[Metrical Translation by E. J. W. Gibb, M. R. A. S.] FROM THE ‘ASHIQ PASHA DIWANI All the Universe, one mighty sign, is shown; God hath myriads of creative acts unknown: None hath seen them, of the races jinn and men, None hath news brought from that realm far off from ken. Never shall thy mind or reason reach that strand, Nor can tongue the King’s name utter of that land. Since ’tis his each nothingness with life to vest, Trouble is there ne’er at all to his behest. Eighteen thousand worlds, from end to end, Do not with him one atom’s worth transcend.
‘Ashiq Pasha.
FROM THE ISKENDER-NAMA Up and sing! O ‘anqa-natured nightingale! High in every business doth thy worth prevail: Sing! for good the words are that from thee proceed; Whatsoever thou dost say is prized indeed. Then, since words to utter thee so well doth suit, Pity were it surely if thy tongue were mute. Blow a blast in utt’rance that the Trusted One, When he hears, ten thousand times may cry: “Well done!” Up and sing! O bird most holy! up and sing! Unto us a story fair and beauteous bring. Let not opportunity slip by, silent there; Unto us the beauty of each word declare. Seldom opportunities like this with thee lie; Sing then, for th’ occasion now is thine, so hie! Lose not opportunities that thy hand doth find, For some day full suddenly Death thy tongue shall bind. Of how many singers, eloquent of words, Bound have Death and Doom the tongues fast in their cords! Lose not, then, th’ occasion, but to joy look now, For one day thy station ’neath earth seek must thou. While the tongue yet floweth, now thy words collect; Them as Meaning’s taper ’midst the feast erect, That thy words, remaining long time after thee, To the listeners’ hearing shall thy record be. Thy mementoes lustrous biding here behind, Through them they’ll recall thee, O my soul, to mind. Those who’ve left mementoes ne’er have died in truth; Those who’ve left no traces ne’er have lived in sooth. Surely with this object didst thou come to earth, That to mind should ever be recalled thy worth. “May I die not!” say’st thou, one of noble race? Strive, then, that thou leavest here a name of grace.
Ahmedi.
FROM THE ISKENDER-NAMA Once unto his Vezir quoth the crownÈd King: “Thou, who in my world-realm knowest everything! With my sword I’ve conquered many and many a shore; Still I sigh right sorely: ‘Ah! to conquer more!’ Great desire is with me realms to overthrow; Through this cause I comfort ne’er a moment know. Is there yet a country whither we may wend, Where as yet our mighty sway doth not extend, That we may it conquer, conquer it outright? Ours shall be the whole earth—ours it shall be quite.” Then, when heard the Vezir what the King did say, Quoth he: “Realm-o’erthrowing Monarch, live for aye! May the Mighty Ruler set thy crown on high, That thy throne may ever all assaults defy! May thy life’s rose-garden never fade away! May thy glory’s orchard never see decay! Thou’st the Peopled Quarter ta’en from end to end; All of its inhabitants slaves before thee bend. There’s on earth no city, neither any land, That is not, O Monarch, under thy command. In the Peopled Quarter Seven Climes are known, And o’er all of these thy sway extends alone!”
Ahmedi.
FROM KHUSREV AND SHIRIN The spot at which did King Khusrev Perviz light Was e’en the ruined dwelling of that moon bright. Whilst wand’ring on, he comes upon that parterre, As on he strolls, it opes before his eyes fair. Among the trees a night-hued courser stands bound (On Heaven’s charger’s breast were envy’s scars found). As softly moved he, sudden on his sight gleamed A moon that in the water shining bright beamed. O what a moon! a sun o’er earth that light rains— Triumphant, happy, blest he who her shade gains. She’d made the pool a casket for her frame fair, And all about that casket spread her dark hair. Her hand did yonder curling serpents back throw— The dawn ’tis, and thereof we never tired grow. He saw the water round about her ear play; In rings upon her shoulders her dark locks lay. When yon heart-winning moon before the King beamed, The King became the sun—in him Love’s fire gleamed. The tears e’en like to water from his eyes rolled;— Was’t strange, when did a Watery Sign the Moon hold? No power was left him, neither sport nor pleasure; He bit his finger, wildered beyond measure. Unconscious of his gaze, the jasmine-breasted— The hyacinths o’er the narcissi rested. When shone her day-face, from that musky cloud bare, Her eyes oped Shirin and beheld the King there. Within that fountain, through dismay and shamed fright, She trembled as on water doth the moonlight. Than this no other refuge could yon moon find That she should round about her her own locks bind. The moon yet beameth through the hair, the dark night, With tresses how could be concealed the sun bright? To hide her from him, round her she her hair flung, And thus as veil her night before her day hung.
Sheykhi /p.
FROM KHUSREV AND SHIRIN
/p When Ferhad bound to fair Shirin his heart’s core, From out his breast Love many a bitter wail tore. On tablet of his life graved, shown was Shirin; Of all else emptied, filled alone with Shirin. As loathed he the companionship of mankind, In wild beasts ’midst the hills did he his friends find. His guide was Pain; his boon companion, Grief’s throe; His comrade, Sorrow; and his closest friend, Woe. Thus wand’ring on, he knew not day from dark night; For many days he onward strayed in sad plight. Although before his face a wall of stone rise, Until he strikes against it, blind his two eyes. Through yearning for his love he from the world fled; From out his soul into his body Death sped. Because he knew that when the earthly frame goes, Eternal, Everlasting Being love shows, He fervent longed to be from fleshly bonds free, That then his life in very truth might Life see. In sooth, till dies the body, Life is ne’er found, Nor with the love of life the Loved One e’er found.
Sheykhi.
YAZIJI-OGLU The Creation of Paradise Hither come, O seeker after Truth! if joy thou wouldest share, Enter on the Mystic Pathway, follow it, then joy thou’lt share. Hearken now what God (exalted high his name!) from naught hath formed. Eden’s bower he hath created; Light, its lamp, he did prepare; Loftiest its sites, and best and fairest are its blest abodes; Midst of each a hall of pearls—not ivory nor teak-wood rare. Each pavilion he from seventy ruddy rubies raised aloft— Dwellings these in which the dwellers sit secure from fear or care. Round within each courtyard seventy splendid houses he hath ranged, Formed of emeralds green—houses these no fault of form that bear. There, within each house, are seventy pearl and gem-incrusted thrones; He upon each throne hath stretched out seventy couches broidered fair; Sits on every couch a maiden of the bourne of loveliness: Moons their foreheads, days their faces, each a jewelled crown doth wear; Wine their rubies, soft their eyes, their eyebrows troublous, causing woe: All-enchanting, Paradise pays tribute to their witching air. Sudden did they see the faces of those damsels dark of eye, Blinded sun and moon were, and Life’s Stream grew bitter then and there. Thou wouldst deem that each was formed of rubies, corals, and of pearls; Question there is none, for God thus in the Qur’an doth declare. Tables seventy, fraught with bounties, he in every house hath placed, And on every tray hath spread out seventy sorts of varied fare. . . . . . . . . . . All these glories, all these honors, all these blessings of delight, All these wondrous mercies surely for his sake he did prepare: Through his love unto Muhammed, he the universe hath framed; Happy, for his sake, the naked and the hungry enter there. O Thou Perfectness of Potence! O Thou God of Awful Might! O Thou Majesty of Glory! O Thou King of Perfect Right!
Since he Eden’s heaven created, all is there complete and whole, So that naught is lacking; nothing he created needs repair. Yonder, for his righteous servants, things so fair hath he devised, That no eye hath e’er beheld them; ope thy soul’s eye, on them stare. Never have his servants heard them, neither can their hearts conceive; Reach unto their comprehension shall this understanding ne’er. There that God a station lofty, of the loftiest, hath reared, That unclouded station he the name Vesila caused to bear, That to his BelovÈd yonder station a dear home may be, Thence ordained is Heaven’s order free from every grief and care. In its courtyard’s riven centre, planted he the Tuba-Tree; That a tree which hangeth downward, high aloft its roots are there: Thus its radiance all the Heavens lighteth up from end to end, Flooding every tent and palace, every lane and every square.
Such a tree the Tuba, that the Gracious One hath in its sap Hidden whatsoe’er there be of gifts and presents good and fair; Forth therefrom crowns, thrones, and jewels, yea, and steeds and coursers come, Golden leaves and clearest crystals, wines most pure beyond compare. For his sake there into being hath he called the Tuba-Tree, That from Ebu-Qasim’s hand might everyone receive his share. . . . . . . . . . . Yaziji-Oglu.
RUBA’I Cup-Bearer, bring, bring here again my yester even’s wine; My harp and rebec bring, them bid address this heart of mine: While still I live, ’tis meet that I should mirth and glee enjoy; The day shall come when none may e’en my resting-place divine.
Sultan Murad II.
GAZEL Souls are fluttered when the morning breezes through thy tresses stray; Waving cypresses are wildered when thy motions they survey. Since with witchcraft thou hast whetted keen the lancet of thy glance, All my veins are bleeding inward through my longing and dismay. “Why across thy cheek disordered float thy tresses?” asked I her. “It is Rum-Eyli; there high-starred heroes gallop,” did she say. Thought I, though I spake not: “In thy quarter, through thy tint and scent, Wretched and head-giddy, wand’ring, those who hope hope not for stray.” “Whence the anger in thy glances, O sweet love?” I said; then she: “Silence! surely if I shed blood, I the ensigns should display.” Even as thou sighest, ‘Avni, shower thine eyes tears fast as rain, Like as follow hard the thunder-roll the floods in dread array.
‘Avni.
FRAGMENT OF GAZEL Torn and pierced my heart has been by thy scorn and tyranny’s blade; Rent by the scissors of grief for thee is the robe that my patience arrayed. Like the mihrab of the Ka’ba, as shrine where in worship to turn, Thy ward would an angel take, if thy footprint there he surveyed. They are pearls, O mine eye! thou sheddest her day-bright face before; Not a tear is left—these all are dried by the beams by her cheek displayed.
‘Avni.
GAZEL To obey Fight hard for Allah is my aim and my desire; ’Tis but zeal for Faith, for Islam, that my ardor doth inspire. Through the grace of Allah, and th’ assistance of the Band Unseen, Is my earnest hope the Infidels to crush with ruin dire. On the Saints and on the Prophets surely doth my trust repose; Through the love of God, to triumph and to conquest I aspire. What if I with soul and gold strive here to wage the Holy War? Praise is God’s! ten thousand sighs for battle in my breast suspire. O Muhammed! through the chosen Ahmed Mukhtar’s glorious aid, Hope I that my might may triumph over Islam’s foes acquire!
‘Avni.
GAZEL Who pleasure seeks must oftentimes experience sad pain, in sooth; He must a beggar be who doth desire to win domain, in sooth. Whene’er I sigh, up rise my tears, they, boiling, fast o’erflow my eyes; Winds surely must full fiercely blow, with waves to fill the main, in sooth. My heart’s domain now thought of thee, now grief for thee, alternate rule; This realm to wreck and waste to lay those two sublime Kings strain, in sooth. Spite zeal and prayers, Truth sure is found within the cup that’s filled with wine; So acts of rakes are free from all hypocrisy’s foul stain, in sooth. O ‘Adeni, rub thou thy face low ’midst the dust that lines her path; For eyes with blood filled stand in need of tutya, health to gain, in sooth.
‘Adeni.
FRAGMENT OF GAZEL When I saw my love’s hair, ambergris-hued, o’er her visage shake, “Strange,” I thought, “a moon, musk-shedding, ’midst the flowers its bed should make!” How thy locks, moon-face, are fallen o’er thy cheek in many a curl! As in day he lies reposing, so in strength doth gain the snake. From thy cheek the rose and tulip tint and scent have stol’n indeed; Therefore through the bazar round they bear them, bounden to the stake.
‘Adeni.
GAZEL Again, then, doth this apple, thy chin, tooth-marks wear! Again they’ve eaten peaches in thine orchard fair! If strange hands have not reached thee, O rosebud-lipped one, Doth thy rose-garden’s pathway a foot-step print bear! I cannot reach thee before rivals all throng thee round: Less for true lover than vile dog dost thou care. Witness that thou with my rivals the cup drain’dst last night, Bears the sleepless and worn look thy languid eyes wear. With whom didst thou last even carouse, that this day Morn’s zephyr about thee did so much news declare? Beholding thy lips hurt, Afitabi hath said: “Again, then, doth this apple, thy chin, tooth-marks wear!”
Afitabi.
GAZEL Cast off thy veil, and heaven and earth in dazzling light array! As radiant Paradise, this poor demented world display! Move thou thy lips, make play the ripples light of Kevser’s pool! Let loose thy scented locks, and odors sweet through earth convey! A musky warrant by thy down was traced, and zephyr charged: “Speed, with this scent subdue the realms of China and Cathay!” O heart! should not thy portion be the Water bright of Life, A thousand times mayst thou pursue Iskender’s darksome way. O Zeyneb, woman’s love of earthly show leave thou behind; Go manly forth, with single heart, forsake adornment gay!
Zeyneb.
GAZEL ‘Ah! thine eyes lay waste the heart, they ’gainst the soul bare daggers dread; See how sanguinary gleam they—blood aye upon blood they shed. Come, the picture of thy down bear unto this my scorchÈd breast— It is customary fresh greens over the broiled flesh to spread. Said I: “O Life! since thy lip is life, to me vouchsafe a kiss.” Smiling rose-like, “Surely, surely, by my life,” she answerÈd. As I weep sore, of my stainÈd eyebrow and my tears of blood, “’Tis the rainbow o’er the shower stretched,” were by all beholders said. While within my heart thine eye’s shaft, send not to my breast despair; Idol mine! guest after guest must not to one same house be led. Through its grieving for thy hyacinth down, thus feeble grown Is the basil, that the gardeners nightly o’er it water shed. Quoth I: “O Life! do not shun Jem, he a pilgrim here hath come;” “Though a pilgrim, yet his life doth on a child’s face hang,” she said.
Prince Jem /p.
FRAGMENT
/p Lo! there the torrent, dashing ’gainst the rocks, doth wildly roll; The whole wide realm of Space and Being ruth hath on my soul. Through bitterness of grief and woe the morn hath rent its robe; See! O in dawning’s place, the sky weeps blood, without control! Tears shedding, o’er the mountain-tops the clouds of heaven pass; Hear, deep the bursting thunder sobs and moans through stress of dole.
Prince Jem.
GAZEL He who longs for ruby lip’s kiss may not calm of soul remain; He his head must yield who hopes the dusky locks’ sweet scent to gain. Still in heart abides not longing’s flame when one her ward beholds; Him who seeks her face contents not even Heaven’s flowery plain. Yonder sugar-lip’s surrounded by her cheek’s down;—where art thou, O thou seeker of the rose’s company without thorn’s pain? Wouldest thou delight? Then plunge thou deep beneath Love’s ocean surge: He who would for regal pearls dive, surely should know well the main. Though the loved one mocks at Ahmed’s faults and failings, what of that? He who seeks a friend that’s blameless must without a friend remain.
Ahmed Pasha.
FROM THE WINTER QASIDA Locust-like down from the sky the snowflakes wing their way; From the green-plumaged bird, Delight, O heart! hope not for lay. Like drunken camels, spatter now the clouds earth’s winding sheet; Laded the caravan of mirth and glee, and passed away. With lighted lamps in daytime seek the people for the sun; Yet scarce, with trouble, a dim, fitful spark discover they. . . . . . . . . . . The Moon in Sign of Bounteousness! the Shade of Allah’s grace! The King, star-armied! he in aspect fair as Hermes’ ray— The Khan Muhammed! at the portal of whose sphere of might To wait as servants would Darius and Key-Khusrev pray! E’en should the sun till the Last Day it measure with gold beam, Nor shore nor depth could e’er it find to th’ ocean of his sway!
Nejati.
FROM THE SPRING QASIDA The early springtide now hath made earth smiling bright again, E’en as doth union with his mistress soothe the lover’s pain. They say: “’Tis now the goblet’s turn, the time of mirth ’tis now;” Beware that to the winds thou castest not this hour in vain. Theriaca within their ruby pots the tulips lay: See in the mead the running streamlet’s glistening, snake-like train. Onward, beneath some cypress-tree’s loved foot its face to rub, With turn and turn, and singing sweet, the brook goes through the plain. Lord! may this happy union of felicity and earth, Like turn of sun of Love, or Jesu’s life, standfast remain! May glee and mirth, e’en as desired, continuous abide, Like to a mighty Key-Khusrev’s, or Jemshid’s, glorious reign! . . . . . . . . . . Sultan Muhammed! Murad’s son! the Pride of Princes all; He, the Darius, who to all earth’s Kings doth crowns ordain! Monarch of stars! whose flag’s the sun, whose stirrup is the moon! Prince dread as Doom, and strong as Fate, and bounteous as main!
Nejati.
FROM THE QASIDA ON THE ACCESSION OF SULTAN BAYEZID II One eve, when had the Sun before her radiant beauty bright Let down the veil o
f ambergris, the musky locks of night; (Off had the royal hawk, the Sun, flown from the Orient’s hand, And lighted in the West; flocked after him the crows in flight;) To catch the gloomy raven, Night, the fowler skilled, the Sphere, Had shaped the new-moon like the claw of eagle, sharp to smite; In pity at the doleful sight of sunset’s crimson blood, Its veil across the heaven’s eye had drawn the dusky Night. . . . . . . . . . . Sultan of Rome! Khusrev of the Horizons! B?yez?d! King of the Epoch! Sovereign! and Centre of all Right! The tablet of his heart doth all th’ affairs of earth disclose; And eloquent as page of book the words he doth indite. O Sh?h! I’m he who, ’midst th’ assembly where thy praise is sung, Will, rebec-like, a thousand notes upon one cord recite. ’Tis meet perfection through thy name to my poor words should come, As to rose-water perfume sweet is brought by sunbeam’s light.
Nej?t?.
GAZEL Truth this: a lasting home hath yielded ne’er earth’s spreading plain; Scarce e’en an inn where may the caravan for rest remain. Though every leaf of every tree is verily a book, For those who understanding lack doth earth no leaf contain. E’en though the Loved One be from thee as far as East from West, “Bagdad to lovers is not far,” O heart, then strive and strain. One moment opened were her ebriate, strife-causing eyne. By us as scimitars, not merely daggers, were they ta’en. Yearneth Nej?t? for the court of thy fair Paradise, Though this a wish which he while here on earth can ne’er attain.
Nej?t?.
RUB?’?S O Handkerchief! I send thee—off to yonder maid of grace; Around thee I my eyelashes will make the fringe of lace; I will the black point of my eye rub up to paint therewith; To yon coquettish beauty go—go look thou in her face.
O Handkerchief! the loved one’s hand take, kiss her lip so sweet, Her chin, which mocks at apple and at orange, kissing greet; If sudden any dust should light upon her blessÈd heart, Fall down before her, kiss her sandal’s sole, beneath her feet.
A sample of my tears of blood thou, Handkerchief, wilt show, Through these within a moment would a thousand crimson grow; Thou’lt be in company with her, while I am sad with grief; To me no longer life may be, if things continue so.
Nej?t?.
FROM THE SPRING QAS?DA Up from indolent sleep the eyes of the flowers to awake, Over their faces each dawn the cloudlets of spring water shake. Denizens all of the mead now with new life are so filled, That were its foot not secured, into dancing the cypress would break. Roses’ fair cheeks to describe, all of their beauty to tell, Lines on the clear river’s page rain-drops and light ripples make. Silvery rings, thou would’st say, they hung in the bright water’s ear, When the fresh rain-drops of spring fall on the stretch of the lake. Since the ring-dove, who aloft sits on the cypress, its praise Sings, were it strange if he be sad and love-sick for its sake? . . . . . . . . . . Prince of the Climate of Speech, noble Nish?nji Pasha, To the mark of whose kindness the shaft of thought can its way never make. When poets into their hands the chaplet, thy verses, have ta’en, “I pardon implore of the Lord” for litany ever they take.
Mes?h?.
MUREBBA’ Hark the bulbul’s lay so joyous: “Now have come the days of spring.” Merry shows and crowds on every mead they spread, a maze of spring; There the almond-tree its silvern blossoms scatters, sprays of spring: Drink, be gay, for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring.
Once again with varied flow’rets decked themselves have mead and plain; Tents for pleasure have the blossoms raised in every rosy lane. Who can tell, when spring hath ended, who and what may whole remain? Drink, be gay, for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring.
All the alleys of the parterre filled with Ahmed’s Light appear, Verdant herbs his Comrades, tulips like his Family bright appear; O ye People of Muhammed! times now of delight appear: Drink, be gay, for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring.
Sparkling dew-drops stud the lily’s leaf like sabre broad and keen; Bent on merry gypsy-party, crowd they all the flow’ry green; List to me, if thou desirest, these beholding, joy to glean: Drink, be gay, for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring.
Rose and tulip, like to lovely maidens’ cheeks, all beauteous show, While the dew-drops, like the jewels in their ears, resplendent glow; Do not think, thyself beguiling, things will aye continue so: Drink, be gay, for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring.
Rose, anemone, and tulip—these, the garden’s fairest flowers— ’Midst the parterre is their blood shed ’neath the lightning-darts and showers. Art thou wise?—then with thy comrades dear enjoy the fleeting hours: Drink, be gay, for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring.
Past the moments when with sickness were the ailing herbs opprest, When the garden’s care, the rose-bud, hid its sad head in its breast; Come is now the time when hill and rock with tulips dense are drest: Drink, be gay, for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring.
While each dawn the clouds are shedding jewels
thine!”
To earth within her ward my tears in torrents rolled apace; The accents of her ruby lips my soul crazed by their grace; My heart was taken in the snare her musky locks did trace, That very moment when my eyes fell on her curls and face. “Doth Scorpio the bright Moon’s House contain?” I said; said she: “Fear! threatening this Conjunction dread, thy part; aye, truly thine!”
Her hair with ambergris perfumed was waving o’er her cheek, On many grieving, passioned souls it cruel woe did wreak; Her graceful form and many charms my wildered heart made weak; The eye beheld her figure fair, then heart and soul did seek. “Ah! what bright thing this cypress of the plain?” I said; said she: “Tis that which thy fixed gaze beholds apart; aye, truly thine!”
When their veil her tulip and dog-rose had let down yesterday, The morning breeze tore off that screen which o’er these flow’rets lay; Came forth that Envy of the sun in garden fair to stray, Like lustrous pearls the dew-drops shone, a bright and glistening spray. “Pearls, say, are these, aye pearls from ‘Aden’s main?” I said; said she: “Tears, these, of poor Fuz?l?, sad of heart; aye, truly thine!”
Fuz?l?.
MUKHAMMES Attar within vase of crystal, such thy fair form silken-gowned; And thy breast is gleaming water, where the bubbles clear abound; Thou so bright none who may gaze upon thee on the earth is found; Bold wert thou to cast the veil off, standing forth with garland crowned: Not a doubt but woe and ruin all the wide world must confound!
Lures the heart thy gilded palace, points it to thy lips the way; Eagerly the ear doth listen for the words thy rubies say; Near thy hair the comb remaineth, I despairing far away; Bites the comb, each curling ringlet, when it through thy locks doth stray: Jealous at its sight, my heart’s thread agonized goes curling round.
Ah! her face the rose, her shift rose-hued, her trousers red their shade; With its flame burns us the fiery garb in which thou art arrayed. Ne’er was born of Adam’s children one like thee, O cruel maid! Moon and Sun, in beauty’s circle, at thy fairness stand dismayed: Seems it thou the Sun for mother and the Moon for sire hast owned.
Captive bound in thy red fillet, grieve I through thy musky hair; Prone I ’neath those golden anklets which thy silvern limbs do wear; Think not I am like thy fillet, empty of thy grace, O fair! Rather to the golden chain, which hangs thy cheek round, me compare: In my sad heart pangs a thousand from thy glance’s shafts are found.
Eyes with antimony darkened, hands with hinna crimson dyed; Through these beauties vain and wanton like to thee was ne’er a bride. Bows of poplar green, thy painted brows; thy glances shafts provide. Poor Fuz?l? for thine eyes and eyebrows aye hath longing cried: That the bird from bow and arrow flees not, well may all astound.
Fuz?l?.
FROM LEYL? AND MEJN?N Yield not the soul to pang of Love, for Love’s the soul’s fierce glow; That Love’s the torment of the soul doth all the wide world know. Seek not for gain from fancy wild of pang of Love at all; For all that comes from fancy wild of Love’s pang is grief’s throe. Each curving eyebrow is a blood-stained sabre thee to slay; Each dusky curl, a deadly venomed snake to work thee woe. Lovely, indeed, the forms of moon-like maidens are to see— Lovely to see, but ah! the end doth bitter anguish show. From this I know full well that torment dire in love abides, That all who lovers are, engrossed with sighs, rove to and fro. Call not to mind the pupils of the black-eyed damsels bright, With thought, “I’m man”; be not deceived, ’tis blood they drink, I trow. E’en if Fuz?l? should declare, “In fair ones there is troth,” Be not deceived—“A poet’s words are falsehoods all men know.”
Fuz?l?.
MEJN?N ADDRESSES NEVFIL Quoth Mejn?n: “O sole friend of true plight! With counsel many have tried me to guide right; Many with wisdom gifted have advice shown, But yet this fiend hath been by no one o’erthrown; Much gold has on the earth been strewn round, But yet this Stone of Alchemist by none’s found. Collyrium I know that doth increase light, What use though is it if the eye doth lack sight? I know that greatest kindliness in thee lies, What use, though, when my fate doth ever dark rise? Upon my gloomy fortune I no faith lay, Impossible my hope appeareth alway. Ah! though in this thou shouldest ever hard toil, The end at length will surely all thy plans foil. No kindliness to me my closest friends show; Who is a friend to him whom he doth deem foe? I know my fortune evil is and woe-fraught; The search for solace is to me, save pain, naught. There is a gazel that doth well my lot show, Which constant I repeat where’er my steps go.”
Fuz?l?.
MEJN?N’S GAZEL From whomsoever I’ve sought for troth but bitterest disdain I’ve seen; Whome’er within this faithless world I’ve trusted, all most vain I’ve seen. To whomsoe’er I’ve told my woes, in hope to find some balm therefor, Than e’en myself o’erwhelmed and sunk in deeper, sadder pain I’ve seen. From out mine aching heart no one hath driven cruel grief away, GAZEL Ta’en my sense and soul have those thy Leyli locks, thy glance’s spell, Me, their Mejnun, ’midst of love’s wild dreary desert they impel. Since mine eyes have seen the beauty of the Joseph of thy grace, Sense and heart have fall’n and lingered in thy chin’s sweet dimple-well. Heart and soul of mine are broken through my passion for thy lips; From the hand of patience struck they honor’s glass, to earth it fell. The mirage, thy lips, O sweetheart, that doth like to water show; For, through longing, making thirsty, vainly they my life dispel. Since Selimi hath the pearls, thy teeth, been praising, sense and heart Have his head and soul abandoned, plunging ’neath love’s ocean-swell.
Selimi.
GAZEL Thy veil raise, shake from cheeks those locks of thine then; Unclouded beauty’s sun and moon bid shine then. But one glance from those soft and drooping eyes throw, The heart through joy to drunkenness consign then. Were I thy lip to suck, ’twould heal the sick heart; Be kind, an answer give, Physician mine, then. Beware lest evil glance thy beauty’s rose smite, From ill-eyed rival careful it confine then. O heart, this is Life’s Water ’midst of darkness, In night’s gloom hidden, drink the ruby wine then. My love’s down grows upon her rosy-hued cheek, A book write on the woes it doth enshrine then. Thy wine-hued lip, O love, grant to Selimi— And by thy parting’s shaft my tears make wine then. Selimi.
GAZEL The rival entry free hath to the loved one’s ward, but none have I; Regard unto the very dogs they there accord, but none have I. The heart doth seize the Magian’s hand; the cup-bearer, his glass; but I— For gentle love they grant to these their due reward, but none have I. To gain regard I would complain loud as the dogs within thy ward, For these have power their plight to show, their griefs record, but none have I. From all eternity have I to Mejnun taught the pang of love, How then do all the folk to him renown award, but none have I? To God be praise that brightly shines the mirror of my heart, Shemsi, For more or less earth’s glass with dust is soiled or marred, but none have I.
Shemsi Pacha.
FROM THE “KING AND BEGGAR”
r/> Thy talents and thy feats let it recall and weep in blood, Yea, let thy sabre from its sheath plunge in the darksome clay. Its collar, through its grief and anguish, let the reed-pen tear! And let the earth its vestment rend through sorrow and despair!
Thy sabre made the foe the anguish dire of wounds to drain; Their tongues are silenced, none who dares to gainsay doth remain. The youthful cypress, head-exalted, looked upon thy lance, And ne’er its lissom twigs their haughty airs displayed again. Where’er thy stately charger placed his hoof, from far and near Flocked nobles, all upon thy path their lives to offer fain. In desert of mortality the bird, desire, rests ne’er; Thy sword in cause of God did lives as sacrifice ordain. As sweeps a scimitar, across earth’s face on every side, Of iron-girded heroes of the world thou threw’st a chain. Thou took’st a thousand idol temples, turnÈdst all to mosques; Where jangled bells thou mad’st be sung the Call to Prayers’ strain. At length is struck the signal drum, and thou hast journeyed hence; Lo! thy first resting-place is Eden’s flowery, verdant plain. Praise is to God! for he in the Two Worlds hath blessÈd thee, And caused thy glorious name, Hero and Martyr both to be.
B?q?, the beauty of the King, the heart’s delight, behold! The mirror of the work of God, the Lord of Right, behold! The dear old man hath passed away from th’ Egypt sad, the world; The youthful Prince, alert and fair as Joseph bright, behold! The Sun hath risen, and the Dawning gray hath touched its bourne; The lovely face of yon Khusrev, whose soul is light, behold! This chase now to the grave hath sent the Behr?m of the Age; Go, at his threshold serve, King Erdesh?r aright, behold! The blast of Fate to all the winds hath blown Suleym?n’s throne; Sultan Sel?m Kh?n on Iskender’s couch of might, behold! The Tiger of the mount of war to rest in sleep hath gone; The Lion who doth now keep watch on glory’s height, behold! The Peacock fair of Eden’s mead hath soared to Heaven’s parterre; The lustre of the huma of high, happy flight, behold! Eternal may the glory of the heaven-high Khusrev dwell! Blessings be on the Monarch’s soul and spirit—and farewell!
B?q?.
GAZEL Cruel tyranny we love not, nay, to justice we incline; Full contentedly our eyes wait for the blest command divine. Know we truly, for a mirror, world-reflecting, is our heart; Yet conceive not us to Fortune’s ever-changeful ways supine. To the rule of God submissive, all concern we cast aside; We indeed on him confiding, on his providence recline. Shall our heart anoint its eye then with the kuhl of Isfah?n? Pleased it with this t?ty?: dust that doth the Fair One’s pathway line. Since our heart, ‘Adl?, within Love’s crucible was purified, ’Midst the universe, from guile and guilt free, bright our soul doth shine.
‘Adl?.
GAZEL Oh that a fragrant breath might reach the soul from early spring! Oh that with warbling sweet of birds the groves once more might ring! Oh that in melody the songs anew might rose-like swell! That fresh in grace and voice the nightingale be heard to sing! Oh that the New Year’s Day were come, when, minding times gone by, Should each and all from Time and Fate demand their reckoning! In short, O Bakht?, would the early vernal days were here, Then, ’midst the mead, ne’er should we part from brink of limpid spring. Bakht?.
GAZEL Soon as I beheld thee, mazed and wildered grew my sad heart; How shall I my love disclose to thee who tyrant dread art? How shall I hold straight upon my road, when yonder Torment Smitten hath my breast with deadly wounds by her eyelash dart? Face, a rose; and mouth, a rosebud; form, a slender sapling— How shall I not be the slave of Princess such as thou art? Ne’er hath heart a beauty seen like her of graceful figure; Joyous would I for yon charmer’s eyebrow with my life part. F?ris?, what can I do but love that peerless beauty? Ah! this aged Sphere hath made me lover of yon sweetheart.
F?ris?.
MUSEDDES Ah! that once again my heart with blood is filled, like beaker, high; At the feast of parting from my love I fell, and prostrate lie; O’er this wildered heart the gloom of frenzy, conquering, doth fly; In the valley of distraction ne’er a guide can I descry. Heedless mistress! loveless Fortune! ever-shifting, restless sky! Sorrows many! friends not any! strong-starred foeman! feeble I!
In the land of exile loomed dark on one side the night of woe, Nowhere o’er me did the lustrous moon of beauty’s heaven glow; Yonder glared the Two Infortunes, sank my helping planet low; Here did fortune, there did gladness, parting from me, distant go. Heedless mistress! loveless Fortune! ever-shifting, restless sky! Sorrows many! friends not any! strong-starred foeman! feeble I!
Strange is’t if the nightingale, my heart, in thousand notes doth wail? Fate to part it from the rosebud, the belovÈd, did prevail; Whilst I’m on the thorn of anguish, rivals with my love regale: Why recite my woes, O comrades? space were none to tell their tale! Heedless mistress! loveless Fortune! ever-shifting, restless sky! Sorrows many! friends not any! strong-starred foeman! feeble I!
EGAZEL If the fair one would but come in her lover’s home to stay, Were his eyes not filled with light by her face as bright as day? Or would yonder Moon but dart that her glance as dagger keen, And my rival’s bosom pierce that, like flute, he breathe dismay! Fly not this poor one, Moon-face, who hath drunken deep of woe; Order not that I be burned in the fire of love, I pray. If the Grace of God the Lord to a slave should aider be, Though he lack a single groat he’ll the Sphere as monarch sway. Rush the tear drops from my eyes through their longing for thy face; By its power thy sun-like face doth the dew-drops steal away. By the Mystic Pathway’s side, if thou’rt wise, a hostel build, For the travellers of Love, as a caravanserai. Proud and noble mistress mine, with those eyebrows and those eyes, Where a need of bow and shaft this thy lover fond to slay? Thou hast loosed thy tresses dark, o’er thy day-face spread a veil— Or in House of Scorpio is the Moon eclipsÈd, say? Should my loved one pierce my breast, right contented sooth were I; Only worthy of her grace let that Moon-face me survey. Write, O pen, that I desire, like the salamander, fire; Thus declare, should she it will, yonder lovely Queen Humay. Is it then the shining moon that the world doth silver o’er, Or the radiance of thy face that doth earth in light array? Did the caviller dispute and thy sun-bright face decry, Would thy lover, like the mote, to that fool the truth convey. Lovers surely for their loves do their talents aye employ; Is it thine thy tribute now to present, Shahin Giray?
Shahin Giray.
THE SONG OF LOVE’S NURSE O moon! sleep, sleep thou, for this night The cry “O Lord!” upon thine ear shall smite; Though formed, its purpose is yet hid from sight, It shall be seen—the stars’ potential might. Thou’lt be the roast upon the spit of pain!
O Rosebud! sleep thou, then, this little while; The Sphere’s design against thee sooth is vile, For pitiless is it and strong in guile; Ah! never trust it, even though it smile. Thou’lt have, I fear me, reason oft to plain!
O Love’s Narcissus! sleep the sleep of peace! Fall at the skirt of Fate and beg surcease; Thy soul’s eye ope—and, lo! thy fears increase! Guard thee against the end of woe, nor cease. Thou’lt be as plaything by Misfortune ta’en!
Come, in the cradle of repose thee rest A few short nights, by sorrow undistrest; Bid care and all it brings leave thee unprest; In place of milk, blood shall be thy bequest. Thou’lt need the goblet of despite to drain!
O Jasmine-breast! within the cradle lie; Thus will not long remain the rolling Sky: The stars do not aye in one circle hie; See what they’ll do to thee, Love, by and by. Thou’lt be the mill on sorrow’s torrent’s train!
From slumber do not thou thine eyelids keep, If aid can reach thee, it will come through sleep; The Sphere will give a draught of poison deep, Then will thy work, like Galib’s, be to weep. Thou’lt be the rebec at the feast of pain!
Galib.
LOVE’S SONG Sweet were those moments when the heart was gay, And the soul’s realm, the court of joy’s array; Thoughts of those times now o’er my spirit stray, For love of God! O Heavens! mercy! pray! The pride of both the day and night was I.
A garden fair was that my soul’s repose; Like those in Eden’s bower, its every rose; But parting comes and all of that o’erthrows, Now in my heart naught but its mem’ry glows. With honor’s wine then drunken quite was I.
Then to the Sphere I never uttered prayer; Feast, music, and delight—all mine—were there; Moved ever by my side my Cypress fair; Unopened then my secret and despair. The envy of the springtide bright was I.
Now before grief and woe I’m fallen prone; Like nightingale in early spring, I moan. Through fire I’ve past and to the shore have flown, And, like the shattered glass, to earth am thrown. Sipping the wine, the fair’s despite, was I.
Ah me! alas! those happy hours are past; The spring is past; the rose, the flowers, are past; The smiles of her who graced the bowers are past; The thirsty soul remains, the showers are past. Drinking with her the wine so bright was I.
I with my loved one feast and banquet made, Wild as the whirlpool then I romped and played; At wine-feasts I myself in light arrayed, And with my songs the nightingales dismayed. Like Galib, blest with all delight was I.
Galib.
GAZEL The mem’ry of his glance hid in my breast deep laid I found; It seemed as though a fawn within the lion’s glade I found. O heart! a parallel unto those eyebrows and that glance, In Rustem’s deadly bow and Qahraman’s bright blade I found. When, through my grieving at thine absence, dead of woe was I, That mem’ry of thy rubies’ kiss new life conveyed I found. My heart’s wound, through the beauty of the spring of love for thee, By turns, rose, tulip, Judas-tree of crimson shade, I found. Is’t strange, O Fitnet, if my soul around do scatter gems? Within the ink-horn’s vault a hidden treasure laid I found. Fitnet Khanim.
MUSEDDES The fresh spring clouds across all earth their glistening pearls profuse now sow; The flowers, too, all appearing, forth the radiance of their beauty show. Of mirth and joy ’tis now the time, the hour to wander to and fro; The palm-tree o’er the fair ones’ picnic gay its grateful shade doth throw. O Liege, come forth! from end to end with verdure doth the whole earth glow; ’Tis springtide now again, once more the tulips and the roses blow.
Behold the roses, how they shine, e’en like the cheeks of maids most fair; The fresh-sprung hyacinth shows like to beauties’ dark, sweet, musky hair. The loved one’s form behold, like cypress which the streamlet’s bank doth bear; In sooth, each side for soul and heart doth some delightful joy prepare. O Liege, come forth! from end to end with verdure doth the whole earth glow; ’Tis springtide now again, once more the tulips and the roses blow.
The parterre’s flowers have all bloomed forth, the roses, sweetly smiling, shine; On every side lorn nightingales, in plaintive notes discoursing, pine; How fair, carnation and wallflower the borders of the garden line! The long-haired hyacinth and jasmine both around the cyprÈss twine. O Liege, come forth! from end to end with verdure doth the whole earth glow; ’Tis springtide now again, once more the tulips and the roses blow.
Arise, my Prince! the garden’s court hath wondrous joys in fair array; Oh, hark, there midst the rose’s boughs, the wailing nightingale’s fond lay Thy bright cheek show the new-oped rose and make it blush with shamed dismay; With graceful air come then, thy cypress mien before the mead display. O Liege, come forth! from end to end with verdure doth the whole earth glow; ’Tis springtide now again, once more the tulips and the roses blow.
Enow! thy lovers pain no more, of faithful plight the days are now; On streamlet’s banks, of mirth and joy and gay delight the days are now; In hand then take the heart’s dear joy, the goblet bright, its days are now; O Fitnet, come, and these thy verses sweet recite, their days are now. O Liege, come forth! from end to end with verdure doth the whole earth glow; ’Tis springtide now again, once more the tulips and the roses blow.
Fitnet Khanim.
GAZEL Ah! through grief for thee mine eyes blood, every night and day, weep; Those who know my bitter sorrow’s secret pang for aye weep. When they see me blood-besmeared by my bosom’s red wound, Pitying my doleful plight, the garden’s flowerets gay weep. When he viewed my bleeding heart, ruth had yon physician; Quoth he: “Doth the cure for thee, Sick of love-dismay, weep.” Yet to me doth yonder Torment of the Soul no grace show; For my plight do all my friends, who me thus sick survey, weep. E’en as gazeth on thy cheek, amidst his woes, Ilhami, Though his face may smiling be, his heart doth blood alway weep.
Ilhami.
GAZEL Midst the orchard of the world though empire may appear delight, Still, if thou wouldst view it closely, empire is but ceaseless fight. Vain let no one be who ruleth kingdoms in these woful days; If in justice lie thy pleasure—then is empire truly right. Reacheth e’en one lover union in the space of thousand years? Let whoever sees it envy—empire is of faithless plight. Think, O heart, alas! the revolutions of the rolling Sphere! If at times ’tis joy, far oftener empire bringeth dire affright. Do not envy, do not covet, then, the Kingship of the world; Oh! take heed, Ilhami, empire bides not, swift indeed its flight.
Ilhami.
GAZEL The trees and flowers their turbans roll of black and white and red; The garden fastens on its stole of black and white and red. With sable eve and ermine dawn and fez of sunset bright, The sky doth all its pomp unroll of black and white and red. The pupils of my eyes are points upon the gleaming page, With tears of blood I’ve writ a scroll of black and white and red. The youthful Magian’s locks and breast were shadowed in the wine; It seemed as though they filled the bowl with black and white and red. Is’t ambergris, or is it pearl, or coral, Fazil, say, This poesy thy reed doth troll, of black and white and red? Fazil Beg.
DESCRIPTION OF CIRCASSIAN WOMEN Ah! her cheek doth rob the fair sun of its sight, And her sweet grace envy brings to Venus bright. Like to moons are the Circassian damsels fair; Whatso’er the lover seeks he findeth there. Like to tall palm-trees their slender forms in grace, Or a ladder to the clear moon of the face. With the two feet of the eyes doth one ascend, But the vision of the mind too one must bend. Since their lips and cheeks are taverns of wine, Is it strange their eyes inebriate should shine? Since like rubies are created their two lips, Doubly seared the lover’s heart, like the tulip’s. Since their bodies are distilled from moon and sun, How an equal to their pure frame find can one? Though they lovelier than Georgians may be, Still in Georgians one will great attractions see. Closely curtained sit they all in virtue’s place; Pure of skirt is ever this unrivalled race; Pure and free from stain is every act of theirs; Not a soil the vestment of their honor bears; Marked with chastity indeed, of noble heart, Ever seeking to fulfil the righteous part; Bright with bounty and fidelity and sense, How that blessÈd nature glows with light intense! Think not with this race that any can compare Upon earth, unless it be the Georgian fair.
Fazil Beg.
DESCRIPTION OF GREEK WOMEN
’Tis need all pleasure to enjoy as far as in thee lies; Alike is he who lives in joy and he whom trouble tries; If thou be prudent, ne’er thine opportunities despise. “Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey; Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”
Since first the banquet fair, this world, was cast in form’s designs, How many rakes have passed away! how many libertines! As counsel meet for revellers, when he perceived those signs, Around the goblet’s rim the Magian priest engraved these lines: “Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey; Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”
At length, Ziya, shall joy beam forth, and grief an end shall find; But yet, O man, these ever enter Fortune’s feast combined. This hidden mystery learn thou, by Mahm?d Beg defined, Who has the secret of the same within this verse enshrined: “Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey; Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”
Ziy? Beg.
THE COUNSELS OF NABI EFENDI TO HIS SON ABOUL KHAIR [Translated by A. P. de Courteille and Robert Arnot] INTRODUCTION NABI Yousouf Efendi was born at Roha, about the year 1632, during the reign of Mourad IV. Coming to Constantinople in the time of Mahomet IV, he there attached himself to the all-powerful favorite Mustafa Pacha, who made him his secretary. In 1684, his protector having been made Serasker, he accompanied him to MorÉe. From there, he undertook the pilgrimage to Mecca and to Medina, and finally settled at Halep. It was during his stay in this city, about the year 1694, that he wrote, as he himself says, the poem dedicated to his son Aboul Khair. Some years after, Baltadji Mohammed Pacha, who was much attached to Nabi, recalled him to Constantinople, and appointed him president of the State treasury of Anatolia. He exchanged this position, however, for that of comptroller of the cavalry, in which he remained until his death, which occurred the twelfth of April, 1712. Nabi is one of the Turkish classic authors; he occupies in Ottoman literature an exalted position, not only as a poet, but also as a prose writer. Under the title of Zeili Nabi, he wrote in the purest and most stately style an appendix to the “Life of Mahomet,” by WeÏsi; this work was printed in Cairo in 1248. The imperial library has a copy of the complete works of Nabi. The manuscript is well written, but is filled with clerical errors. Beside the poems, it contains the letters of Nabi and his treatise on Mecca and Medina. The divan of our author is of considerable length; therein are found kassidÈs, chronograms, gazels, and two poems written for his son: the “Khai-riyÈ” and the “Khair-abÂd.” This divan was written at Cairo in 1257. The manuscript which has been used to verify the text was obtained from a learned teacher named Chinaci Efendi. The translator has also referred, although with reserve, to the manuscript of the Imperial Library. The Cairo edition has not been very useful; it includes many readings, which are doubtful at best, and which have not been thought sufficiently important to note. Those who have translated oriental poems know how difficult it is to remain exact without becoming unintelligible. The translator has endeavored to condense the text as much as possible, and has only departed from it insomuch as was necessary in order to make it intelligible. There is an obscure vagueness in Turkish poetry which passes for a kind of beauty in oriental eyes. The reader’s imagination loves to wander among these brilliant clouds; but the translator, forced to express himself clearly and openly, suffers much from this element of uncertainty. The translator’s aim has been, above all, to provide for persons who are studying the Turkish language a work of a simple and elegant classic style and of moderate price, which will be a preparation for the reading of more difficult writings. THE COUNSELS OF NABI EFENDI CHAPTER I ALL praise to the Most High God, Creator of all that exists; who with his all-powerful pen has traced the characters of the world. Benign Lord, whose mercy is stretched forth over all men, whose benevolent hand has graven the image of existence on the tablet of the vow, from that void which, like a funeral mound, opened and disclosed its secrets. The Lord weighed in the balance of destiny chaos and existence; the aspect of existence became brilliant, and its forms were reflected in the mirror of chaos, whose burning gulf disappeared, and the veil which concealed the world was raised. Land was extended like a mantle over the world, and above was curved the celestial dome. The four elements and heaven became as a festal cup adorned with four roses. The Lord, uniting the two sexes, lit between them the torch of love. Then appeared the three reigns of nature: the mineral, the vegetable, and the animal. The inexhaustible munificence of the Almighty continued; next came the creation of man. God placed him above all living beings; formed from the slime of the earth, he was the noblest, the most perfect of all creatures. Although he had been moulded of earth and mud, the angels were ordered to bow down before him; the ladder of the divine decisions having been placed, man ascended to the first place in creation. In all things there are different degrees, distinctions, and divisions, everything has different properties; nature has diversified all things, all men form quite distinct classes, and from these distinctions issues perfect order. Without them, the edifice of creation would be demolished; but how can the ignorant understand the mysteries therein? Water cannot have all the properties of fire; earth cannot produce the effects of wind. Gold is impotent to replace iron; sugar will never have the flavor of salt. The foot does not play the same role as the hand; the lancet does not serve the purposes of the sword. Hearing cannot take the place of sight; the shoulder cannot reflect as does the mind. The jeweller does not know the weaver’s art, nor does the carpenter understand the labors of the shoemaker. Nations understand nothing of the actions of those who govern them, and kings, in their turn, know not all that concerns their subjects. Warmth never produces the effect of cold; dryness and humidity are incompatible. Shade does not undergo the action of the sun, and the goblet is insensible to the transports agitating Djemschid. Therefore understand this truth: thy nature is but formed of incongruous elements. Everywhere glaring contrasts are perceived in all objects. The wisdom and the might of God have no bounds, it is a spectacle without end. All the parts of creation are thus arranged: raise thy mind’s eye as high as it can reach. In this world and in the next, in the form of facts as in their reality, on all sides are encountered different degrees. In the spiritual order there are also many distinctions, like a sea with innumerable waves. He who has penetrated the farthest in the mysteries of creation has said that society is only founded on the distinction of classes. The friends of God are high-placed, but higher still are those whom he has created prophets. It may be said that the prophets are in the place of honor on the light-giving throne as a brilliant star which irradiates its marvellous splendor to far distant worlds. But above all, and in the most exalted place, sits the king of creation, he for whom all was created, pre-eminently the elect of God, the precious pearl of the ocean of divine generosity, the luscious fruit of the garden of creation, he who opened the gate of the treasure of light, he for whom was limned the picture of this world, he of whom it is written in the beginning of the book of fates, he in whom was all accomplished, the principle of the operations of divine mercy, the last end of the omnipotence of the Lord, he who includes in himself the form and essence of all things, the dazzling light of the torch of immutable destiny, the ornament of existence’s throne, the guardian of the treasures of altitude and depth, and the seal of the mystery of the two worlds. He it is who hath approached to God as near as two arcs, or even nearer, to whom all has been revealed; who, mounted proudly on the mighty Boraq, traversed the ethereal regions; the universal ruler throwing radiance over the domain of sovereign authority; the luminous eastern star of science, the all-excelling master of the apostolate of nations, on whom descended the glorious revelation, the most beautiful among the children of men, the most perfect of beings, the most noble of all creatures, the fountain of the graces shed on mankind, the soul of the world, the centre of creation, the illustrious and glorious Mahomet, in whom the Lord delights, the origin of all bearers of that venerable name, the most perfect of all in all degrees. The word which proclaims him the first work come forth from the hands of God has shed universal joy. His person is the seal of glory and greatness; he is the centre of all purity, the arbiter of celestial revolutions; in him is the consummation of all perfection. As a seed concealed in the depths of the invisible earth, he appeared loaded with fruit. If you trace the rounded figure of a mim you will form Ahmed from the word Ahad, and if you ask where is the first letter of the Prophet’s name, you will find it in the second part of the word Mahomet. The Lord has raised him above all; he has overwhelmed him with graces and blessings. Benedictions upon him, on his family and his friends till the day of resurrection! CHAPTER II Details of the Father’s Station in Life Aboul Khair Mohammed TchÉlebi, thou who art the ornament of Halep, part of my being, substance of my life, first fruit of the garden of my happiness, thou art the luminous ray of my life, thou art the essence of the blessings which make me prosper. The Lord in his bounty has given thee to Nabi, O Joseph of thy father! O noble son! thou art indeed the living proof of the truth that the son is the joy of the father. Thou art, O light of mine eyes, the ornament of the garden-plot of paternal existence. Since thou hast become a shade for my head I see thee alone in this world. Thou who art endowed with all the graces, I have received thee from the hand of the Almighty in my declining days. When thou didst appear on the horizon of the world as a moon of beauty, I had already passed my tenth lustre. Thou wert given to me when I was fifty-four, and it is in thy eighth year that this book is written. My place of nativity is the charming city of Edessa; but I was dwelling in Halep when I wrote this work. Edessa! type of the eternal flower-garden, native soil of the well-beloved of God, object of the emulation of all Syria, scene of the marvellous deliverance of Abraham! I sojourned thirty years at Adrianople and at Constantinople. Thanks to God! I, a poor slave, have been honored with many dignities. Having no longer taste for business, I enjoyed the repose given by retreat. The water and the excellence of the climate determined me to select Halep as an abiding place. CHAPTER III Of the Motives which Decided the Author to Write the Book of Counsels Light of my hopes, gift bestowed on me by the omnipotent and glorious God! God be praised, thou art of a noble family; thy ancestors have all distinguished themselves in science. Although their worth is not sufficiently esteemed, learned men all occupy an elevated position. But of what use is the worth of thy father and of thy ancestors, if thou dost not raise thyself by thy talent? Thy origin is pure, O creature of God! He who is well born ought not to fall! All that nature has given me of worth is found complete in thyself. Thou hast many noble and good qualities which nothing, by the grace of God, can mar. Thy good nature sheds afar its perfume, thou dost manifest the traces of innate morality. The grace of God will come to thy aid, and thy natural capacities will easily surmount all difficulties. God protect thee and prosper thee! mayst thou long sojourn in this transitory world! But in order that paternal advice may make a profound impression upon children, and that you may cherish it as a precious jewel and make it the subject of your meditations, after having practised my mind and grasped the pen of art, and having brought forth from my heart’s mine pearls worthy to wreathe a poetic garland, I wrote in verse a book of morals which may perhaps charm the intelligent. I have adorned it with the ornaments of poetry, and I have entitled it “The Good Book.” Reverently press it to thy heart, and look upon it as a guardian amulet. Each day, O soul of thy father, hearken to the words of this jewel. Engrave them with care on thy mind, and never separate from it a single instant. Let, until the day of the resurrection, its salutary influence be exerted on thee and on all others. As long as this table shall be prepared, may young people come to seat themselves here as thy guests. And thou, as much as thou shalt relish the joy of these riches, bless the name of thy father and of thy mother. Rejoice me by the expression of thy gratitude; then remember me in thy prayers. CHAPTER IV Of the Ranks of Islam O cypress of the slender form gracefully swaying in the garden of creation, learn from me what is the thing most necessary to man above all his temporal occupations. He should reflect on his end, he should embellish the edifice of his religion; the five columns on which this edifice rests are themselves based upon wisdom. It is within this enclosure that peace reigns; beyond, the shocks of adversity are to be feared. There extends a delightful garden; here opens the burning abyss of hell. There, also, are the sectarians of the straight and perfect road; here, those who are lost in error. Observe religiously the precept of prayer; acquit thyself, if thou canst, of the obligation of pilgrimage and of the tithe in alms. Show proofs of zeal and activity in the accomplishment of these duties; do not show a criminal tendency to exempt thyself from them. Be not rebellious to the orders of the Almighty; obey all his commandments. All the salutary practices taught by religion are for Mussulmen like a robe with many folds. Recite the five prayers, O pure youth, if thou didst but know what graces thou drawest down upon thyself! Each of these practices has a mysterious meaning; a long discourse would be required to detail their merits. The Lord, generous in his gifts, has made each of them the instrument of innumerable benefits. God has no need of thy works; ’tis thou alone who dost profit from thy wealth. O generous soul! thou alone wilt gather the fruit of thy good or evil actions. CHAPTER V Of the First Duty of True Religion Charming branch of the garden of morality, thou who rejoicest the heart and eye of thy father, confess candidly thy faith that all the mysteries of creation may be revealed to thee. Make thy heart the shrine of truth; light there the flaming torch of uprightness and sincerity. Fill thy mouth with the honey of the profession of the Mahometan faith. Let all thy words breathe submission to divine truths. The profession of faith is the seal of the salvation of believers, the ornament of the blissful gate of paradise. It is this profession which establishes a striking distinction between the shadow of impiety and the light of faith. On it rests the foundation of true power, and on it has risen the edifice of religion. It is the column of Islamism, the water which fills the ocean of divine decrees, the key to the straight path and that which opens the gate of that devotion agreeable unto God. It is, for the tongue which utters it, like a dish of exceeding sweet savor. It is its salutary virtue which vivifies those whose hearts are dead. CHAPTER VI Of the Excellence of Prayer O rose of the ever-blooming garden, thou, the support of thy aged father, at the prescribed time perform the ablutions and purify thyself of exterior pre-occupation! Clothe thyself as with a robe of innocence and light that thou mayst be worthy to sit among pure men. Prayer, for the faithful, is as a celestial ascension; open thine eyes to this divine rapture. Consider not prayer as an irksome task; it is an honor which God deigns to grant us. It is the support of religion; and the corner stone of the house of faith. Incline devoutly in thy adorations; be among the faithful who surround the mihrab. Drag thy countenance in the dust before the Lord; be a slave in thy heart; consider his majesty. Prayer said without devotion is valueless in the sight of God; each time that thou dost bow down send forth to him a thousand ardent sighs. Plunge thyself completely in these holy practices; let thy reason succumb to a mysterious intoxication. Far be it from thee to think of the delights of paradise or the torments of hell; love with all thy heart the sovereign Master of both. Yield not to sleep in the morning; be vigilant and assiduous in praying for the pardon of thy sins. What happiness for thee to cross thy hands on thy breast and weep in the presence of thy God! When thou dost bow down, strike the earth with thy forehead; behold the potentates of this earth, O my son! is it permitted to everyone to salute the steps of their thrones? The intelligent man, prostrated in the dust, does not raise his head; his eyes are not dazzled by a sudden brilliancy. Canst thou not be assiduous in the exercises of thy piety, if thou dost understand how precious they are to thee? I wish to disclose to thee a secret which is not permitted to be told to children. Apply thyself with all thy strength to understand it; thou wilt succeed in grasping its meaning. When thou dost pray while standing, is it not true, O youth beautiful as the full moon, that thou dost resemble an Élif But when thou art inclined, one might believe thou wert a dal: it is the enigma of the prophets, endeavor to understand it. If thou dost prostrate thyself the rounded form of a mim is seen, and then thou dost indeed merit the name of man. Forget not this truth which is revealed unto thee: he who neglects prayer is not a man. CHAPTER VII On the Excellence of Fasting O most delicious of the fruits of the paternal garden! precious pearl of the sea of life! dost thou wish to avoid the maladies which afflict the body? neglect not the fast of Ramazan. Fasting is a grace which the Lord grants to his servants; he does not leave it without recompense. Fasting is a table prepared by the divine mercy: he who practises it wears a robe of light. It demands mystery and retreat; hypocrisy should not come to profane it. Fasting is a mysterious emanation from eternity: it is a figure of spiritual royalty. The Prophet said, speaking with the breath of one who fasts, that it was more pleasing to God than the odor of musk! Fasting is the herald of the joys of paradise: to renounce these joys is to condemn one’s self to despair. Until the shades of night begin to appear, let the disk of the sun be as a seal over thy mouth. As long as the jewel of thy being shall shine, abstain until darkness delivers thee from the eyes of the curious. What happiness for thee to have closed lips: to be beyond all agitation, with closed mouth and quiet body, to polish the mirror of thine existence, to deliver thy nature from the trammels of matter, to make it beam with a radiance full of grace, to dissipate the shadows of thy soul’s sanctuary, to be resplendent as the moon of the Ramazan! CHAPTER VIII Of Pilgrimage, of Sacred Journeys, and of Mount Arafat O freshly blooming rose of the garden-plot of my soul, perfume that dost charm the nostrils of courtesy, undertake no other journey but that of Caaba. A useless journey is as disastrous as the fire of hell. Caaba is the noblest of all the temples and the central point of the universe. It is the seat of royalty; the ornament of the foot of the throne of the Divinity; the trunk of the tree of divine mercy; the threshold of religion and of felicity; the torch that burns in the shrine of mysterious truths and whose brilliancy attracts suppliants as the candle the butterfly. It is the mysterious reflection of the high heavens: the abode veiled in black of Leila; the place of the adoration of men and angels, where the celestial vault inclines in reverence. It is the site of the garden-plot of delights, all shining with an ineffable light. It is the station of the sacred mysteries; may God forever increase their significance! It is the throne of the rule of the Omnipotent and the threshold of the court of the All-Merciful. It is the centre of the earth around which the heavens accomplish their revolutions. It might be compared to a holy man, tall in stature; and the black gem to the buckle of his girdle. The black gem is the jewel of salvation kissed with awe by the friends of God. It is the first thing honored by the hand of the Creator; the more precious than amber, adorning the earth’s surface. The chief treasure of the secrets of the Divinity’s palace, the ornament of humanity’s domain, the dust at its portals is as a balm to the eyes; ’tis the abode of generosity and the happy home of purity. The life-giving water of the well of Zemzem is all prepared for the cleansing of our sins. The holy ground is the glory of the well of Zemzem, itself the glory of the world. Mercy escapes from its golden funnel in inexhaustible abundance, purifying our faults. The water of Zemzem is a pure remedy which restores health to those who languish in separation. When thou dost arrive to the limits of the sacred territory, then visit the two walls of the ihrÂm. The visiting of holy spots gives new life; each band of pilgrims participates in the divine mercy. Each breath which escapes these breasts burning with love is as a spirit messenger ascending to heaven. O felicity, O delight, O unspeakable honor, to revolve around God’s throne! Over this sacred place of processions, that it be not profaned, let thy forehead be as a