The traditionists have referred this (saying) to the outward (sense), and have been content with that same (outward) form.
راویان این را به ظاهر بردهاند ** هم بر آن صورت قناعت کردهاند
That class (of people) were ignorant of the spirit: they saw the mountain, they did not see the mine in the mountain.2050
بیخبر بودند از جان آن گروه ** کوه را دیده ندیده کان بکوه
In the sight of God that “autumn” is the flesh (nafs) and (its) desires: the reason and the spirit are the essence of spring and are everlasting life.
آن خزان نزد خدا نفس و هواست ** عقل و جان عین بهار است و بقاست
Thou hast a partial reason hidden (within thee): (now) in this world seek one whose reason is perfect.
مر ترا عقل است جزوی در نهان ** کامل العقلی بجو اندر جهان
Through his whole thy part is made whole (and perfect): Universal Reason is like a shackle on the neck of the flesh.
جزو تو از کل او کلی شود ** عقل کل بر نفس چون غلی شود
Therefore, according to the (right) interpretation, it (the meaning) is this, that the holy breaths are like spring and the life of leaf and vine.
پس به تاویل این بود کانفاس پاک ** چون بهار است و حیات برگ و تاک
Against the sayings of the saints, whether soft or rough, do not thou cover thy body, for they are the support of thy religion.2055
از حدیث اولیا نرم و درشت ** تن مپوشان ز آن که دینت راست پشت
Whether he (the saint) speak hot or cold, receive (his words) with joy: in order that thou mayst escape from the hot and cold (of Nature) and from Hell-fire.
گرم گوید سرد گوید خوش بگیر ** تا ز گرم و سرد بجهی وز سعیر
His “hot” and “cold” is life's new season of spring, the source of sincerity and faith and service.
گرم و سردش نو بهار زندگی است ** مایهی صدق و یقین و بندگی است
Inasmuch as the garden of the spirits is living through him, and the sea of (his) heart is filled with these pearls,
ز آن که زو بستان جانها زنده است ** این جواهر بحر دل آگنده است
Thousands of griefs lie (heavy) on a wise man's heart, if from the garden of his heart (even) a toothpick fail (be missing).
بر دل عاقل هزاران غم بود ** گر ز باغ دل خلالی کم شود
How the Siddíqa (‘Á’isha), may God be well-pleased with her, asked Mustafá (Mohammed), God bless him and give him peace, saying, “What was the inner meaning of to-day's rain?”
پرسیدن صدیقه (س) از پیامبر (ص) که سر باران امروزینه چه بود
The Siddíqa said, “O (thou who art the) cream of existence, what was the (true) reason of to-day's rain?2060
گفت صدیقه که ای زبدهی وجود ** حکمت باران امروزین چه بود
Was it (one) of the rains of mercy, or (was it) for the sake of menace and the justice of (Divine) Majesty?
این ز بارانهای رحمت بود یا ** بهر تهدید است و عدل کبریا
Was it from the favour of the vernal attributes, or from a baneful autumnal attribute?”
این از آن لطف بهاریات بود ** یا ز پاییزی پر آفات بود
He said, “This (rain) was for the purpose of allaying the grief that is upon the race of Adam in calamity.
گفت این از بهر تسکین غم است ** کز مصیبت بر نژاد آدم است
If man were to remain in that fire (of grief), much ruin and loss would befall.
گر بر آن آتش بماندی آدمی ** بس خرابی در فتادی و کمی
This world would at once become desolate: (all) selfish desires would go forth from men.”2065
این جهان ویران شدی اندر زمان ** حرصها بیرون شدی از مردمان
Forgetfulness (of God), O beloved, is the pillar (prop) of this world: (spiritual) intelligence is a bane to this world.
استن این عالم ای جان غفلت است ** هوشیاری این جهان را آفت است
Intelligence belongs to that (other) world, and when it prevails, this world is overthrown.
هوشیاری ز آن جهان است و چو آن ** غالب آید پست گردد این جهان
Intelligence is the sun and cupidity the ice; intelligence is the water and this world the dirt.
هوشیاری آفتاب و حرص یخ ** هوشیاری آب و این عالم وسخ
A little trickle (of intelligence) is coming from yonder world, that cupidity and envy may not roar (too loudly) in this world.
ز آن جهان اندک ترشح میرسد ** تا نغرد در جهان حرص و حسد
If the trickle from the Unseen should become greater, in this world neither virtue nor vice will be left.2070
گر ترشح بیشتر گردد ز غیب ** نی هنر ماند در این عالم نه عیب
This (topic) has no bound. Go to the starting-point, go back to the tale of the minstrel.
این ندارد حد سوی آغاز رو ** سوی قصهی مرد مطرب باز رو
The remainder of the story of the old harper and the explanation of its issue (moral)
بقیهی قصهی پیر چنگی و بیان مخلص آن
That minstrel by whom the world was filled with rapture, from whose voice wondrous phantasies grew (arose in the minds of those who heard him),
مطربی کز وی جهان شد پر طرب ** رسته ز آوازش خیالات عجب
At whose song the bird of the soul would take wing, and at whose note the mind of the spirit would be distraught—
از نوایش مرغ دل پران شدی ** وز صدایش هوش جان حیران شدی
When time passed and he grew old, from weakness the falcon, his soul, became a catcher of gnats.
