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

The hare brings the news about the lion falling in the
well to the other animals
The hare escaped like this through his shrewd plan,
To celebrate towards the rest he ran,
He’d seen the lion humbled now and slain
And so he cartwheeled all across the plain.
On
fleeing death the hare began to clap
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And dance like leaves which in the breeze would 
flap;
How a Hare Killed the Tyrannical Lion
84

---

Both branch and leaf like this escape earth’s gaol ––
They lift their heads and with the wind set sail:
When leaves burst forth from branches, they ascend
Up to the tree’s most high and furthest end;
Using the words of God who said, ‘
It sprouts’.
The praise of God each leaf and fruit then shouts:
The Giver nourished every root of ours
Until our trees 
stood tall and straight
* like towers.
Souls that are bound in bodies made of clay
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Feel ecstasy when they can 
fly away,
They dance to songs of passionate, sacred love,
Expanding like the full moon high above,
Dancing inside as well as outwardly,
Whirling around their souls which we can’t see.
He’d gaoled the lion, who now burnt with shame,
A lion hares can slay must be so tame!
Although he was thus taken for a ride
This lion claims the title of ‘Faith’s Pride’!
*
He’s in the empty well, abandoned there,
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Slain by his carnal soul, not just the hare.
Your donkey self feeds in the open plain,
You’re down the well bound by your questioning’s chain.
The lion-slayer rushed back home to sing,
‘
Rejoice, dear kin, good news is what I bring:
It’s time to celebrate and sing our songs,
That dog from hell is back where he belongs!
Our own survival’s foe has lost the bout,
The lion’s maker pulled his teeth all out;
That one who loved to bully, pounce, and bash
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The broom of death has brushed away like trash!’
The beasts of prey gather round the hare to praise him
They formed a circle there immediately,
Happy and laughing, wild with ecstasy ––
He was the torch around whom they all stood
And bowed while shouting, ‘Heavens, this is good!
How a Hare Killed the Tyrannical Lion
85

---

Are you an angel or a spirit-friend?
Or Azrael, who tells foes it’s the end?
We’d give our lives no matter who you are,
May you stay strong and 
fit, victorious star!
Since God diverted water to your stream,
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“Bravo!” to both your hands and arms we scream!
Please tell us how you thought up this 
fine trap
And rubbed it in his face with a hard slap!
Tell us, and let the tale become our cure,
The balm to make our souls feel quite secure,
For that cruel tyrant’s constant wickedness
Wounded our souls and caused so much distress.’
The hare said, ‘Friends, it was God’s loving care ––
Without that what on earth is a mere hare!
He gave me strength and made my heart shine bright,
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My hands and feet were strengthened by that light;
From God come both kind favours such as these
And wrathfulness that brings you to your knees:
In turn, God shows his sheer bene
ficence
To those who ask to see some evidence.
The hare advises the other animals: ‘Don’t celebrate merely this!’
‘Now don’t rejoice in wealth that’s temporary,
Victim of time, don’t eat as though you’re free!
When one has wealth beyond vicissitude
The drums of heaven make this understood;
Eternal kings by time are never bound,
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Their spirits with the Saqi circle round ––
Stop drinking here for just a little while,
Sip the eternal wine, and always smile.’
Interpretation of ‘We have returned from the lesser
jihad to the greater jihad’
*
Dear kings, we’ve killed the enemy outside,
A worse foe still remains for us inside:
The Greater Jihad
86

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Your brain does not know how to kill this foe:
A hare can’t bring this inner lion low!
The self is hell, a dragon wishing harm,
The sea can’t cool it down or keep it calm:
I drank the seven seas, was fully drenched,
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That human-burner’s thirst was still not quenched!
The in
fidels, whose hearts are hard as stones,
Enter this 
fire, ashamed, with screams and groans,
But hell’s not sated by such food at all,
At least until the Lord should 
finally call:
‘Are you full yet?’ The glutton answers, ‘No!
Can you not see from there my burning glow!’
It makes the world a morsel, swallows it,
Then screams, ‘
Is there not still another bit?’
*
God stamps on it from Placelessness,
* before
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Be! And it was,
* makes it feel full once more.
Our stubborn selfhood is a part of hell,