Original content

English translation

Like that harsh, smooth-tongued person who planted a bramble in the middle of the road. Passers-by reproached him, then told him, 'Uproot this!' but he did not. Every moment that bramble grew larger, and the people's feet became full of blood from its wounds. People's garments were torn by the thorns, and the feet of dervishes were sorely wounded. When the governor earnestly told him, 'Uproot this,' he replied, 'Yes, I will uproot it some day.' For a long time he promised 'tomorrow and tomorrow,' while his thorn-tree became firmly rooted. One day the governor said to him, 'O breaker of promises, come forward, do not lag behind in our business.' He said, 'Days, O uncle, are between us.' He (the governor) said, 'Hasten, do not delay our debt. You who say "tomorrow," know this, that with every day that time brings, That evil tree grows younger, while this uprooter grows old and helpless. The bramble is gaining strength and rising, the bramble-puller is aging and waning. The bramble every day and moment greener and fresher, the bramble-puller every day more wretched and drier. It grows younger, you grow older; be quick and do not waste your time!' Know that each of your bad traits is a bramble, many a time, in the end, its thorns have pierced your feet. Many a time you have been wounded by your own traits, you have no sense, you have become very senseless. If from the wounding of other people, who suffer from your ugly disposition, You are heedless, at least you are not [heedless] of your own wound; you are a torment to yourself and to every stranger. Either take up an axe and strike like a man; like Ali, tear down this door of Khaybar! Or graft this thorn onto a rosebush, graft the light of the Friend with the fire, So that His light may extinguish your fire, and union with Him may turn your thorn into a rose-garden. You are like Hell, He is the believer; it is possible for the believer to kill the fire. Mustafa (the Prophet) said, from the words of Hell, that it will supplicate the believer out of fear, Saying to him, 'Pass quickly away from me, O king! Hark, for your light has taken away the burning of my fire.' Therefore, the ruin of the fire is the light of the believer, because without a contrary, repelling a contrary is impossible. Fire is the opposite of light on the Day of Justice, for that was roused by wrath, and this by grace. If you desire to repel the evil of the fire, direct the water of mercy over the heart of the fire. The spring of that water of mercy is the believer, the water of life is the pure spirit of the benefactor. Your carnal soul is very much fleeing from him, because you are of fire, and he is a stream of water. Fire flees from water for this reason, that its fire is destroyed by water. Your senses and thoughts are all from fire, the senses of the Sheikh and his thoughts are a pleasant light. When the water of his light drips upon the fire, a hissing sound arises and leaps up from the fire. When it hisses, say to it, 'Death and pain!' so that this hell of your carnal soul may become cold, So that it may not burn your rose-garden, so that it may not burn your justice and beneficence. After that, it will produce something that yields fruit, it will yield tulips, eglantines, and sweet basil. Again we are wandering wide from the straight path; return, O master! Where is our path? We were in that discourse, O envious one, that your donkey is lame and the halting-place is far—be quick! The year has grown late, it is no time for sowing; there is nothing but a black face and ugly deeds. The worm has fallen into the root of the tree of the body; it must be uprooted and cast into the fire. Hark, hark, O traveler, it has become late! The sun of life has gone down toward the pit. These two fleeting days that you have strength, quickly, scatter alms from the path of bounty. Expend this amount of seed that remains to you, so that from these two breaths, a long life may grow. Before this jeweled lamp goes out, hark, quickly provide it with wick and oil! Hark, do not say 'tomorrow,' for tomorrows have passed; lest the days of sowing pass away entirely. Listen to my advice, for the body is a strong fetter; put off the old, if you have a desire for the new. Close your lips and open your palm full of gold; abandon the body's miserliness and bring forward generosity. Renouncing lusts and pleasures is generosity; whoever sank into lust did not rise again. This generosity is a branch of the cypress of Paradise; woe to him who let such a branch slip from his grasp! This renunciation of desire is the 'firmest handle'; this branch draws the soul up to heaven. So that the branch of generosity, O you of good religion, may bear you, drawing you upward, to its origin. You are the Joseph of beauty, and this world is like a well, and this rope is patience with the command of God. O Joseph! The rope has come, seize it with both hands! Do not be heedless of the rope, it has grown late. Praise be to God that they let down this rope, they mingled grace and mercy together, So that you may see the new world of the soul, a world very manifest, yet invisible. This world is non-existent, [but] has become like those that exist; and that world exists, [but] has become very hidden. Dust is on the wind and is playing; it is making a false show