چون بر آمد روزگار و پیر شد ** باز جانش از عجز پشهگیر شد
His back became bent like the back of a wine-jar, the brows over his eyes like a crupper-strap.2075
پشت او خم گشت همچون پشت خم ** ابروان بر چشم همچون پالدم
His charming soul-refreshing voice became ugly and worth nothing to any one.
گشت آواز لطیف جان فزاش ** زشت و نزد کس نیرزیدی به لاش
The tone that had (once) been the envy of Zuhra (Venus) was now like the bray of an old donkey.
آن نوای رشک زهره آمده ** همچو آواز خر پیری شده
Truly, what sweet one is there that did not become unsweet, or what roof that did not become a carpet?—
خود کدامین خوش که او ناخوش نشد ** یا کدامین سقف کان مفرش نشد
Except the voices of holy men in their breasts, from the repercussion of whose breath is the blast of the trumpet (of Resurrection).
غیر آواز عزیزان در صدور ** که بود از عکس دمشان نفخ صور
(Theirs is) the heart by which (all) hearts are made drunken, (theirs is) the nonexistence whereby these existences of ours are made existent.2080
اندرونی کاندرونها مست از اوست ** نیستی کاین هستهامان هست از اوست
He (the saint) is the amber (magnet) of (all) thought and of every voice; he is the (inward) delight of revelation and inspiration and (Divine) mystery.
کهربای فکر و هر آواز او ** لذت الهام و وحی و راز او
When the minstrel grew older and feeble, through not earning (anything) he became indebted for a single loaf of bread.
چون که مطرب پیرتر گشت و ضعیف ** شد ز بیکسبی رهین یک رغیف
He said, “Thou hast given me long life and respite: O God, Thou hast bestowed (many) favours on a vile wretch.
گفت عمر و مهلتم دادی بسی ** لطفها کردی خدایا با خسی
For seventy years I have been committing sin, (yet) not for one day hast Thou withheld Thy bounty from me.
معصیت ورزیدهام هفتاد سال ** باز نگرفتی ز من روزی نوال
I (can) earn nothing: to-day I am Thy guest, I will play the harp for Thee, I am Thine.”2085
نیست کسب امروز مهمان توام ** چنگ بهر تو زنم آن توام
He took up his harp and went in search of God to the graveyard of Medina, crying “Alas!”
چنگ را برداشت و شد الله جو ** سوی گورستان یثرب آه گو
He said, “I crave of God the price of silk (for harpstrings), for He in His kindness accepts adulterated coin.”
گفت خواهم از حق ابریشم بها ** کاو به نیکویی پذیرد قلبها
When he had played a long while and (then), weeping, laid his head down: he made the harp his pillow and dropped on a tomb.
چون که زد بسیار و گریان سر نهاد ** چنگ بالین کرد و بر گوری فتاد
Sleep overtook him: the bird, his soul, escaped from captivity, it let harp and harper go and darted away.
خواب بردش مرغ جانش از حبس رست ** چنگ و چنگی را رها کرد و بجست
It became freed from the body and the pain of this world in the simple (purely spiritual) world and the vast region of the soul.2090
گشت آزاد از تن و رنج جهان ** در جهان ساده و صحرای جان
There his soul was singing what had befallen (it), saying, “If they would but let me stay here,
جان او آن جا سرایان ماجرا ** کاندر اینجا گر بماندندی مرا
Happy would be my soul in this garden and springtide, drunken with this (far stretching) plain and mystic anemone-field.
خوش بدی جانم در این باغ و بهار ** مست این صحرا و غیبی لالهزار
Without wing or foot I would be journeying, without lip or tooth I would be eating sugar.
بیپر و بیپا سفر میکردمی ** بیلب و دندان شکر میخوردمی
With a memory and thought free from brain-sickness, I would frolic with the dwellers in Heaven.
ذکر و فکری فارغ از رنج دماغ ** کردمی با ساکنان چرخ لاغ
With eye shut I would be seeing a (whole) world, without a hand I would be gathering roses and basil.”2095
چشم بسته عالمی میدیدمی ** ورد و ریحان بیکفی میچیدمی
The water-bird (his soul) was plunged in a sea of honey— the fountain of Job, to drink and wash in,
مرغ آبی غرق دریای عسل ** عین ایوبی شراب و مغتسل
Whereby Job, from his feet to the crown of his head, was purged of afflictions (and made pure) like the light of the sunrise.
که بدو ایوب از پا تا به فرق ** پاک شد از رنجها چون نور شرق
If the Mathnawí were as the sky in magnitude, not half the portion of this (mystery) would find room in it,
مثنوی در حجم گر بودی چو چرخ ** درنگنجیدی در او زین نیم برخ