Idries Shah

A donkey and a camel were walking along together. The camel moved with long strides and the donkey moves impatiently, stumbling every now and then. At last the donkey said to his companion. “How is it that I am always in trouble, falling and grazing my legs, in spite of the fact that I look carefully downwards as I walk; when you, who never seems to be aware of what surrounds you, with your eyes fixed upon the horizon, keep going so fast and yet seemingly at such leisure?”
The camel answered: ” Your problem is that your steps are too short and by the time you have seen something it is too late to correct your movements. You look all around and do not assess what you see. You think that seeing near is the same as seeing far.
You guess that I look at the horizon. In fact, I am merely gazing ahead so as to work out what to do when the far becomes near. I also remember what has gone before, and do not need to look back at it and stumble once again. In this way what seems to you baffling or difficult becomes clear and easy.’
Similarly donkey-minded people are those who believe that they can learn enough to improve themselves or their lot by short sighted means. This means not looking towards the future or even into it. It includes demanding a certain pace without realizing whether it is counterproductive or not. The ass is the ordinary person, the camel is the sufi.

~The Commanding Self, Idries Shah

Adonis (Ali Ahmad Sa’id)

How often you have said:

I have my other homeland,

and your eyes filled with tears,

and your palms filled with the lightning

of its approaching regions.
Have your eyes ever known

that the land recognises

every single passer- by

save your own footsteps,

wherever they cried or rejoiced,

here, as you sang, or there?
Have your eyes ever known

that the land is but one:

dried of udder and entrails?
Have your eyes come to know

that the land is ignorant

of the rites of rejection?
Have your eyes realised

that you are the very land?

Li Bai /Li Po

Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk,

Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes.

Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream,

Birds are far off, people too are few.

Üzeyir Lokman Çayci

Had this tree but one lonely branch

That leaning over just reached out

For the thoughts of those who love...

We surely would have come to love to taste its fruit

So I never get enough of it even from my window.

You see, its leaves will never fall

On Earth's blind shoulders,

Instead it just keeps growing, growing up

Into the arms of the wind

Had this tree but one lonely branch,

It would pierce straight on through to skies so blue

And tender stars to silence

And disobey the wind.

Adonis (Ali Ahmad Sa’id)

Travelling,but staying still.

O, sun,

how do I attain the skill

of your footsteps ?

Jalaluddin Rumi

Jesus laughed a lot. John the Baptist wept a lot. John said to Jesus, “You have become very secure from God’s subtle trials to laugh so much.”“You,” replied Jesus, “are very heedless of God’s subtle and mysterious blessing and grace to weep so much!”One of God’s saints, who was present at this exchange, asked God which of the two was the more exalted in understanding. God answered, “The one who thinks better of me,” that is, “Whatever my servant conceives of me, I am in that conception. I have a form and image for each of My servants. Whatever each of them imagines Me to be, that I am. I am bound to all images where the Divine is conceived; I am aloof from any reality where God is not. O my servants, cleanse your thoughts, for they are my dwelling places. Now observe yourself and see what is more beneficial to you—weeping, laughter, fasting, prayer, or retreat. Adopt whichever of these suits you best and causes you to grow in realization."

Fihi ma Fihi, Mevlana’s Discourses

Rumi

A man

standing on two logs in a river

might do all right floating with the current

while humming in the

now.

Though

if one log is tied to a camel,

who is also heading south along the bank

–at the same pace-

all could still be well

with the world
unless the camel

thinks he forgot something, and

abruptly turns upstream,then
uh-oh.

Most minds

do not live in the present

and can stick to a reasonable plan;

most minds abruptly turn

and undermine the

chance

of humming.

Ibn Arabi

The ringnecked dove cooed.
A sad man yearned,
disquieted
by the echo of her longing.

At the sound of her desire,
eyes welled,
sudden as underground springs
bursting.

She mourned her
only one. I responded.
Loss is the loss
of your one and only.

I called back a cry
but grief was between us.
I revealed myself.
She stayed hidden.

I felt love’s sting
on the sands of Alij
white tents along the slopes,
the large-of-eyes,

gaze languid,
glances fatal,
eyelids sheathes
of swords that glisten.

I choked back tears
from what was hurting me,
hiding my love from the blame-monger,
acting well.

Until the crow cawed
time to leave, time for separation
and exposed the love runs wild
of a man who grieves.

The riders reached, cutting
the nose-rings of their camels,
red roans beneath the saddle,
moaning, yearning.

Before my eye
I saw the cords of fated death,
as they loosened the reins
and clinched the strap of the saddle.

In the fever of love,
separation kills.
Finding her
would ease the burning.

No one blames me
wanting her.
I love her
beauty wherever she turns.

A. R. Ammons

The reeds give

way to the
wind

and give

the wind

away.