and forming a veil. This which is at work is idle and a husk, while that which is hidden is the kernel and its root. The dust is like a tool in the hand of the wind; know the wind to be exalted and of exalted lineage. The eye of dust fixes its gaze on the dust; the eye that sees the wind is of another kind. A horse knows a horse, for it is a companion; also, a rider knows the states of a rider. The eye of sense is the horse, and the Light of God is the rider; without the rider, the horse is of no use. Therefore, train the horse away from bad habits; otherwise, the horse will be rejected before the king. The eye of the horse takes its direction from the eye of the king; its eye without the king's eye is helpless. The eye of horses, except toward grass and pasture, wherever you call it, says, 'No, why?' The Light of God becomes the rider on the light of sense; then the soul becomes desirous of God. What does a horse without a rider know of the custom of the road? A king is needed to know the king's highway. Go toward a sense on which His Light is the rider; that Light is a good master for the sense. The Light of God is the adornment of the light of sense; this is the meaning of 'Light upon Light.' The light of sense draws toward the earth; His Light of God bears it toward the Most High. Because the objects of sense are a lower world; the Light of God is the sea, and the sense is like a dewdrop. But that rider is not visible upon it, except by its effects and its goodly speech. The light of sense, which is dense and heavy, is hidden in the black of the eyes. Since you do not see the light of sense with the eye, how will you see that religious Light with the eye? The light of sense, with this density, is hidden; how should a radiance that is pure not be hidden? This world is like straw in the hand of the unseen wind; it has taken helplessness before the unseen justice. Now He raises it high, now He makes it low; now He makes it whole, now He breaks it. Now He carries it to the right, now to the left; now He makes it a rose-garden, now a thorn. The hand is hidden, while the pen is seen writing; the horse is galloping, and the rider is invisible. See the arrow flying, and the bow invisible; souls are visible, and the Soul of the soul is hidden. Do not break the arrow, for this is a royal arrow; it is not shot by [just any] thumb-ring, it is from Awareness. 'You did not throw when you threw,' said God; God's action has precedence over [all] actions. Break your own anger, do not break the arrow; your angry eye counts milk as blood. Kiss the arrow and carry it before the king; the blood-stained arrow, wet with your blood. That which is visible is helpless, bound, and weak; and that which is invisible is so fierce and restive. We are the prey; whose is such a snare? We are the ball of the polo-stick; where is the polo-player? He tears and sews; where is this tailor? He blows and burns; where is this naphtha-thrower? For an hour He makes the truthful one an infidel; for an hour He makes the heretic an ascetic. Because the devoted one is in danger from the snare, until he becomes completely purified from himself. Because he is on the way, and the highwaymen are boundless; he escapes who is in the security of God. The mirror has not become pure, it is [only] being purified; he has not caught the bird, he is the fowler. When the devoted one became purely devoted, he was delivered; he went to the station of safety and won the game. No mirror ever became iron again; no bread ever became the wheat of the harvest again. No grape ever became a sour grape again; no ripe fruit was ever returned to the raw state. Become ripe and be far removed from alteration; go, become light like the verified Burhan. When you escaped from yourself, you became entirely proof; when the servant became non-existent, he became the sultan. And if you want it clearly, Salahuddin showed it; he made the eyes seeing and opened them. Every eye that possesses the light of 'Hu' (God) saw poverty (spiritual richness) from his eye and his visage. The Sheikh is active without instruments, like God; he has given lessons to disciples without speaking. The heart in his hand is soft and tame like wax; his seal sometimes makes for disgrace, sometimes for fame. The seal of his wax tells of the signet ring; again, of whom does that engraving on the ring tell? It tells of the thought of that goldsmith; the chain of each link is within another. This echo in the mountain of hearts—whose voice is it? Sometimes this mountain is full of the voice, sometimes empty. Wherever He is, He is the Wise, the Master; may His voice not be absent from this mountain of the heart. There is a mountain that doubles the voice; there is a mountain that multiplies the voice a hundredfold. From that voice and speech, the mountain causes to flow a hundred thousand springs of clear water. When that grace departs from the mountain, the waters in the springs turn to blood. It was from that King with the auspicious horseshoe, that the whole of Mount Sinai was a ruby. The parts of the mountain received life and intellect; are we less than stone, after all, O company? Not one spring gushes forth from our soul, nor does our body become of the green-clad ones. No echo of an eager voice in it, nor the purity of the cupbearer's draught in it. Where is the zeal...