Topic: Soma Book Club: The Masnavi (Book 1)(Updated post)

[nichi]

I thought it would be interesting to C&P this ... this is from a list to which I subscribe, called "Sunlight".

Mawlana Jalal-ad-Din Muhammad Rumi was born on September 30, 1207

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In memory of the birth of Maulaana Jalalludin Balkhi, known as Rumi, Sunlight offers the first verses from his Mathnawi, the story of The Song of the Reed, in an interpretive version by Jonathan Star, in translation by Dr. Franklin Lewis, and in translation by Dr. Ibrahim Gamard.....

(I added a Coleman Barks translation at the end.)

The Song of the Reed

Listen to the song of the reed,
How it wails with the pain of separation:

"Ever since I was taken from my reed bed
My woeful song has caused men and women to weep.
I seek out those whose hearts are torn by separation
For only they understand the pain of this longing.
Whoever is taken away from his homeland
Yearns for the day he will return.
In every gathering, among those who are happy or sad,
I cry with the same lament.
Everyone hears according to his own understanding,
None has searched for the secrets within me.
My secret is found in my lament
But an eye or ear without light cannot know it . . ."

The sound of the reed comes from fire, not wind
What use is one's life without this fire?
It is the fire of love that brings music to the reed.
It is the ferment of love that gives taste to the wine.
The song of the reed soothes the pain of lost love.
Its melody sweeps the veils from the heart.
Can there be a poison so bitter or a sugar so sweet
As the song of the reed?
To hear the song of the reed
everything you have ever known must be left behind.

-- Version by Jonathan Star
"Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved"
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~

Listen
as this reed
pipes its plaint
unfolds its tale
of separations:
Cut from my reedy bed
my crying
ever since
makes men and women
weep
I like to keep my breast
carved with loss
to convey
the pain of longing ---
Once severed
from the root
thirst for union
with the source
endures

I raise my plaint
in any kind of crowd
in front of both
the blessed and the bad
For what they think they hear me say, they love me --
None gaze in me my secrets to discern
My secret is not separate from my cry
But ears and eyes lack light to see it.

Not soul from flesh
nor flesh from soul are veiled
yet none is granted leave to see the soul.
Fire, not breath, makes music through that pipe --
Let all who lack that fire be blown away.
It is love's fire that inspires the reed
It's love's ferment that bubbles in the wine
The reed, soother to all sundered lovers --
its piercing modes reveal our hidden pain:
(What's like the reed, both poison and physic,
Soothing as it pines and yearns away?)
The reed tells the tale of a blood-stained quest
singing legends of love's mad obsessions

Only the swooning know such awareness
only the ear can comprehend the tongue

In our sadness time slides listlessly by
the days searing inside us as they pass.

But so what if the days may slip away?
so long as you, Uniquely Pure, abide.

Within this sea drown all who drink but fish
If lived by bread alone, the day seems long
No raw soul ever kens the cooked one's state
So let talk of it be brief; go in piece.

Break off your chains
My son, be free!
How long enslaved
by silver, gold?
Pour the ocean
in a pitcher,
can it hold more
than one day's store?
The jug, like a greedy eye,
never gets its fill
only the contented oyster holds the pearl

The one run ragged by love and haggard
gets purged of all his faults and greeds
Welcome, Love!
sweet salutary suffering
and healer of our maladies!

cure of our pride
of our conceits,
our Plato,
Our Galen!
By Love
our earthly flesh
borne to heaven
our mountains
made supple
moved to dance

Love moved Mount Sinai, my love,
and it made Moses swoon. [K7:143]

Let me touch those harmonious lips
and I, reed-like, will tell what may be told

A man may know a myriad of songs
but cut from those who know his tongue, he's dumb.
Once the rose wilts and the garden fades
the nightingale will no more sing his tune.

The Beloved is everything -- the lover, a veil
The Beloved's alive -- the lover carrion.
Unsuccored by love, the poor lover is
a plucked bird
Without the Beloved's
surrounding illumination
how perceive what's ahead
and what's gone by?

