XVI. Ali’s Forbearance.
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Jalal al-Din Rumi, Maulana and Redhouse, James W. (James William), Sir
My life’s at thy behest; forthwith pour out my blood!
So shall my soul escape the burden of crime’s brood.”
Then ‘Alī answered: “Should each sun-mote take a knife,
Or sword draw, with design to sacrifice thy life,
One single hair’s-breadth could they not, yet, take effect,
Since Providence decrees ’tis thou must work that act.
But sorrow not! Thy intercessor I will be!
Lord of my soul am I;—not slave to fleshly fee.
My body frail no value has now in my sight;
From flesh when liberated shall my soul feel light.225
The dagger and the sword may take root in my limbs.
Death’s but a banquet; wounds, a flower that graceful climbs.”428
Now, who can thus despise his body in his heart,
And yet feel greed for empire, or for pontiffs part?
He strove, ’tis evident, upon the judgment seat,
To set a good example to all future great;
To breathe a righteous spirit into monarchs’ breasts;
Make sure that goodly fruit come from their deeds and gests.
The Prophet’s high endeavour, Mekka to subdue,
Had no foundation in a lust for revenue.230
He had refused the treasures of the lofty spheres;
On day of trial shut his heart to hopes and fears.
To catch a glimpse of him the blest angelic train
Had crowded heaven’s bounds full as they could contain;
In dainty guise, to honour him themselves arrayed;
He took no note. On God alone his thoughts were stayed.
His heart was filled with sense of his great Maker’s grace.
The angels, or the prophets, there could find no place.
He said: “I’m he whose eyes swerved not;” no crow, I! See!429
“The Limner is my love; from juice of vine I’m free.”430235
The treasures of “the spheres,” their “animating souls,”
As rubbish were accounted, driven by breeze that rolls.
What, then, would Mekka weigh,—the Persian, Syrian lands,—
That he should covet them, spoil make them for his bands?
Suspicion such as this springs from a jaundiced mind.
It judges by itself;—all, tinged as self must find.
Green spectacles who sets upon his foolish nose,
To view the sun, will find him green, we must suppose.
Take off the spectacles, the source of colour’s tinge,
He straightway sees aright. Now, nature’s hues impinge.240