IX. The Poor Scenite Arab and his Wife.
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Jalal al-Din Rumi, Maulana and Redhouse, James W. (James William), Sir
A fruitful vine thou wert; a blight’s come over thee;
Thy fruit will never ripe, ’twill shrivel on the tree.
Sweet fruit, with flavour, give, thy inward worth to prove.
Thou backwards shouldst not walk, as ropemakers all move.
Thou art my helpmate fond; and fellow-workers all,
Of one mind still should be, or their joint work must fall.
A pair should ever be conformable in aim.
A pair of shoes examine; pair of boots, the same.
If one boot of a pair be too small for the foot,
The pair is useless; vain, the other’s size to moot.65
One boot is small; the other, ’haps, too large is found.
Hast ever known a lion consort with a hound?
Two packs upon a camel equipoise require;
The one must not be half, the other bale entire.
I choose the road that leads straight to contentment’s door,
Why takest thou the path to sin and misery’s floor?”
The woman’s husband, suffering, but resigned still,
Thus spake unto his wife, to calm her restive will.
The woman raised a shout: “O man of simple mind!
I will no longer listen to thy words, though kind.70
Talk not to me of claims, pretensions, and such stuff.
I care not one pin’s point for pride and flimsy fluff.
Why preach so loud of sentiment and honour’s call?
Just look at our condition. Shame upon thee fall!
Pride certainly is wrong; much worse in beggars’ camp.
The day is cold and snowy; all our clothing’s damp.
What nonsense and frivolity thy weak pate doles!
And all the while thy tent, like cobweb, ’s full of holes.
Where didst thou learn contentment’s rule to make thy pride?
Has thy contentment taught thee shame from men to hide?75
The Prophet has declared: ‘Content a treasure is.’
But what knowest thou of treasure? Suffering’s all thy bliss.
Contentment’s but a water-reservoir that leaks.
Do hold thy tongue, thou plague; and cease these foolish freaks.
Thou namest me thy helpmate; lower, pray, thy tone.
I’m fellow unto justice; mate to knavery, none.
Since thou equality with lords and princes claimest,
Why suck the blood of locusts that by chance thou maimest?
Thou fightest for a bone with dogs in this debate.
How shall I not complain, with hunger at our gate?80