The Masnavi, Book One (Oxford World's Classics)

In explanation of the fact that, just as the beggar loves the wealth of
the donor, the wealth of the donor also loves the beggar; if the beggar
had more patience the donor would come to him. However, whereas
patience is perfection for the beggar, for the donor it is a defect
The shout ‘Come, seeker!’ startled like a bell
‘Muni
ficence needs to be begged as well.’
It seeks itself the beggars and the weak
Just as clear mirrors are what fair girls seek:
A fair face by a mirror can be shown,
As beggars make bene
ficence well known,
And so in 
By the morning
* God decrees
‘Don’t shout, Mohammad, when the beggar pleas!’
Since beggars mirror your own generous grace
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Don’t speak too close –– you’ll blur the mirror’s face.
Beggars reveal men’s generosity,
And which one has bestowed abundantly;
Thus beggars mirror God’s muni
ficence,
With God they turn to pure bene
ficence,
While all the rest are corpses, nothing more,
And they can’t enter through the king’s court door.
The di
fference between one who is needy of God with thirst for Him
and one who is destitute of God and thirsts for other things
He looks a dervish but the truth is known ––
Don’t throw this image of a dog a bone!
It isn’t God he seeks but food instead,
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Don’t serve a plateful to a man who’s dead!
The dervish who seeks food is like a newt,
He
flees the sea which he appears to suit––
A housebird not the phoenix in the sky,
She eats sweet treats not food sent from on high,
The Poor Bedouin and his Wife
169

---

She loves God simply for what He bestows,
Her soul does not love beauty, heaven knows!
She may think that she truly loves the essence
But for His attributes she dreams up nonsense;
Imaginings are formed and they were born
2770
But
He was not begotten,
* so read on:
The one who loves his own conception’s face
Can’t love the Generous One who has such grace,
But if that kind of lover is sincere
Through metaphor to him truth might appear;
An explanation of this is required
But I fear worn-out minds are much too tired:
Worn-out, short-sighted minds continually
Feed fancies to end our tranquillity,
And not by everyone is 
fine speech heard:
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Figs are not suitable for every bird,
Especially the dead and putrid kind,
Heads full of fancies, eyes completely blind,
Since for a 
fish’s portrait sea and land
Are one, like soap and coal for a black hand:
Though you should paint a portrait that looks sad,
Feelings of grief and joy it’s never had!
Its form is sad but it is unaware;
When its form smiles it also has no share.
This grief and joy etched in your heart are naught
2780
But a mere image next to what He’s brought,
The image’s form smiles still for your sake
So through it truth’s expressed with no mistake;
The pictures painted on a bathhouse wall
Are just like clothes outside the changing hall:
You see just clothes so long as you’re outside,
Take o
ff your clothes, my friend, and step inside!
With clothes on you can never enter there
As body is from soul veiled, unaware.
The Poor Bedouin and his Wife
170

---

The caliph’s chamberlains and guards step forward to honour the
bedouin and accept his gift
Thus from the furthest desert this man came
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Up through the court’s gates, reaching thus his aim,
Some chamberlains approached him then to spray
Rose water of pure grace on him this way;
They knew without words what he’d come to ask:
To give before they’re asked was their main task.
‘