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

The Prophet’s Scribe Becomes an Apostate
204

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So then to make the twigs stay still once more
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The sea will throw them all out on the shore,
Though when its surge absorbs them, in a 
flash
It does what 
fire does to turn wood to ash––
This topic’s endless so let’s now return,
Harut and Marut’s bitter fate to learn.
The remainder of the story of Harut and Marut; their punishment
in this world inside the pit of Babylon
Since the depravity of people here
To both of them had started to be clear,
They waved their 
fists in anger at mankind
While to their own shortcomings they were blind;
One saw his ugly features in the mirror,
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Then turned away from it, enraged and bitter:
Conceited men see other people’s sin,
A
fire from hell then flares up deep within.
‘Protection of the faith’ they call this pride,
Their in
fidel self-love dictates inside!
The true protector of the faith I’ve seen,
He’s di
fferent, he makes things fresh and green.
‘If you’re enlightened,’ God then told the pair,
‘At heedless evildoers’ deeds don’t stare!
Give thanks, my angel-servants, that you’re free
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From bonds of lust and sexuality ––
If I had given you those kinds of states,
The heavens wouldn’t let you in their gates,
The chastity that your forms both possess
Shows my a
ffection and immaculateness––
Consider me and not yourself the source,
Don’t you succumb to that cursed devil’s force!’
That one who for the Prophet used to write
Saw in himself God’s wisdom and His light,
He thought he must himself be God’s apostle,
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But was a fake just like a hunter’s whistle.
The Prophet’s Scribe Becomes an Apostate
205

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The songs of birds you cleverly can name,
But do you know the songbirds’ actual aim?
You’ve heard the singing of the nightingale,
Not knowing love, its form’s of no avail;
If you do know, it’s guesswork anyway ––
The way the deaf must lip-read what men say.
A deaf man went to visit his sick neighbour
A partially deaf man heard someone say
That his own neighbour had got sick that day,
He thought, ‘I’m deaf –– what will I comprehend
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Of sentiments expressed by my sick friend,
For he’s now ill and might have lost his voice?
But I’m obliged to go, I have no choice.
When I see this friend’s lips move, then I’ll guess
The sentiments he’s trying to express:
When I ask him, ‘How are you, dearest friend?’
He’ll say, ‘Alright’, or ‘I am on the mend.’
I’ll ask, ‘What have you had for lunch today?’
‘Some bean soup and some tonic,’ he will say,
‘To health!’ I’ll say. ‘To whom do you now go
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For treatment?’ He’ll say, ‘Doctor so-and-so’,
I’ll say, ‘He’s very talented and blessed
So everything will turn out for the best;
I’ve seen myself his power and skilfulness,
Whatever he’s tried he has met success.’
He thus rehearsed such comments in his head,
Then went to see his sick friend in his bed:
‘How are you?’ –– ‘Almost dead!’ –– ‘The Lord be praised!’
The sick friend grew o
ffended and amazed,
Thinking, ‘Praise God? Does this man want a 
fight?’
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The deaf man’s guesses hadn’t turned out right!
He asked, ‘What have you had?’ –– ‘A poisonous drink!’
He said, ‘To health!’ –– The sick man reached the brink.
The deaf man asked ‘Which doctor’s coming then
To treat you so that you’ll feel well again?’
The Prophet’s Scribe Becomes an Apostate
206

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‘The Angel of Death –– so just go away!’
The deaf man said, ‘Rejoice! He’ll save the day!’
His visitor left, thinking this inside:
‘Thank God I came!’ He was self-satis
fied.
The sick man thought, ‘He’s my worst enemy;
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I never knew he could act spitefully!’
He then thought of expletives in his mind
To write to him swear words of every kind!
When someone swallows soup that has turned bad,
He soon feels ill and vomits what he’s had: