Remaining in the worst times just as true.
2225
Seek out this group before you’re next distressed,
Afflicted man, judge them a treasure-chest.
The hero’s breath released the ship, but they
Thought they’d done it themselves still anyway,
They thought at this most dangerous moment still
Their arrow struck the aim through their own skill.
Foxes’ legs save them during hunting season,
They credit though their tails for no good reason,
And play with them so fondly, thinking: ‘They
Saved our lives in the ambush yesterday.’
2230
Fox, save your tail from brickbats. A mere tail,
When you have no legs, is of no avail.
We’re foxes, Friends of God our legs who save
Us from so many dangers that are grave.
Our subtle scheming is our tail, and we
Make love to it each day continually:
We wag our tails with our argumentation,
To dazzle men and win their admiration.
We want to dazzle people constantly
And lustfully grab at divinity,
2235
To rule hearts with mere spells—but there’s a hitch:
We can’t see that we’re stuck deep in a ditch.
You wretch, you’re in a ditch despite your airs—
Keep your nose out of other men’s affairs!
Once you have reached a lovely garden, you
Can then lead other people up there too.
You live in the material world’s cramped gaol,
And try to guide the rest to no avail.
You serve the donkey, kissing its backside
Yet try to lead us to that place with pride!
2240
Serving God didn’t suddenly appear
In you, so how did lust for rule reach here.
You have tied cords around yourself just to
Make everyone say ‘Bravo!’ now to you.
Fox, leave this tail of tricks and cunning things—
Entrust your heart now to the mystic kings.
A lion’s protection guarantees you meat,
So don’t rush to a carcass now to eat!
You’ll start to love God at that moment, soul,
When you move like a part back to its whole.
2245
God said, ‘We watch the heart and do not pay
Heed to the form of water and mere clay.’
You answer, ‘I too own a heart, you know.’
Real hearts are higher than God’s own throne though:
There’s water in dark mud across the land,
But that’s not suitable to wash your hand,
For it’s been spoiled by mud, so don’t you start
To claim your heart is also a real heart.
Hearts loftier than the heavens are possessed
By Abdals and the Prophets, not the rest.
2250
Cleansed of soil, theirs is purified and it
Has grown to be complete, immaculate.
Abandoning soil, it has now reached the sea;
It’s oceanic—from soil’s gaol it’s free.
Our water, though, is trapped in mud today—
Ocean of mercy, draw us out of clay!
The ocean says, ‘I’d drag you here somehow,
But you pretend you are sweet water now.’
Your own pretence blocks you—give up that view
And come out into me, as I draw you.
2255
Water in mud desires to join the sea,
But mud still pulls its feet back stubbornly—
If water frees its feet from mud’s grip, then
Mud is left dry, and it is free again.
What draws from mud the water, friend of mine?
Attraction to the mystic sweets and wine.
There is a very similar kind of lust
For rank and wealth in this low realm of dust:
Each one of these makes you intoxicated
And hangovers come when your lust’s frustrated;
2260
The hangover’s ache proves your drunkenness
Originates from sources valued less.
Don’t take more of such things than you must do
Or they’ll soon conquer and rule over you.
You turned away; ‘I have a heart!’ you cried,
‘I am in union, with needs satisfied.’
Water in mud once turned away and said:
‘I am pure water—why should I seek aid?’
You reckoned that polluted thing a heart
And from the mystic lords kept it apart;
2265
That thing loves milk and honey—do you feel
It should be counted as a heart that’s real?
Sweetness is the heart’s shadow, so of course
Each sweet thing gets this from the heart, its source.
The heart’s the essence and the world is just
Its accident, for which no heart can lust;
Can hearts love wealth and status like a fool
Or be the captive of a muddy pool?
Or worship vain thoughts and imagination
For the sake only of good reputation?
2270
The heart’s naught but an ocean of pure light;
It’s where you see God—how can it lack sight?
The heart’s not owned by everyone around,
But just one person—where can he be found?
Forget those crumbs, seek a complete heart, friend!
So yours will be a mountain in the end.
The heart encompasses all being; you’ll see
It scatter gold through generosity—
It scatters blessings through its own volition
From God, to reach the world’s whole population.
2275
All gold that the heart scatters is collected
By those whose skirts are ready and corrected;
Your skirt’s your desperate need for God, no less—
Don’t place in it your store of wickedness,
Or else it might get torn by that mistake—
Then you won’t tell a real coin from a fake.
You’ve filled your skirt with worldly stones, a few
Being gold and silver, just as children do.
They are imaginary, since there’s no gold;
Your skirt got torn and grief increased tenfold.
2280
How can a stone be seen as a mere stone
By children till their brain makes this fact known?
The pir* is wisdom, not mere greying hair,
Which cannot reach their realm beyond compare.
That group disapprove of the supplication and intercession by Daquqi and fly away, disappearing beyond the veil over the Unseen. Daquqi becomes bewildered, asking: ‘Did they disappear into the air or into the ground?’
Once the ship had been rescued fully there
The congregation finished then their prayer.
They started murmuring what soon grew clearer:
‘Who was that busybody interferer?’
Each one of them would speak up critically,
Hidden then from the ears of Daquqi,
2285
Saying, ‘It wasn’t me who made that prayer
To God to save that boat with special care.’
One added, ‘That prayer leader through despair
Interfered by performing such a prayer.’
Another said, ‘You’re right; it seemed to me
Exactly as you’ve thought it all to be.
He interfered because grief left him pained,
And tried now to oppose what God ordained.’
Daquqi thought, ‘When I now looked behind
To try to find out what was on their mind,
2290
I couldn’t see there any of the
m—they
Had somehow all just disappeared away:
Neither above, below, the left, or right,
I couldn’t spot them anywhere in sight,
As if they were such pearls that melt away
Without a footprint or dust tracks that stay.
That moment they’d all entered in God’s dome—
Into which meadow did that flock then roam?
I stayed perplexed and wondered how God hid
That group from my eyes suddenly as he did.’
The way that fish dive into streams—they too
Became concealed so quickly from his view.
He grieved the loss of them for many years,
And out of longing shed so many tears.
We might well think, ‘How should God’s slave be seeing
Alongside God his fellow human being?’
The ass collapses here, for you saw all
Of them as merely flesh and not of soul.
The whole affair is ruined, immature man,
For, like the vulgar, you saw them as human.
2300
You looked at them in wretched Satan’s way
When he said, ‘I’m of fire, while he’s of clay.’*
Close your Satanic eye for just one moment!
On seeing external forms why be insistent?
Stop your sore eyes from streaming—don’t despair,
Daquqi, seek such men out everywhere.
To gain good fortune seeking is the start;
Paths open when your wish consumes your heart.
Detached from this world, with no thought to spare
For it, and cooing dove-like to ask, ‘Where?’*
2305
Veiled one, consider well this observation:
God linked ‘I’ll answer’* to Man’s supplication.
The prayer of the pure heart is ailment-free;
It reaches the Great Lord of Majesty.
A further explanation of the story about the one who, in the time of David, sought a lawful livelihood without exertion or toil, and how his prayer was answered
I’ll now recall for you an earlier tale:
A pauper day and night would moan and wail,
Begging God for a lawful sustenance
That won’t require hunts, work, or effort once.
About some of its aspects I have told,
But the postponement has become fivefold.
2310
We’ll mention it now too—where can it go,
When, from the clouds, God’s wisdom pours below.
The owner of the cow screamed furiously:
‘You who have shown my cow such cruelty,
Explain to me why you have murdered her;
For once be decent, stupid pilferer!’
‘I faced the Lord’s direction’, that man said,
‘And begged him in my prayer for daily bread.
My old, decrepit prayer drew a response:
I killed it as that was my sustenance.’
2315
The owner grabbed his collar violently,
Then punched his face a while impatiently.
