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

The Escape of the Merchant’s Parrot
112

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We’re bees, our body’s like the honeycomb,
Since through our soul we’ve built home after home.
Resumption of the story of the merchant
It is too long to detail in this text
In that last narrative what happened next:
The parrot’s owner pined and burnt with pain,
1825
Muttering nonsense which now 
filled his brain––
Opposite states: in need, then haughtily,
True ecstasy, then metaphorically.
A drowning man believes he’s going to die,
And grasps at straws that happen to drift by,
To see if one might save him from this strife
He
flaps his arms to hold on to dear life!
The Loved One loves to see us scream and weep,
To struggle thus is better than to sleep;
The king is not without work, but he still
1830
Will never moan because he isn’t ill,
And so the Merciful chose to declare,
‘
Each day He’s busy with a new a
ffair.’*
Persist in struggle till you meet your end,
Don’t even take the slightest pause, my friend,
So that your 
final breath may be the one
Which wins the gift of mystic union;
Whatever men and women seek to try
Is noticed by the soul’s king’s watchful eye.
The merchant 
flings the parrot out of the cage and
the dead bird 
flies away
He emptied out the cage just like a cup;
1835
The parrot fell out, but then 
flew straight up,
The dead bird soared just like the solar ray
That rises in the East to start each day;
This left him dumbstruck, he could not see how:
Amazed, he sensed the parrot’s secrets now;
The Escape of the Merchant’s Parrot
113

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He looked up, asked her, ‘Parrot, won’t you wait!
Like nightingales explain our present state!
Is it that Indian parrot’s ways you’ve learned,
To trick and roast me till my heart is burnt?’
Yes, through her actions, she showed me how to
1840
Give up my voice and loyalty to you:
Since it’s my voice for which I’ve been con
fined––
She acted dead to bring this to my mind,
To say, ‘Sweet-singing bird, pretend like me,
Just make yourself look dead and you’ll be free.’
If you’re a seed, you’re feed for every chick,
If you’re a bud, you’re just what children pick;
So hide the seed and be a snare instead,
Change buds to roof straw there above your head;
Whoever auctions o
ff his own best trait
1845
Will soon be sent the worst of luck by fate,
Evil eyes, rages, jealousies begin
To pour on him like water from a skin,
And envious enemies tear him in two ––
Friends steal his life from him, I swear it’s true!
Those unaware that spring is for rebirth
Cannot perceive what time is really worth,
Take refuge in God’s grace and you will know
That He pours kindness down on us below,
Why seek another refuge from your plight?
1850
For you both 
fire and water now will fight:
Moses and Noah’s refuge was the sea
Which showed its anger to the enemy,
And
fire protected Abraham as well––
Smoke rose from Nimrod’s heart as if from hell;
The mountain beckoned John the Baptist near,
*
Its rocks made his pursuers run in fear:
It said, ‘Come and escape now with your life,
‘You’re safe in me from every sharpened knife.’
The Escape of the Merchant’s Parrot
114

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The parrot says farewell to the merchant and 
flies away
The parrot gave him words to contemplate
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Then said, ‘Farewell, we now must separate.’
The merchant said, ‘God be with you each day
Now that you’ve shown me a more worthy way!’
He said then to himself, ‘I’ve understood
To take the path of all the wise and good.
How can my soul be less than that mere bird’s?
The soul must follow good ways, heed her words.’