Love commands these words appear
if no mirror reflects them
in whom lies the fault?
The dross obscures your face
and makes your mirror
unable to reflect

-- Mathnawi I: 1 - 34
Translation by Professor Franklin D. Lewis
"Rumi -- Past and Present, East and West"
Oneworld, Oxford, 2000

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~

The Song of the Reed
Mathnawi I: 1-18

Listen* to the reed (flute),* how it is complaining! * It is telling about separations, *
(Saying), "Ever since I was severed from the reed field,* men and women have lamented in (the presence of) my shrill cries.*
"(But) I want a heart (which is) torn, torn from separation, so that I may explain* the pain of yearning."*
"Anyone one who has remained far from his roots,* seeks a return (to the) time of his union.*
"I lamented in every gathering; I associated with those in bad or happy circumstances.
"(But) everyone became my friend from his (own) opinion; he did not seek my secrets* from within me.
"My secret is not far from my lament, but eyes and ears do not have the light* (to sense it).
"The body is not hidden from the soul, nor the soul from the body; but seeing the soul is not permitted."*
The reed's cry is fire* -- it's not wind! Whoever doesn't have this fire, may he be nothing!*
It is the fire of Love that fell into the reeds. (And) it is the ferment of Love that fell into the wine.*
The reed (is) the companion of anyone who was severed from a friend; its melodies tore our veils.*
Who has seen a poison and a remedy like the reed? Who has seen a harmonious companion and a yearning friend like the reed?
The reed is telling the story of the path full of blood;* it is telling stories of Majnoon's (crazed) love.*
There is no confidant (of) this understanding* except the senseless!
* There is no purchaser of that tongue* except the ear [of the mystic.]
In our longing,* the days became (like) evenings;* the days became fellow-travellers with burning fevers.
If the days have passed, tell (them to) go, (and) don't worry.
(But) You remain!* -- O You, whom no one resembles in Purity!
Everyone becomes satiated by water,* except the fish. (And) everyone who is without daily food [finds that] his days become long.*
None (who is) "raw" can understand the state of the "ripe."*
Therefore, (this) speech must be shortened. So farewell!*

-- From "The Mathnawî-yé Ma`nawî" [Rhymed
Couplets of Deep Spiritual Meaning] of
Jalaluddin Rumi.
Translated from the Persian by Ibrahim Gamard
(with grateful acknowledgement of R.A. Nicholson's
1926 translation)
(c) Ibrahim Gamard (translation, footnotes, and
transliteration)

*Listen: states of spiritual ecstasy were induced in sufi gatherings by listening to mystical poetry and music. During such a "mystical concert" [samâ`-- literally, "audition" or "hearing" session] some dervishes would enter a spiritual state of consciousness and spontaneously begin to move. Sometimes they would stand up and dance or whirl. They would listen to the poetry or music as if they were hearing the voice of God, the Beloved. Such gatherings were controversial, were criticized by orthodox Muslim leaders, and were practiced by very few sufi orders-- usually with restrictions and high standards for participants.

*the reed [nay]: a flute made by cutting a length of a naturally hollow reed cane and adding finger holes. "The nay or reed-flute as the poet's favourite musical instrument and has always been associated with the religious services of the Mawlawí ["Whirling Dervish"] Order, in which music and dancing are prominent features."   (Nicholson, Commentary). The reed flute symbolizes the soul which is emptied of ego-centered desires and preoccupations and is filled with a spiritual passion to return to its original nearness to God.  Rumi said, "The world (is) like a reed pipe [sornây], and He blows into every hole of it; every wail it has (is) certainly from those two lips like sugar. See how He blows into every (piece of) clay (and)  into every heart; He gives a need and He gives a love which raises up a lament about misfortune." (Ghazal 532, lines 5664-5665) Rumi
also said, "We have all been part of Adam (and ) we have heard those
melodies in Paradise. Although (bodily) water and clay have cast skepticism upon us, something of those (melodies) comes (back) to our memory.... Therefore, the mystical concert has become the food of the lovers (of God) for in it is the image of (heavenly) reunion."
(Mathnawî IV: 736-737, 742)

*separations: "The point is that while self-conscious lovers complain of separation from the beloved one, and reproach her for her cruelty, the mystic's complaint (shikáyat) is really no more than the tale (hikákat) of his infinite longing for God-- a tale which God inspires him to tell." (Nicholson, Commentary). Rumi said: "I'm complaining [shikâyat mê-kon-am] about the Soul of the soul; but I am not a complainer [shâkê] -- I'm relating words [rawâyat mê-kon-am]. (My) heart keeps saying, 'I'm afflicted by Him!' And I have been laughing at (its) feeble pretense." (Mathnawî I:1781-82). "Be empty of stomach and cry out, in neediness (neyâz), like the reed flute! Be empty of stomach and tell secrets like the reed pen!" (Divan: Ghazal 1739, line 18239). "Lovers (are) lamenting like the reed flute [nây], and Love is like the Flutist. So, what things will this Love breathe into the reed pipe [sôr-nây] of the body?! The reed pipe is visible, but the pipe-player is hidden. In short, my reed pipe became drunk from the wine of His lips. Sometimes He caresses the reed pipe, sometimes he bites it. (Such) a sigh, because of this sweet-songed reed-breaking Flutist!" (Divan: Ghazal 1936, lines 20374-20376)
Nicholson later changed his translation, based on the earliest manuscripts of the Mathnawi, to "Listen to this reed how it complains: it is telling a tale of separations" (from, "Listen to the reed how it tells a tale, complaining of separations. " This is what the earliest known manuscript has. (This is the "Konya Manuscript," completed five years after Rumi died, and written by Muhammad ibn Abdullâh Qûnyawî, a disciple of Rumi's son, Sultân Walad, under his supervision together with Husâmuddîn Chelabî -- who was present with Rumi during the dictation of every verse of the Mathnawi.) All manuscripts and editions after the 13th century adopted a changed (and "improved") version of this line: "Listen from the nay, how it tells a story... [be-sh'naw az nay chûn Hikâyat mê-kon-ad / az jodâ'îy-hâ shikâyat mê-kon-ad].

*the reed field [nay-estân]: lit., "place of reeds." A symbol for the original homeland of the soul, when it existed harmoniously in the presence of God. "... referring to the descent of the soul from the sphere of Pure Being and Absolute Unity, to which it belongs and would fain return." (Nicholson, Commentary)

*in (the presence of) my shrill cries: Nicholson later changed his translation, based on the earliest manuscript, to: "man and woman have moaned in (unison) with my lament" [dar nafîr-am] (from, "my lament hath caused [az nafîr-am] man and woman to moan").

*explain: a pun on the two meanings of the same word [sharH], "explanation" and "torn."

*the pain of yearning: The longing of love is painful, because of separation-- yet also sweet. This is because the longing brings remembrance of the beloved's beauty. Longing for nearness to a human beloved, such as a spiritual master, is a means for the spiritual disciple to increase his longing for nearness to God, the only Beloved. Rumi said: "If thought of (longing) sorrow is highway-robbing (your) joy, (yet) it is working out a means to provide joy.... It is scattering the yellow leaves from the branch of the heart so that continual green leaves may grow.... Whatever (longing) sorrow sheds or takes from the heart, truly it will bring
better in exchange." (Mathnawi V:3678, 3680, 3683)

*roots: also means foundation, source, origin.

*union: also means being joined.

*my secrets: "The Perfect Man (prophet or saint) is a stranger in the world, unable to communicate his sorrows or share his mystic knowledge except with one of his own kind; he converses with all sorts of people, worldly and spiritual alike, but cannot win from them the heartfelt sympathy and real understanding which he craves.  This is the obvious sense of the passage, and adequate so far as it goes, but behind it lies a far-reaching doctrine concerning the spiritual "Descent of Man.' .... The whole series of planes forms the so-called 'Circle of Existence', which begins in God and ends in God and is traversed by the soul in its downward journey through the Intelligences, the Spheres, and the Elements and then upward again, stage by stage-- mineral, vegetable, animal, and man-- till as Perfect man it completes its evolution and is re-united with the Divine Soul..." (Nicholson, Commentary)

*the light: refers to the ancient Greek theory of Galen, that vision is caused by an "inner light" within the eye. Similarly, the faculty of hearing was believed to be caused by an "inner air" within the ear.

*not permitted: "As the vital spirit, though united with the body, is invisible, so the inmost ground of words issuing from an inspired saint cannot be perceived by the physical senses." (Nicholson, Commentary) The reed flute's speech ends here, and Rumi's commentary begins next.

*The reed's cry is fire: Nicholson, in his Commentary, quotes Rumi's verse (Divan, Ghazal 2994, line 31831): "The flute is all afire and the world is wrapped in smoke; / For fiery is the call of Love that issues from the flute."

*may he be nothing [nêst bâd]: a pun on another meaning of these words -- "it's not wind." It means, "May he experience absence of self so that he may burn with yearning love for the presence of the Beloved." Nicholson interpreted that this means, "The Mathnawí is not mere words; its inspiration comes from God, whose essence is Love. May those yet untouched by the Divine flame be naughted, i.e. die to self!" He said that the words here [nêst bâd] "should not be taken as an imprecation [== a cursing]; the poet, I think, prays that by Divine grace his hearers may be enraptured and lose themselves in God." (Commentary)

*into the wine: "i.e. Love kindles rapture in the heart and makes it like a cup of foaming wine." (Nicholson, Commentary)

*tore our veils [parda-hâ]: a pun on the two meanings of this word, "veils" and "melodies." The meaning of this line is that the sounds of
pure yearning from the reed flute tore through the veils covering up the inward spiritual yearning of listening mystics -- the sufis, who have had the capacity to understand the meaning of the reed flute's melodious wails. This is a reference to the "mystical concert" [samâ`] of the Mevlevi ("Whirling") dervishes in which the reed flute is prominent.

*the path full of blood: "the thorny path of Love, strewn with (Díwán, SP, XLIV, 6) 'with thousands slain of desire who manfully yielded up their lives'; for Love 'consumes everything else but the Beloved' (Math. V 588)." (Nicholson, Commentary)

*Majnoon's crazed love: "Majnún: the mad lover of Laylà: in Súfí literature, a type of mystical self-abandonment. " (Nicholson, Commentary). Majnoon (lit., "jinn-possessed" ) was a legendary Arab lover whose love for the beautiful Laylà [lit., "of the night"] made him crazy. Majnoon's love for Layla also symbolizes the perception of spiritual realities seen only by mystics, as in Rumi's lines: "The Caliph said to Layla, Are you the one by whom Majnoon became disturbed and led astray? You are not more (beautiful) than other fair ones. She said, Be silent, since you are not Majnoon!" (Mathnawi I: 407-08; see also V:1999-2019, 3286-99) This
"craziness" of being an ecstatic mystic lover of God is quite different from the craziness of being psychotic or mentally ill.

*this understanding: "the spiritual or universal reason (`aql-i ma`ád) and transcendental consciousness of those who have escaped from the bondage of the carnal or discursive reason (`aql-i ma`ásh)." (Nicholson, Commentary)

*the senseless [bê-hôsh]: a play on "understanding" (hôsh), and also means devoid of understanding lacking reason, swooned and insensible. The meaning is that no one can understand mystical understanding except one who is able to transcend the intellect.

*that tongue: an idiom for language. The meaning is that only a mystic who is capable of passing beyond the senses and ordinary mind has an "ear" which can understand the "tongue" or language of the heart. Nicholson explained: "i.e. every one desires to hear what is suitable to his understanding; hence the mysteries of Divine Love cannot be communicated to the vulgar" [== ordinary people]. (Commentary)

*longing [gham]: lit., "grief." An idiom here, meaning the suffering of longing love.

*evenings [bê-gâh]: An idiom meaning "evening." Means that the days became quickly used-up. Nicholson (1926) erred in translating this idiom too literally as "untimely." 

*but You remain: 26. God is addressed directly as "Thou," or perhaps indirectly as "Love." "The meaning is: 'What matter though our lives pass away in the tribulation of love, so long as the Beloved remains?'" (Nicholson, Commentary)

*water (âbash): Nicholson later corrected his translation to, "except the fish, every one becomes sated with water" (from, "Whoever is not a fish becomes sated with His water"). As Nicholson pointed out, the word for "water" here [âbash] is a noun (as in III: 1960--Commentary). It therefore does not mean "his water" or "water for him" [âb-ash]. Nicholson also explained: "The infinite Divine grace is to the gnostic [== mystic knower] what water is to the fish, but his thirst can never be quenched." (Commentary)

*become long: Nicholson mentions this as "alluding to the proverb, harkih bí-sír-ast rúz-ash dír-ast" [The days are long for whoever is without satisfaction] (Commentary)

*the state of the ripe [pokhta]: refers to the spiritual state of the spiritually mature, experienced, refined. This contrasts to the state
of the raw [khâm]-- the unripe, immature, inexperienced, uncooked, the one who bears no fruit. Rumi has been quoted as saying, "The result of my life is no more than three words: I was raw [khâm], I became cooked [pokhta], I was burnt [sokht]." However, this is not supported by the earliest manuscripts (collected by Faruzanfar), only one of which contains the following: "The result for me is no more than these three words: I am burnt, I am burnt, I am burnt (or: I am inflamed, burned, and consumed-- Divan, Ghazal 1768, line 18521).
In Rumi's famous story of the man who knocked on the door of a friend, the visitor was asked who he was and he answered, "Me." He was told to go, for he was too "raw" [khâm]. The man was then "cooked" by the fire of separation and returned a year later. Asked who he was, he answered, "Only you are at the door, O beloved."  His spiritual friend then said, "Now, since you are me, O me, come in. There isn't any room for two me's in the house!" (Mathnawi I:3056-63)

*farewell: Here, Rumi's famous first eighteen verses end. Rumi's close disciple, Husamuddin Chelebi had asked him one night: "'The collections of odes [ghazalîyât] have become plentiful... .(But) if there could be a book with the quality of (the sufi poet Sana'i's) 'Book of the Divine,' yet in the (mathnawi) meter of (the sufi poet Attar's) 'Speech of the Birds,' so that it might be memorized among the knowers and be the intimate companion of the souls of the lovers ... so that they would occupy themselves with
nothing else...' At that moment, from the top of his blessed turban, he [Rumi] put into Chelebi Husamuddin's hand a portion (of verses), which was the Explainer of the secrets of Universals and particulars. And in there were the eighteen verses of the beginning of the Mathnawi: 'Listen to this reed, how it tells a tale...." (Aflaki, pp. 739-741) After that, Husamuddin was present with Rumi for every verse he composed of the Mathnawi during the next twelve years until Rumi's death. The number eighteen has been considered sacred in the Mevlevi tradition ever since.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Song of the Reed

Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separated:

“Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.

Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.

At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,

A friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden

within the notes. No ear for that,
body flowing out of spirit,

Spirit from body: no concealing
that mixing. But it’s not given us

to see the soul. The reed flute is
fire, not wind. Be that empty.”

Hear the love fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment

melts into wine. The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric torn

and drawn away. The reed is hurt
and salve combining. Intimacy

and longing for intimacy, one
song. A disastrous surrender

and a fine love, together. The one
who secretly hears this is senseless.

A tongue has one customer, the ear.
A sugarcane flute has such effect

because it was unable to make sugar
in the reedbed. The sound it makes

is for everyone. Days full of wanting,
let them go by without worrying

That they do. Stay where you are
inside such a pure, hollow note.

Every thirst gets satisfied except
that of these fish, the mystics,

who swim a vast ocean of grace
and still somehow long for it!

No one lives in that without
being nourished every day.

But if someone doesn’t want to hear
the song of the reed flute,

it’s best to cut conversation
short, say good-bye, and leave.


--Version by Coleman Barks. From "Say I Am You: Rumi"
(Athens, Georgia: Maypop Books, 1994, pp. 48-49); re-printed in
"The Essential Rumi," pp. 17-19