Ma'arif-e-Mathnawi(Vol. 1)-Rumi

The Story of Luqman(A.S.) and the Melon
Luqman(A.S.) had great love for the Almighty, that it created within him high moral character and exemplary habits. This was a clear sign of his nobility and nearness to Allah. The details of that is described in Surah(Chapter) Luqman in the Glorious Qur'an.
Luqman(A.S.) used to be in the employ of a rich man. The nobility of Luqman(A.S.)'s character had a great effect on his master, so much so that the master considered him as a great friend and a beloved companion. Although he was the master, yet in fact the master became like a slave to his employee.
It became the practice of the master that whenever he had something special to eat, he would first feed Luqman(A.S.) of it and after Luqman(A.S.) had filled himself, he would eat the left overs. Luqman(A.S.) would consider the love of the master and his habit, so he would eat moderately and send what was left over to the master.
One day, during the melon season, the master received a melon from somewhere. At that time Luqman(A.S.) was not present. The master sent one of his slaves to go and call him. When Luqman(A.S.) arrived, the master cut the melon into slices and slice by slice started giving thereof to Luqman(A.S.) to eat. As he ate the slices, the master inwardly became pleased at the effect his love was having upon Luqman(A.S.).
Luqman(A.S.) ate the slices with great PLEASURE and all the time expressed THANKS for the favour shown to him by the master. After having eaten the slices, when just one slice remained, the master said: "Let me eat this slice and see how sweet is this melon." Saying this, he put the slice into his mouth. Immediately, such bitterness spread from the tip of his tongue down to his throat, that as a result of the extreme bitterness of the meoln, he fell down unconscious and remained unconscious for a whole hour.
When he regained consciousness, he questioned Luqman(A.S.): " O Beloved one, How did you manage to, so heartily eat those slices of melon ? Just one slice of the melon had such an effect on me, then how did you manage to eat so many slices ?" Luqman(A.S.) replied: "O Friend, from your hands I have received hundreds of gifts. The burden of thanks upon me is so great, that my back has gone crooked. Hence, I felt ashamed that the hand that had granted me so much favours, if one day some distastefulness or bitterness should come, how can I turn away from it ? O Friend, the pleasure of knowing that it comes from your hands has changed the bitterness of the melon to sweetness."

John Ashbery

You meant more than life to me.

I lived through you not knowing, not knowing I was living.

I learned that you called for me.

I came to where you were living, up a stair.

There was no one there.

No one to appreciate me.

The legality of it upset a chair.

Many times to celebrate we were called together

and where we had been there was nothing there, nothing that is anywhere.

We passed obliquely, leaving no stare.

When the sun was done muttering, in an optimistic way,

it was time to leave that there.
Blithely passing in and out of where,

blushing shyly at the tag on the overcoat near the window where the outside crept away,

I put aside the there and now.

Now it was time to stumble anew, blacking out when time came in the window.

There was not much of it left.

I laughed and put my hands shyly across your eyes.

Can you see now?

Yes I can see I am only in the where

where the blossoming stream takes off, under your window.

Go presently you said.

Go from my window.

I am in love with your window

I cannot undermine it,

I said.

Khwaja Abdullah Ansari

Lord, send me staggering with the wine

Of Your love!

Ring my feet

With the chains of Your slavery!

Empty me of everything but Your love

And in it destroy and resurrect me!

Any hunger You awaken

Can only end in Feast!

Thinkers of the East- Idries Shah

A Sufi once said: This world is like the robes upon a dancer dancing, the folds and creases, the light and shadow, constantly changing and shifting, flowing and streaming, and this part of us falls in love with the robe instead of the dancer within the robe and it becomes a fetish, and we hurt when the folds and creases, the light and shadow upon the robe change from what we have fallen in love with; yet, as long as the dancer dances, these will always change, and as long as we see only the robes of the dancer, see only the folds and creases of the robe, the lights and shadows upon the robe, the colours and textures of the robe, we will always be hurt, always be disappointed, always be let down and rejected.
Look for the dancer within the robe of this world.

They tell me: “Crush the desire for Layla in your heart!” But I implore Thee, oh my God, let it grow even stronger. Take what is left of my life and add it to Layla’s. Let me never demand from her as much as a single hair, even if my pain reduces me to the width of one.
Let her punish and torment me. Let her wine alone fill my cup, my name never to be spoken without her seal. My life shall be sacrificed, my blood shall be spilled freely for her. Though I burn for her in agony, like a candle, none of my days shall be free of this pain. Let me love, oh my God, love for love’s own sake, and make my love a hundred times as great as it was and is!’
Such was Majnun’s prayer to the Almighty as his father silently listened. What could he say? He knew now that he could not loosen the fetters binding his heart, could not find a cure for its ills. There was nothing to do but leave Mecca and start on the voyage home, where they waited impatiently in sorrow and fear. And when they arrived, his entire family surrounded the Sayyid. “How was it?” they cried. “Tell us, has Allah helped? Is he saved?”
But the old man’s eyes looked tired and sad. “I have tried, I have told him how to ask God for relief from this curse, this Layla. But he clung to his own ideas. What did he do? He cursed himself and blessed Layla.”

Rumi

The wakened lover speaks directly to the beloved,

"You are the sky my spirit circles in,

the love inside of love, the resurrection-place.
Let this window be your ear.

I have lost consciousness many times

with longing for your listening silence,

and your life-quickening smile.
You give attention to the smallest matters,

my suspicious doubts, and to the greatest.
You know my coins are counterfeit,

but you accept them anyway,

my impudence and my pretending!
I have five things to say,five fingers to give

into your grace.
First, when I was apart from you,
this world did not exist, nor any other.

Second, whatever I was looking for
was always you.

Third, why did I ever learn to count to three?
Fourth, my cornfield is burning!
Fifth, this finger stands for Rabia,
and this is for someone else.

Is there a difference?

Are these words or tears?

Is weeping speech?

What shall I do, my love?"
So he speaks, and everyone around

begins to cry with him,

laughing crazily,moaning in the spreading union

of lover and beloved.
This is the true religion.

All others

are thrown-away bandages beside it.
This is the sema of slavery and mastery

dancing together.

This is not-being.
Neither words, nor any natural fact can express this.
I know these dancers.

Day and night I sing their songs

in this phenomenal cage.
My soul, don't try to answer now!

Find a friend, and hide.
But what can stay hidden?

Love's secret is always lifting its head out from under the covers,

"Here I am!"