tapestry! And thy heart, like a moth, should circle around this holy candle! Diligently visit the court of the Author of all good. L’ArifÈ is a figure of the gathering at resurrection and the solemn day of the counsel of the merciful Lord. There the crowds which cover Mount Arafat receive the certificate of the pardon of sins. There are purified those who were burdened with crime; there are freed the slaves of sin. These culprits form a dazzling ring whose setting is the column of divine mercy. All that was dark becomes white as snow; the record of evil deeds is thrown in the fire. Mina is a vast market where pardon is given in exchange for sins. The temple of Caaba is as the heart of the world, and its black gem is its inmost part. Exert thyself to penetrate the mystery of thy nature, formed of slime and water; on this question exhaust all thy faculties. If thou dost desire to discover its central point, imitate the compass that always turns in the same circle. CHAPTER IX Of the Excellence of Alms-Giving O precious pearl, worthiest heir of a noble family, give till the last para the alms prescribed by law: they will amass for thee a capital of salvation and blessings. Alms are due unto God: beware of negligence in paying him. Thou with whom the Lord has so generously shared, dost thou not hasten to purify thy wealth? Alms are the wealth of the poor; if thou dost retain them unjustly, thou wilt tarnish a legitimately acquired fortune. What thou dost give to obey the law of God, he will return to thee tenfold. If thou dost refuse, he will withdraw his benediction, and thy prosperity will vanish. Wealth not purified by alms is soon spent, and serves as a target for the blows of adversity. That blessed by this holy practice is as a seed which it pleases God to fructify. The grains dispersed here and there will grow and multiply, and thou wilt derive profit from them both in this world and in the next. He who created poverty and wealth made alms the share of the poor. By an impenetrable mystery of his omnipotence, he has assigned to thee ease and to another indigence. Retain not unjustly the rights of the poor; pay them as soon as they are due. Complete legal alms by voluntary ones, which are the branches which shoot forth from the trunk of the others. How many passages of the Sacred Book bear witness to the excellence of their merits! Without poverty riches would have no value, so has ordained he who has done all things. The poor are as the mirrors of the rich; thus the nature of each thing is revealed by contrasts. What couldst thou have accomplished against fate, hadst thou been poor and not rich? The sight of poverty provokes the rich to thankfulness; it gives them occasion to congratulate themselves for their prosperity. If there were no beggars in the roads of this perishable world, how couldst thou purify thy goods by alms? If the pauper refuses thee, thou hast reason to be sad; if he accepts, thou art his debtor. Is he not the instrument of thy joy and of thy prosperity? What do I say: he is one more benefit added to all those thou hast received from God. Know that it is the liberality of the Lord which sends the mendicant to the faithful, because the profit of alms is his who donates. Thank the Lord for the gifts he has bestowed upon thee; thy glory will become more brilliant. Look upon the poor with the eye of compassion; beware from speaking harshly to them. Be affable and mild to them. Pour forth thy riches upon those who suffer from hunger; it is their right. Let thy door be the rendezvous of the poor that thy bounty may equal thy power. Is it not better to come to the aid of the unfortunate, and assuage the pangs of the hungry, than to impose on thyself an added abstinence, and to defray the costs of repairing several mosques? There is more merit in giving water to one who thirsts than to visit Caaba annually. Glory and honor to him around whom press all those who suffer, and happy indeed is the wealth which serves to solace the misery of the poor. How worthy of envy is that powerful man who bestows bounty upon thousands of paupers! Is he not a river of blessings, whose liberality pours over all his brothers? Do not regard the poor with disdain, nor reproach them with the gifts thou hast made. May thy benevolence rejoice children, and thy caresses console their afflicted hearts! Blessed be the treasures destined by God for such glorious uses, that are as a saving ointment on the wounded hearts of defenceless orphans! Dry their tears with thy beneficent hand; may thy caresses make them forget the parents they have lost! When thou dost prosper in thy affairs, when Providence overwhelms thee with favors, put not thy foot in the way of ingratitude; fly from it with all the strength of thy soul! Gratitude is often only a vain word; let it be more in thy actions than in thy speech. Thank God from the bottom of thy heart; be generous to the poor. When thou seest the servants of God without bread and without garments, close not before them the door of liberality; repulse not those who extend to thee suppliant hands. Whoever be the guest who takes shelter beneath thy roof, spare nothing to spread before him the table of hospitality. Treat him according to his deserts; honor him according to his dignity. If he makes himself troublesome, have patience; perhaps a single word will win his heart to thee. Let not disappointment fill his eyes with tears; refuse him nothing, if it is possible. Dost not wish to deliver him from all anxiety and to second with thy efforts all his desires? If it is not in thy power to content him, at least let the mildness of thy refusal leave him without regrets. Calm his mind with goodly words; fetter his heart with benevolence. That he may not leave thee with a wounded heart, think of what thou wouldst do in his place. How many ways thou hast to show thy gratitude! No, gratitude cannot be limited. The mind of man is as incapable of understanding its merits as he is of worthily manifesting it. If thou dost wish the sincerity of thy sentiments not to be suspected, bestow liberally of thy wealth upon the poor. Let thy bounties, pure of all ostentation, have no other witness than the Divine Majesty. Beware of making allusions to them in words of pride; the Lord will know how to raise the veil with which thy modesty has covered them. The misconduct of intoxication is better than benefits accompanied with reproaches. There are many whom shame prevents from begging; go to meet those who have a right to thy compassion. How many men are divested of prosperity and whom misfortune has thrown at thy feet! To him who remains so overwhelmed in misery, even though he solicit not thy generosity, go, extend a succoring hand; that is more profitable than the building of sumptuous palaces. Be convinced of this truth: thou wilt receive the reward for thy good deeds. Hypocrisy soils thy bounties; they will be neither useful to thee nor to them who have received them. Better is it to aid one unfortunate than to invite the rich to luxurious repasts. Seated at thy table, they would laugh at thy expense, and would criticise thy least faults. Hospitality given thus to the opulent, what is it but prodigality? What will it reap, in this world and in the next, but the eternal tortures of hell? Except in the cases where it is absolutely necessary to avoid serious inconvenience, to conciliate the good-will of thy brothers and live on good terms with them, every time that abundance reigns with thee, call in the poor and the orphans to share with thee. CHAPTER X The Desirability of Knowledge O young and growing shrub, ornament of the meadow of education, thou who dost lighten the heart and the eyes of thy father, apply thyself night and day to the study of noble wisdom; remain not like the brute, plunged in ignorance. Beware of a shameful idleness; knowledge and study are inseparable. The numerical value of these words is a proof in itself of this truth. Without study no knowledge; where one is not, the other cannot exist. Knowledge is the attribute of God; it is the most precious of all qualities. Neglect nothing to acquire it; such is the teaching of the illustrious preceptor. He also has said: Devote thyself to study from the cradle to the tomb. Exert, then, all thy strength to arrive at a city whose gate is the son-in-law of the Prophet. Knowledge, celestial gift, is the table of divine hospitality. Mediator between being and void, it adorns the visage of existence. It is for it that the king of the domain of light exclaimed: Lord, increase my knowledge! It is the source of glory and of elevation; it gives an authority free from all taint. It holds the empire of dignity and of elucidation; it dispenses all knowledge. Vast ocean without bounds, he who claims to possess it is without wisdom. Ignorance is death, knowledge is life, said the Lord; dost thou then desire to be counted among the dead? Do not deprive thyself of eternal life; learn, with the aid of knowledge, to distinguish good from evil. Enrich thy mind with all kinds of knowledge; who knows if thou wilt not have occasion to make use of it? If thou art questioned concerning a difficulty, is it not better to reply thereunto than to confess thy ignorance? God said to men: Seek knowledge even to the ends of the earth. Blush not to take lessons from a teacher skilful in archery; in all things it is finer to know than to be ignorant. The unlearned, in comparison with the learned, are dunces, and even less. How can an educated man be compared to an ignorant one? are the blind and those that see on the same level? Whatever be his rank and power, true dignity will never be the portion of the ignorant. Ignorance is the capital of shame and dishonor; his lot is debasement and contempt. It is a cursed prison, in which those who fall never see liberty again. Ignorance is chaos, knowledge is existence, how can two such contrary principles be associated? Apply thyself to the study of the secrets of nature; do not stray in the valley of philosophy. What is more precious than knowledge? have any ever repented of devoting themselves to it? Subjects and kings all have need of the assistance of learned men. The nobility of knowledge has no more limits than the attributes of the Creator. As long as these cannot be limited, how can one fix boundaries to the others? Do not pause at the shell of things; seek to penetrate to the marrow. From the surface, pass to the interior: does the bird fly in the air without wings? The outside of a house is as a place of passage; it is within one seeks repose. Pearls are not found on the borders of the sea; if thou dost wish to possess them, thou must plunge in the depths. The study of grammar, of syntax, and of literature is necessary; they are indispensable instruments to learn Arabic; but it is not necessary to give all one’s time to it: of what good is an instrument which one does not use? It is good to acquire all sorts of knowledge; not, however, to the same degree. It suffices thee to ornament thy mind with the knowledge of jurisprudence, of the hÂdis and of the commentaries of the Koran. For the rest, content thyself with theory, leave to others the practice: fly lawsuits and contests. Abandon law for the practice of good works; enter not in the domains of chicanery: if thou dost not understand anything of the questions of purchase and sale, what disadvantage will come to thee of it in this world and the next? CHAPTER XI Of the Knowledge of God O most beautiful of the pages of the book of creatures, thou whose image adorns the mirror of qualities! hearken to this paternal counsel: Boast of thy merit to no one; do not pursue a vain science which is babbled of in public lest thou consume thy strength to no purpose. Devote thyself to some science worthy of thy Creator and of thyself. Only pass through the realm of philosophy, but fasten thy attention on the writings of the friends of God. The holy aspirations of these illustrious guides bring men to truth. How difficult is it to find a perfect spiritual director! For the present, these precepts may suffice for thee. Let thy piety be enlightened. Far be it from thee to become a hypocrite and bigot, and weary not of aspiring to perfection and of working to become a sincere adorer of God. Do not stray in the slippery places of doubt, for there are no wise men save those who are learned in divine things. How can he who devotes himself to grammatical subtilities penetrate the divine mysteries? The Creator of love has said: Acquire knowledge; such should be the aim of the two worlds. Knowledge is the ornament of man and the last places are the share of the ignorant. Knowledge is a spiritual happiness and a gift of divine beneficence. The ignorant reject knowledge because they cannot raise themselves to the required level, for they would devote themselves to it body and soul, were it possible. Examine closely, and then decide. The mud of deception is not able to sully the garb of knowledge and the garment of instruction. Thou knowest that it is God himself who hath put thee in this world to serve him with all thy heart. Of necessity he is the master of the house; the fool only sees the house and mistakes the master. Labor courageously night and day to obtain the grace of the abiding of God with thee. Let him be the constant object of thy thoughts and of thy meditations, and be attentive to this great spectacle beneath thy eyes. Trouble not thyself with heaven or with hell, for it is their Master only whom thou must seek. If thou dost possess him, O life of my soul, thou wilt possess two worlds. Seek to know thyself well, if thou dost wish to fathom the mysteries of this world. Seek morality eagerly, and give thyself no respite when thou wilt have found it. Whoever knows it not is a blind man below the ox and the ass. Morality is the chief riches of an enlightened soul and heart, and the last step to the knowledge of God. He who hath not penetrated to the light of morality remains lost in the shadows of error. If thou dost well understand the truth of things, O pearl of Aden, thou wilt be invulnerable against fear and sadness. There lies all the mystery of unity; there is the secret of eternal felicity. Light of mine eyes! how full of anguish it is to be struck with blindness in this world and in the next! Anoint thine eyes with the salve of morality; if not, the day of judgment will be that of thy condemnation. He is blind, he that does not bear witness, for whom the gates of truth remain closed. He who was the glory of prophets asked in his prayers that the truth might be revealed to him. The writings of the men of God make the mirror of the intelligence to burn: do thou apply thyself to understand their meaning. Let these teachings be the safeguard of thy soul. He who seeks God has no better guide than the mesnÉvis of the greatest Physician. The sublime truths of the “Book of Victories and of Distinctions” are a balm of purity for the mind’s eye. The saints have left many teachings which aid man to know his Creator. Therein are found mystic and spiritual truths derived from the Koran. Outwardly, they are only legal decisions, but beneath is a whole order of incontestable revelations. Consecrate all thy hours to the study of these books: mayst thou possess in full the doctrine which they contain! CHAPTER XII Eulogy of Constantinople O moon that dost light the eye of hope, and dost adorn the days of thy aged father! it availeth thee more to cultivate thy talents than to break the seal of a treasure. Knowledge and instruction have no surer asylum than Constantinople, which has not its equal for the flavor of its intellectual fruit. May God prosper this abode of all greatness, the home and school of all great men, and the seat of administration for all people! There merit always finds consideration. Every perfection, every talent, is there esteemed at its just value. There are all the degrees of honor and of nobility; everywhere else life is lost and wasted. There everything has its peaceable course, and merit has not the injustice of fortune to fear. There are found all places, all dignities, and all careers. Heaven in vain revolves around the world, it sees nowhere a city like unto Constantinople. There are seen paintings, drawings, writings, and gildings, dazzling and gleaming beyond belief. All possible kinds of arts contribute their own brilliancy and splendor. See how she gleams with a beauty all her own, as the sea languidly caresses her! At Constantinople all arts and all professions are esteemed and honored, and one finds here talents whose names even are unknown elsewhere. Does he who is outside the house know what is within? Does he who stands on the shore see what is hidden by the depth of the sea? There also they excel in archery and the names of conquerors are immortalized on stone. Without mention of the rest, how pleasant and charming it is to fly over the surface of the sea, to reign at the same time over the air and the waves, like Solomon on his throne, and to recline luxuriously on a cushion with eyes fixed on a mirror of silver! There are combined at once music, song, and all pleasures. There, riding on the wings of the wind, the eyes perceive a great number of cities. Tranquilly resting on the breeze, one traverses the earth without fatigue. There are marvellously reflected the most gorgeous spectacles, which seem to mirror one another and give an enchanted aspect to the shores. The quaÎqs glide lightly over the water, with their wind-filled sails like a bird’s wings. How can so beautiful a sight be described? what need has it of eulogy? Behold Saint Sophia, marvel of the world, whose cupola might be termed the eighth celestial body. Nowhere has she her equal, save, perhaps in paradise. Contemplate the imperial seat of the sultans of the world, the dwelling of the kings of time, the court of the Ottoman Empire, and the centre of the rule of the khans. In this ever-blessed region is found all that is desirable. Whatever thou canst imagine, she possesses in the highest degree. She combines the elect of the beys, of the pachas, and the efendis, the most illustrious warriors and the most renowned wise men. All the world’s difficulties there find their solutions: all efforts are there crowned with success. The mind cannot conceive all the charms she contains. If she were not afflicted with all kinds of disease and the abominable plague, who would consent to leave this celestial abode whence care is forever exiled? If her temperature were more equal, would she not cause the rest of the world to be forgotten? Whoever has an established fortune should not establish his home in any other country. No city, no country, resembles or is comparable to her. She is the asylum of all sciences: everywhere else study is neglected for gain, commerce, agriculture, or usury, so that all vestiges of knowledge have disappeared. Money takes the place of talent in a province, and it seems as if merit could be extracted from it. In the provinces scientific men have become extinct and books are forgotten. Poetry and prose are both held in aversion, and even a Persian phrase is tabooed. The study of Arabic has vanished as snow without consistency, and the principles of grammar and syntax are entirely neglected. Luxury and presumption have intoxicated all hearts, and there is no worship but that of dignities and employments. There one finds neither virtue nor knowledge, and morality is outraged. The ambition to secure vain honors leaves no time for the labor for perfection. How many do not lift up their voices unto the Lord except when their fortunes are threatened by reverses! It is by a special dispensation of Providence that God has withdrawn learning from the provinces. If he had not first chained them in ignorance, who could have governed such men? The seat of power belongs to the great, but pride is the part of provincials. He who is high placed is not vainglorious; but these wretches are filled with arrogance. They constantly compare their dignity and importance to that of the representatives of authority. But what would it be if they possessed learning? They would not deign to look at their fellows. They know not their value, and take no account of their worth. Nothing teaches the inferiority of the provinces more than the sight of Constantinople. In the gatherings of the capital he who passes elsewhere for a wisest man of the century is but a blockhead; the strong-minded loses his assurance, and the fine talker has no longer a tongue. They who boasted so loudly of their rank and nobility are only admitted to the most commonplace circles. The arrogant, who knit his brows so disdainfully, eagerly seeks the door-keepers. He who bore a title so pompously cannot even obtain the honor of kissing the hem of a robe. He who occupied the first place is not even deemed worthy to remain at the door. What city can be compared to Constantinople? Is not the prince above him whose homages he receives? After the capital, there is no place so charming as Halep. Halep! honor of the province, illustrious and flourishing city; the resort of Indians, Europeans, and Chinese; object of the envy of the whole universe; the market of all merchandise; haven of joys and wealth, with thy delicious waters and climate, thy vast plains and magnificent buildings. CHAPTER XIII On Flight from Avidity and Avarice O new copy of the collection of mysteries, rosebud of the garden of graces! discover thy needs to no one, bend not thy back under the load of a favor received. Open not thy mouth to request; let not servile and entreating speech soil thy lips. Cupidity always engenders a bad reputation: the true secret to gain the esteem of others is to moderate thy desires. Hast thou not received the portion assigned to thee by destiny? What is the water of life, if it is not consideration? Should we not always show it? Be animated by generous feelings, beware of baseness, and do not demand all that thou seest. What is there so desirable in thy brother’s hand that thou shouldst so unceasingly covet? Has he not need of the gifts of the Lord, as thou hast? and is he not also the debtor of his universal beneficence? Is he not able to show thee favor, a weak mortal, and has he not sufficient wealth to share with thee? God never reproaches us with the benefits he grants: but is the hand of man other than an instrument? Although in all things the first causes must be considered, what are these causes without that which directs them? Seek not the creature to the exclusion of the Creator; lose not thy trouble. Confide in the generosity of the Lord; the portion he has allotted thee will return in spite of thyself. How sweet it is to repose in the shade of a modest retreat and to content one’s self with the gifts of Providence! Lay not a bold hand on the object of thy covetousness; God knows what is necessary for thee. Let thy heart, satisfied with the Creator’s gifts, accept with gratitude all that he grants thee! In his high wisdom, he knows all thy needs and he will provide for them at the seasonable time. Pious legacies do not belong to thee; the universal Dispenser will exhaust other sources to enrich thee. Money cannot appease hunger nor can it serve for the nourishing of thy body. If thou didst amass pyramids of gold or of silver, could they take the place of bread, or of oil, or of rice? Why trouble thyself concerning thy subsistence? Does not God provide for his servants’ needs? All that is not given willingly loses its worth: were it a rose, it has no longer a perfume. If thou art offered anything, O soul of thy father! sully not thy eyes and thy heart with cupidity: be courageous, and abase not thyself by looks which beg on all sides. However, thou canst accept with simplicity what a friend offers. In thy turn, thou wilt evidence thy gratitude by some present. Let thy promises remain always inviolable: be a religious observer of thy word. Know that a promise is a sacred obligation, and that to fail therein is to be covered with shame. Beware lest by lying words thou plantest the tree of promise on the roots of bad faith. CHAPTER XIV On the Bad Effects of Pleasantry and Jocularity O thou who dost aspire to repose in this world and in the next, who dost seek the way of peace of soul, abandon not thyself to pleasantries and jokes! This habit plunges into trouble all those who contract it. Sacrifice not thy friend to a play on words; throw not to the wind the rights of bread and salt. Pleasantry breaks the ties of intimacy, and its results are sad and painful. However brilliant it may be, it inflicts none the less deep wounds. How can the name of pleasantries be given to those burning arrows aimed at a friend’s heart? How many sallies, impregnated with venomous spleen, have filled with anger and rage those whom thou dost love! True wit is that which is appropriate, brief in expression, full of sense, innocent and inoffensive, like a blooming rose of the heart’s garden, whose charms attract from afar all the nightingales. Its perfume, breathed with delight, drives from the heart all thoughts of hate. It charms the ear like good tidings, and all who hear it are filled with joy. It is carried from city to city, and passes into a proverb from age to age. Nothing is more charming than such a pleasantry; if it is otherwise, it were better to refrain from making it. Beware of fault-finding and backbiting: a shame for all wise men. No pleasure nor profit can be found therein, and a very great sin is committed in yielding to it. The confidence of thy friends is lost; and thy name is detested where it is uttered. Fault-finding and backbiting render one as odious as does calumny. May God preserve thee from this scourge; mayst thou live in purity of heart and tranquillity of body! CHAPTER XV Of the Nobility of Generosity O thou who dost enumerate carefully the advantages of success, and dost consider the spectacle of refusals and welcomes, throw not a look of indifference on thy neighbor! Turn with interest to the unfortunate. Observe the rights of thy neighbors with justice; let the expression of thy countenance wound no one. Be not so parsimonious with thy food that thou canst not share it with others. Provide for their needs as much as possible. Let all the weak take refuge in the shadows of thy generosity! Do not entertain sentiments of hate and enmity against anyone; do not acquire the habit of tumult and agitation. Beware of anger, rage, and revenge; show to no one a countenance furrowed with discontent. Live on good terms with all the world and be always of an equable disposition. Do not annoy thy inferiors, nor impose upon them the constraint of cold formalities. Let not the expression of thy countenance grieve anyone; captivate everyone with thy good-nature. Let no one be a victim of thy injustice, never return evil for evil. Be not a burden on thy friends, do not make thyself insupportable by thy bad disposition. Let no soul be in anguish for thee; rather labor to elevate those who are desperate. Bring no lawsuit against anyone, that God may preserve thee in turn from litigants. Do not compromise thy honor in this world and in the next for strange interests. Be neither guardian, counsellor, nor trustee. Fly the domain of chicanery; do not rush into profitless agitation with lowered head. He who enters into quarrelling and strife with others brings down upon himself trouble and anxiety. Never follow the road of disputes and strife, for they provoke the flames of hatred! Raise not a finger to do evil: let one of thy hands be always busy in doing good. Carry not thy complaints to the door of the prince; refer to God’s tribunal him who hath wronged thee. However great be thy weakness and impotence, will the Lord therefore be less zealous for thy defence? Resigned and modest, be without care and without anxiety. CHAPTER XVI Eulogy of Good-nature O precious pearl of the sea of life, chosen model of the beauty of virtues! practise modesty, have always a dervish’s heart. Content thyself with little, practise humility: shoot forth roots in the garden-plot of the roses of prosperity. Mildness, politeness, and good deeds will win to thee all unprejudiced men. Is it fitting for good-nature to knit the brow and contract the forehead? Kindness and urbanity of character brighten the mirror of the heart. As truly as a smiling countenance is an indication of the mercy of God, so is a sullen face a cause for reprobation. Bad morals, reprehensible habits, and ill-humor lead to eternal damnation. How insupportable are the manners of whomsoever is given to haughtiness! Presumption is a diabolical fault unknown to the court of angels. Have no intercourse with the vainglorious; fly from him. If thou be forced to sit near him, show humility. The wise men, although with apparent moderation, have said: Be proud with him who is proud; but as thereby there may be cause for discord, hasten to avoid it by thy humility. Pride and presumption in human nature are an inevitable malady and incurable wound. He who falls into this abyss cannot prosper; the hurt of his misfortune becomes incurable. Suffer not thyself to be intoxicated by honors and dignities; expose not thus thy brow to the wrath of the lord. Grandeur and eminence are fitting in God; but what can they accomplish in a slave? Let all thy ways be submissive: never reach forth thy hand to do wrong to another. If pride and haughtiness appear in thee, God will raise up enemies for thee even among thy kindred. Let us suppose that thy rank lifts thee to heaven, thou art none the less the last of the slaves of the Lord. Repulse no one from thy door harshly; give neither thy hand nor the hem of thy robe to be kissed. However high placed thou mayst be, do not exact servile homage. It is thou who shouldst prostrate thy countenance on the ground: is it fitting for a slave to have his hand and his garment kissed? Do not conceive a false opinion of thy own worth; as much as possible, do not take precedence. Many candidates aspire to precedence, and perhaps they will obtain it before thee. Boast to no one of thy rank and importance, for fear of becoming a burden to him. Salute others with mildness and modesty; oblige no one to remain standing. If thou art treated with honor, there is nothing better; if otherwise, dispute not. If modesty and good form reign in thy conduct, doubtless consideration will be shown in turn to thee. Modesty is the ornament of the countenance of faith; effrontery is pernicious in this world and the next. Let morality perfect good-nature in thee; then see how many joys there are in modesty! Morality is the ornament of man; without it, he is but the slave of Satan. Because he was without it, the envious one was driven from the throne of celestial mercy. At the last judgment, on the day of the final catastrophe, thou wilt not be able to lift thy head nor turn thy eyes. But the judgment of God is omnipresent; his eye embraces all that is. In the eyes of his omniscience there is no difference between this world and the world to come. The Creator is beyond the vicissitudes of fortune; no change can affect him. Knowing that he is omnipresent and all-seeing, how dost thou dare to break the laws of morality? Show not to the foolish the depths of thy heart; hearken unto the prophets, practise their teachings. Did not the Apostle of God receive the order to act with wise dissimulation? Without it, thou wilt have no repose, says the Glory of the World, the Spring of all Wisdom. It is for thee as a protecting arm; without its aid, how many quarrels and disputes! It is the surest rampart against all the troubles of the world. Do not turn like the wind in all directions; like the sun, do not shine on the doors of all. Do not reveal thy secrets to strangers; open not to fools the gate to thy private affairs. Give not thy confidence to the first comer; do not retail in public what regards thee alone. Do not believe that all men are sincere, but do not look upon them all as hypocrites. Be not blinded by the praises that thou dost receive; be not loath to overcome thy passions. How could these praises lavished on thee be free from hypocrisy? For myself I see no difference between the stings of the wasp and the flattering words of the foolish. If they have nothing to hope from thee, they will never gather in thy house. On a festival day, do not go to anyone’s house without an invitation, nor to the homes of any save the honorable. Let the gatherings that thou dost frequent be composed of pious men. Let them not be meetings of corruption and perversity. While thou must acknowledge an invitation, wilt thou not be out of place where thy honor is compromised? When thou art in an assembly, abuse neither speech nor silence; use in turn thy tongue and thy ear. Let thy words like pearls be as brief as possible. Govern thy speech according to this motto: brevity and clearness. Man has only one tongue and two ears; speak, then, little and listen much. However, if a garrulous person evinces stupidity the silent man ends by becoming burdensome. Speak neither too little nor too much; keep a correct medium. Be neither stupid nor importune. He who holds the scales of good education said: to speak too much availeth a man nothing. Do not recite in public the praises of God; prayer should be hidden in solitude; before others it is only hypocrisy and importunity; a terrible chastisement will be its just award. Never reply harshly; when thou speakest to anyone let it be with sweet courtesy. Reproach no one face to face with his hidden faults; lend to his discourse a friendly ear. Never expose the ignorance of anyone. Why cover with confusion a creature of God? Take care not to strike with the weapon of slander; an eternal penalty will be its punishment. The penetration of him who has given thee the jewel of knowledge has shown him that ignorance was well for thy brother. Such is the providential dispensation of the Creator; so has ordained the justice of his omnipotence. Let these words be the ornament of thy mouth; woe unto thee if thou dost not heed them! Renounce injustice and violence; never utter harsh words that wound the heart. Be generous, whatever happens, O soul of my soul; let thy tongue outrage no one! To wound thy brother to the heart is the worst of sins, the greatest of all iniquities. Labor with ardor to raise up those who have fallen; wouldst thou desire to overthrow the throne of the Lord? Will the avenging God suffer a temple to be ruined from dome to foundation? Light of mine eyes! be convinced that there is no pardon for such a sin. CHAPTER XVII Of Lying and of Hypocrisy O thou who dost hearken unto my teachings, who dost take lessons in the school of experience, never contract the habit of lying and of hypocrisy which sap the foundations of concord. Give no access in thy heart to deception; be simple, ingenuous, and without cunning. Lying and deception are pollutions which only produce deception and confusion. Forerunners of the works of Satan, they throw their authors in eternal chains. Justly abhorred by men, they only produce disastrous results. What is more horrible than never to open the mouth for good, and to excite discord by false allegations? It is a speech passed into a proverb that the perfidious die in grief. Infamy is the only good that they can acquire; their life is consumed in sadness and grief. Perfidy, bad faith, lying, hypocrisy, perversity of mind, and corruption of heart; all these are the qualities of the damned, but they become not the true faithful. The great teacher of religion said: The true Mussulman is he whose hand and tongue are not to be feared. O thou who dost seek happiness, should not the reputation, life, and riches of all believers be regarded a sacred repository? CHAPTER XVIII Forbidding the Practice of Astrology and Chiromancy O thou who dost aspire to a solidly founded happiness, who seekest the ways to obtain the favors of Providence! be not addicted to the sorceries of chiromancy and astrology; they draw down misfortune on those who practise them; they precipitate them to ruin: instead of the gold they hoped to receive, they draw forth a vile metal. Since immutable destiny has ordained all that can come to pass, forget the future to think only of the present. Why be troubled in advance by what is not yet, and sow needlessly in thy heart the seeds of anguish and trouble? Believe not the lying words of chiromancy, for God above knows what is concealed. Even if this were a science, the man who teaches it is of no worth; his knowledge is null, his words false, his mind diseased. Do we not see what happens to these diviners and astrologers; is there a single one who prospers? Might we not say that misfortune is the satellite of all these sorceries? Leave, then, loans, and enjoy thy ready money. What wilt thou do when thou shalt have been plunged in all these agonies? Believe my words, and may God preserve thee from so disastrous a blindness. CHAPTER XIX Of the Defilement of Drunkenness O precious pearl of the jewel casket of my soul, thou whose image is stamped on my heart! be not seduced by the rosy cup; it debases man in the eyes of his fellows, renders him odious to all, and deprives him of his honor and respect. Have no connection with this mother of all vices, who engenders all sorts of calamities. What a shame to pass for a debauchee, to be known everywhere for thy passion for wine! Beware of drunkenness, of that stupefaction which causes the loss of reason. Since the all-wise Creator has forbidden this excess, be submissive to his decision. Sully not thyself with the crime of revolt, have no cause to blush before thy Creator. Fear to fall in the snares of sin; if that occurs, entreat for pardon. When thou dost visit an assembly, publicly reproach no one. Do not jostle those who are drunk; do not throw stones at those without reason. Why grieve these senseless persons, when thou thyself art able to share their misfortune? Why molest them? Some time, doubtless, a like mishap will befall thee. Avoid reproaching others for their blindness in sin, and declaring thyself free from stain. O soul of thy father, know well; when thou dost accuse thy brother, thou dost render thyself guilty. Must thou attack with violence the errors of others, and turn thy eyes from thy own conduct? Repentance always follows sin, for adversity is the consequence of crime. One day, in a gathering, at the house of Djelal eddin Roumi, someone said boastingly: “I have never seen the color of wine, never have I tasted liquor.” “It were better still not to drink it after having seen it,” answered this holy sage, the pole of good conduct, the king of the domain of grace, shocked at this proud presumption. Suffer not thyself to be weakened by the assaults of drunkenness, do not deliver thyself up to the seductions of hashish and opium. Bendj[1] and esrar[2] are still more destructive; he who consumes them is a dunce. These drugs make a man the laughing-stock of other men: he is an ape in human form. Obscure not the light of thy soul’s jewel; cover not with darkness the eye of thy intelligence. Wrap not opium in a shroud during the Ramazan, so that thy body may become as the tomb of one dead. This poison makes man wicked and immoral; perverts him, corrupts his heart, alters his features, and bewilders his tongue. When intoxication arrives, he hugs himself with delight; when it is dissipated, he is beside himself; he is a corpse in the form of one living: the brilliancy of his cheeks is blighted. Even though there appeared no exterior effects, who would not blush to be called Teriaki? CHAPTER XX Of the Vanity of Adornment O thou who art as the veil behind which hides seductive beauty, thou who canst not be captivated by the wish for notoriety, fasten not thy heart on ornaments and adornment; do not love inordinately pearls and precious stones. Doubtless the sight of these objects rejoices the eye, but they are not suitable for men. For him, gold is the source of all benefits; for woman, it is the ornament of the body. Leave finery, then, to women, make a generous use of thy riches. Be not with thy sparkling garments like unto a gilded box of perfume. Do not pride thyself on the splendor of thy raiment, but content thyself with a modest outfit. Although moral purity is indeed estimable, still the fabrics which cover thy body should be spotless. Do not torment thyself with the search of all manner of tissues for thy adornment. All who see anyone arrayed after that fashion shrug their shoulders in passing him. Whatever be the costume adopted by thy equals, adopt it thyself. Let thy garb be conformed to theirs, however different thy fortune may be. Let the carpets and fringes of thy hangings, and all the objects thou dost use, be not distinguished by inordinate luxury. If thou art able to wear sable, is not the fox’s fur as useful? It is nothing, after all, but the skin of a dead animal; nothing is less precious in the eyes of wise men. Luxury in furs and raiment throws man into ruinous expenses; he gets into debt to keep up his pomp, and adds to his troubles and anxieties. Do not dissipate thy goods inconsiderately: prodigality is detested by God. A wise man, to teach the value of wealth, used this just and reasonable comparison: To acquire riches, to accumulate a capital which keeps us in ease, is as difficult as to tear a cliff away from the earth and carry it to the summit of a mountain; to spend our money is as easy as to let it roll to the base. Appreciate after that, which of the two requires the more trouble, and weigh all thy actions in a just scale. Suspend from thy ear the pearl of my words. O soul of thy father, beware of debt! Debt changes a man completely; were he a Plato, it makes of him a Medjnoun. His body is in perfect health, his morals are diseased; he bears on his neck the yoke of his creditor. Debts make a fool of a wise man; they enervate the most heroic hearts, their day of reckoning is like that of death, and they lead to prison as death to the tomb. What is that, then, when a harsh creditor throws every day trouble into the heart of the debtor, when usurious interests, increasing the capital, make his body bend under an unsupportable burden; when the creditor, invoking the aid of the law, calls to his assistance false witnesses; when, crushing his victim under the feet of violence, he dishonors him in the eyes of everyone until that moment when, unable to vindicate himself, the end of life draws near? O light of mine eyes, may Almighty God preserve thee from the scourge of debt! Better is it a thousand times to sell thy raiment and carpets, to go to rest fasting and in tatters, than to have creditors and lose thy peace in litigation. Lend to no one at usurious interest; it becomes the source of disputes. The fear of God is rare in this world: people are always ready to conceal and deny the truth; the most incontestable rights are unceasingly contested; all are busy in denying or taking oaths. A delay is demanded, then another. The money which is refused thee is eaten up by the expenses of justice. Is thy debtor the relative of some personage? claim thy money if thou dost dare; even at the hour of payment he goes to see that personage, warms his zeal by some present, and says to him: “What, lord, thou art here, and yet such an one would force me to pay!” Immediately this oppressor mounts his horse, and goes to the cadi and mufti; then thou wilt be threatened with the wrath of the judges, and thou wilt be continually urged to renounce thy pretensions. If all these artifices have no effect, thy adversary will stir up the waves of lying, will raise up false witnesses, will produce legal deeds and manufactured fetvas. Whatever thou mayst do in the vain hope of winning thy cause, he will do all to make it of no avail. Such is the custom of our times. Woe to him who lends his money to another!
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