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

Be! And it was ’
* brings His decree
We run in place and placelessness, so free,
Once colour has hemmed colourlessness in
Two Moseses their warring then begin,
The Poor Bedouin and his Wife
152

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When colourlessness is acquired again
Moses and Pharaoh even make peace then.
If doubts come to you still about this state,
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How can this point be free from all debate?
Colourlessness to colour –– that’s the wonder,
And how they should begin to 
fight each other:
Oil is made up of water, isn’t it?
So why then is oil water’s opposite?
If you should try to mix them, you will see
That they will keep apart so stubbornly.
Since rose and thorn belong together too,
Why then is constant 
fighting all they do?
Is it real war, or wisdom in disguise
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Like donkey-sellers’
fights*––just for our eyes?
Or neither –– just confusion for our mind:
The treasure in this ruin one might 
find.
Your treasure with real treasure you confuse,
Such thoughts mean that real treasure you will lose,
Such fancies are like populated land ––
Treasure is not found there, you understand;
Such settlements are 
filled with life and war––
Non-being felt such shame at what it saw!
Being did not try 
fleeing Non-existence
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But It sent being home despite resistance:
‘I’m
fleeing Non-existence’ don’t you claim!
It runs away from you, but you’ve no shame!
It calls you to itself just outwardly,
But drives you o
ff with cudgels inwardly,
Like changing footprints so you can’t be tracked:
*
Pharaoh’s distaste is Moses’s in fact.
The reason for the disappointment of the wretched with
both worlds, for ‘He has lost this world and the hereafter’
*
Once a philosopher claimed this, I’ve heard:
‘The sky’s an egg, its yolk earth’ –– how absurd!
So someone asked, ‘How does the earth then stay
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Surrounded totally by sky this way,
The Poor Bedouin and his Wife
153

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Just like a lantern hanging in the air,
Not moving even slightly while it’s there?’
Then the logician said, ‘It’s the sky’s pull
From all the six directions to the full,
Like a magnetic vault, continually,
It holds it like some iron centrally.’
He then said, ‘You are claiming it’s the sky
Which draws this dark earth, but I can’t see why:
Perhaps it just repels from every side
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With heavy winds that keep the earth inside.’
The perfect with their minds repel this way
So Pharaoh’s wayward soul is kept at bay ––
Due to repulsion from both worlds, my friend,
The lost are left with neither in the end.
Even if you should shun God’s slaves today,
They’re sick of your existence anyway;
They’ve amber which a
ffects you just like straw,
Inducing frenzy in you and sheer awe,
But when they hide their amber, your submission
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You quickly change again to 
fierce sedition:
Your rank becomes mere animality ––
This is bound by and needs humanity,
While this humanity the saints control ––
Like animals we need them in this role:
The Prophet called ‘my servants’ all mankind,
Recite then, ‘
O my servants! ’
* for the blind.
Your brain’s the camel-driver driving you!
It drags you everywhere and whips you too!
The saint rules all your intellects, so they
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Are just like camels in their driver’s sway ––
Look carefully, and keep this fact in mind:
There’s one guide with a thousand souls behind.
You ask me, ‘Who’s the driver? Who’s the guide?’
Find eyes which see the sun and then decide!
The world has been nailed down throughout the night,
Waiting just for the sun to spread its light: