XVI. Ali’s Forbearance.
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Jalal al-Din Rumi, Maulana and Redhouse, James W. (James William), Sir
O Answerer of prayer! In mercy guide us right!
Our knowledge, as our riches, null is in Thy sight!
Lead not astray a heart enlightened by Thy grace!423
Turn from us every evil threatening to take place!424
Reprieve our souls from judgment merited, severe!
Repel us not from out the fold of saints, sincere!
More bitter is there naught than severance from Thee.
Without Thy shelter, naught but anguish can we see.
Our minds’ accomplishments impede our hearts’ advance.
Our flesh the deadly enemy that wrecks our souls’ best chance.185
Our hands, like robbers, seize on all our feet may earn.
Unless Thou prove our refuge, life’s not worth concern.
If we perchance escape with life from danger’s snares.
Our fears and anguish make it prey to carking cares.
Should not our souls in union be with Thee, O Lord,
Eternal tears our eyes will blind, and mad discord.
A way shouldst Thou not open, lost must be our souls.
Without Thy presence, life is death;—all smiles are scowls.
Shouldst Thou find fault with service rendered unto Thee,
Thy chiding’s merited, no doubt; as all may see.190
If Thou be discontented with the sun and moon,
Or if Thou call the cypress “hunchback,” “macaroon,”
Or if Thou say the skies and spheres are all too low,
Or find the mines, the seas, a paltry puppet-show,
All this, compared with Thy perfections, is the truth.
Thine is the kingdom; Thine the power to mend all ruth.
Thou art removed from danger, as from nullity.
To non-existences Thou givest being. Why?
He who makes all things grow, can make them wither, too.
For He can all repair, as He can ruin woo.195
Each autumn, vegetation dwindles by His will;
Again ’tis He calls forth the flowers in dale, on hill.
His voice is heard: “Come forth, ye withered ones, anew;
Once more put on your beauty,—charm each mortal’s view.”
Narcissus’ eye was blinded; lo! its twinkle’s seen.
The reed, that down was mowed, becomes sweet music’s queen.
We are but creatures. To create we have no power.
Our weakness we confess. Contentment’s our best dower.
We’re things of flesh. The flesh to vanity unites.
Unless Thou call us, we become rebellious sprites.200