         1640\n  Take us back to serve thee as of old,\n  Commit thy cause to them that love thee!\n  We are travellers: give us devotion as our goal!\n  Give us the strong faith of Abraham!\n  Make us know the meaning of \u201cThere is no god,\u201d                  1645\n  Make us acquainted with the mystery of \u201cexcept Allah\u201d!\n  I who burn like a candle for the sake of others\n  Teach myself to weep like the candle.\n  O God! a tear that is heart-enkindling,\n  Passionful, wrung forth by pain, peace-consuming,               1650\n  May I sow in the garden, and may it grow into a fire\n  That washes away the fire-brand from the tulip\u2019s robe!\n  My heart is with yestereve, my eye is on to-morrow:\n  Amidst the company I am alone.\n  \u201cEvery one fancies he is my friend,                             1655\n  But my secret thoughts have not escaped from my heart.\u201d\n  Oh, where in the wide world is my comrade?\n  I am the Bush of Sinai: where is my Moses?\n  I am tyrannous, I have done many a wrong to myself,\n  I have nourished a flame in my bosom,                           1660\n  A flame that seized the furniture of judgement,\n  And cast fire on the skirt of discretion,\n  And lessoned with madness the reason,\n  And burned up the existence of knowledge:\n  Its blaze enthrones the sun in the sky,                         1665\n  And lightnings encircle it with adoration for ever.\n  Mine eye fell to weeping, like dew,\n  Since I was entrusted with that hidden fire.\n  I taught the candle to burn openly,\n  While I myself burned unseen by the world\u2019s eye.                1670\n  At last flames breathed from every hair of me,\n  Fire dropped from the veins of my thought:\n  My nightingale picked up the spark-grains\n  And created a fire-tempered song.\n  Is the breast of this age without a heart?                      1675\n  Majn\u00fan trembles lest Lail\u00e1\u2019s howdah be empty.\n  It is not easy for the candle to throb alone:\n  Ah, is there no moth worthy of me?\n  How long shall I wait for one to share my grief?\n  How long must I search for a confidant?                         1680\n  O Thou whose face lends light to the moon and the stars,\n  Withdraw thy fire from my soul!\n  Take back what Thou hast put in my breast,\n  Remove the stabbing radiance from my mirror,\n  Or give me one old comrade                                      1685\n  To be the mirror of mine all-burning love!\n  In the sea wave tosses side by side with wave:\n  Each hath a partner in its emotion.\n  In heaven star consorts with star,\n  And the bright moon lays her head on the knees of Night.        1690\n  Morning touches Night\u2019s dark side,\n  And To-day throws itself against To-morrow.\n  One river loses its being in another,\n  A waft of air dies in perfume.\n  There is dancing in every nook of the wine-house,               1695\n  Madman dances with madman.\n  Howbeit in thine essence Thou art single,\n  Thou hast decked out for Thyself a whole world.\n  I am as the tulip of the field,\n  In the midst of a company I am alone.                           1700\n  I beg of Thy grace a sympathising friend,\n  An adept in the mysteries of my nature,\n  A friend endowed with madness and wisdom,\n  One that knoweth not the phantom of vain things,\n  That I may confide my lament to his soul                        1705\n  And see again my face in his heart.\n  His image I will mould of mine own clay,\n  I will be to him both idol and worshipper.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[109] Salm\u00e1n was a Persian, Bil\u00e1l an Abyssinian. Both had been slaves\nand were devoted henchmen of the Prophet.\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE\n\n\nObsolete, archaic, inconsistent and unusual spellings have been\nmaintained from the original text. The only changes to the text were:\n\n- In footnote 38, \u201cJal\u00e1lu\u2019dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed\u201d was originally \u201cJal\u00e1lu\u2019ddin R\u00fam\u00ed.\u201d\n\n- The line number on line 995 was missing.\n\n- On line 1300, \u201cPleiades\u201d was originally \u201cPleiads.\u201d\n\n- On line 1428, \u201cJal\u00e1lu\u2019dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed\u201d was originally \u201cJal\u00e1ludd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed.\u201d\n\n- In footnote 97, \u201cJal\u00e1lu\u2019dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed\u201d was originally \u201cJal\u00e1ludd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed.\u201d\n\n- In footnote 98, \u201cJal\u00e1lu\u2019dd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed\u201d was originally \u201cJal\u00e1ludd\u00edn R\u00fam\u00ed.\u201d\n\nI also changed internal cross-references from notes and pages to line\nnumber (or section of the Introduction) and footnote number.\n\nFootnote 76 gives the meaning of the name Murtaz\u00e1 as \u201che whom with\nGod is pleased.\u201d This translation is awkward, so awkward that it\nappears to me likely that it is wrong, _i.e._ \u201cwith whom\u201d rather\nthan \u201cwhom with.\u201d However I checked other sources, and the meaning\nas stated is correct, although \u201che who is pleased with God,\u201d or \u201che\nwho is content with God,\u201d or \u201che for whom God is sufficient\u201d might be\neasier to read.\n\nFootnote 90 includes a word in Greek. When the original book has text\nin another alphabet, I include both the text in the other alphabet\nand a transliteration, because some reading platforms are not able to\ndisplay the other alphabet.\n\nFootnote 98 refers to another book by the translator: _Selected Poems\nfrom the Div\u00e1ni Shamsi Tabr\u00edz_. This is the title as published,\nalthough elsewhere in this work the author is referred to as Shams-i\nTabr\u00edz.","title":"The Secrets of the Self (Asrar-i Khudi) \u2014 A Philosophical Poem","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":21116}