The two adversaries go before David
To Prophet David he then dragged the pauper,
Saying, ‘Come with me wretched, stupid robber!
Leave your proofs, bastard! They will not convince.
Wake up again! Use some intelligence!
What prayer? What are you mumbling now at me?
Do not insult and mock my dignity!’
‘In saying that prayer’, then the pauper said,
‘Inside I’ve suffered; a high price I’ve paid.
2320
I’m sure my prayer was answered in that way,
So beat yourself, foul-mouthed one! Go away!’
The owner shouted, ‘Muslims, gather round
To witness drivel from one who’s unsound—
For God’s sake, how can what belongs to me
Through prayer become instead his property?
If that were true, the whole world could use prayers
To claim another’s property as theirs.
If that were true, blind beggars could change then
Into fine princes and rich noble men—
2325
They make such supplications day and night:
“God give to us!” they beg without respite,
“Unless You give, no one will give at all.
Opener, open the lock!” the beggars bawl.
Prayer is the means in which the blind must trust,
But they receive naught but a stale loaf’s crust.’
The people said, ‘The truth is what we’re hearing;
The other one with prayers is profiteering!
How can prayer be possession’s proof and cause?
2330
Something becomes yours through donation, sale,
Bequest, and gift, or it’s of no avail.
Where is this new law? Cite the page as well!
Give back the cow or it’s the prison cell!’
He looked up at the sky, ‘No one but You
Knows the reality and what is true.
It’s You who put inside my heart that prayer
And raised a hundred hopes inside of there—
My claim’s not idle, though that’s how it seems;
Like Prophet Joseph I had seen some dreams.’
2335
Joseph had seen the sun and stars prostrate
Before him, though that is a servant’s trait.
He trusted in his dream, so in the well
And prison, he sought naught else—time would tell.
That reassurance spared him from distress
In slavery, blame, and owning more or less.
He would rely on that dream, which shone bright
Just like a glowing candle to his sight.
When Joseph was thrown down the well, a cry
Came down to reach his pure ears from on high:
2340
‘You will become a king one day, and then
You’ll rub injustice in their face again.’
The One who said this wasn’t visible,
But to the heart He was perceptible:
Much strength, support, and inner peace he found
Inside his soul due to that speech’s sound.
This strength helped him endure contentedly
Whatever came his way of tragedy.
A feast and rosebush soon replaced that well;
Abraham’s fire changed just like this as well.*
2345
The way Alast’s deep question gave a savour
That keeps believers’ hearts content forever;
They never struggle to resist affliction,
Nor feel upset due to God’s prohibition.
Rose syrup shall consume the bitter taste
Of portions of God’s will that they have faced.
But those without rose syrup as digestive
Will vomit morsels that they find repulsive.
Whoever’s dreamed once of Alast’s fine day
Is drunk entirely on devotion’s way—
2350
Like drunken camels, he now bears his sack
Without doubts, flagging, or becoming slack.
His mouth foams too with holy testimony,
As proof he’s drunk and lovesick genuinely.
This camel has become now lion-strong
Through eating little food for very long.
For the she-camel numerous fasts he’ll bear;
A mountain he’ll regard a strand of hair.
One who has not dreamed of Alast meets failure:
In this world they lack mystical endeavour.
2355
Instead he’ll vacillate much, still unclear,
Thanking God, then complaining for a year,
Forward then backward on
religion’s way,
Uncertain, vacillating every day.
I owe you help, so you can understand—
Listen one moment: ‘Did we not expand?’*
The explanation’s limitless, so now
Let’s go back to the man who claimed the cow:
The one who killed it prayed, ‘That fake called me
Blind due to this, and spoke unfaithfully.
2360
When have I ever prayed like blind men plead
Or shown to anyone but God my need?
To men, in ignorance, the blind make pleas;
I want just You, You Who make hardship ease.
He’s blind, but thinks I am. He cannot see
My neediness and deep sincerity.
My blindness is because of love, the kind
Mohammad said “makes people deaf and blind”.