(50) When the lover feels no longer LOVE's quickening, He becomes like a bird who has lost its wings. Alas! How can I retain my senses about me, When the BELOVED shows not the light of His countenance? LOVE desires that this secret should be revealed, For if a mirror reflects not, of what use is it? Knowest thou why thy mirror reflects not? If it were purified from all rust and defilement, O friends, ye have now heard this tale,

(1) A loved one said to her lover to try him, Early one morning, "O such an one, son of such an one, I marvel whether you hold me more dear, Or yourself; tell me truly, O ardent suitor!" He answered, "I am so entirely absorbed in you, Of my own existence nothing but the name remains In my being is nothing besides you, O Object of desire! Therefore am I thus lost in you, Just as vinegar is absorbed in honey; Or as a stone, which is changed into a pure ruby, In that stone its own properties abide not

A king purchased two slaves, one extremely handsome, and the other very ugly. He sent the first away to the bath, and in his absence questioned the other. He told him that the first slave had given a very bad account of him, saying that he was a thief and a bad character, and asked if it was true. The second slave replied that the first was everything that was good, his inward qualities corresponding to the beauty of his outward appearance, and that whatever he had told the king was worthy of credit. The king replied that beauty was only an accident, and that, according to the tradition, accidents "endure only two moments;" that at death the animal soul is destroyed, that the text, "Whoso shall present himself with beauty shall receive tenfold reward," I does not refer to outward accidents, but to the "substance," the eternal soul. The slave in reply urged that the accidents of good works and thoughts will in some way bear fruit in the next world, pointing out that thought is always the precursor of the completed work, as the plan of the architect precedes the building, and the gardener's design the perfect fruit resulting from his labors. He added that the world is only the realized thought of "Universal Reason" The king then sent away the slave with whom he had held this discourse, and summoned the other, and told him that his fellow slave had given a bad account of him, and asked what he had to say. He replied that his fellow slave was a liar and a rascal, and the king then dismissed him, observing that, in accordance with the tradition, "Every man is hidden under his own tongue," his tongue had betrayed his inner vileness. "The safety of a man lies in holding his tongue."

(160) Therefore, O Child of man! have a care, trust not too much upon worldly wisdom, it is blind, and is born blind; but when the flash of life is generated therein, then it is no more blind, but seeth.

(4) I do not think her mother loves me more, Since she has laid aside her wimple white, Which she, unhappy, needs must wish again. Through her full easily is comprehended How long in woman lasts the fire of love, If eye or touch do not relight it often. So fair a hatchment will not make for her The Viper marshalling the Milanese A-field, as would have made Gallura's Cock." In this wise spake he, with the stamp impressed Upon his aspect of that righteous zeal Which measurably burneth in the heart. My greedy eyes still wandered up to heaven, Still to that point where slowest are the stars, Even as a wheel the nearest to its axle. And my Conductor: "Son, what dost thou gaze at Up there?" And I to him: "At those three torches With which this hither pole is all on fire." And he to me: "The four resplendent stars Thou sawest this morning are down yonder low, And these have mounted up to where those were." As he was speaking, to himself Sordello Drew him, and said, "Lo there our Adversary!" And pointed with his finger to look thither.

(1) Already on my Lady's face mine eyes Again were fastened, and with these my mind, And from all other purpose was withdrawn; And she smiled not; but "If I were to smile," She unto me began, "thou wouldst become Like Semele, when she was turned to ashes. Because my beauty, that along the stairs Of the eternal palace more enkindles, As thou hast seen, the farther we ascend, If it were tempered not, is so resplendent That all thy mortal power in its effulgence Would seem a leaflet that the thunder crushes. We are uplifted to the seventh splendour, That underneath the burning Lion's breast Now radiates downward mingled with his power. Fix in direction of thine eyes the mind, And make of them a mirror for the figure That in this mirror shall appear to thee." He who could know what was the pasturage My sight had in that blessed countenance, When I transferred me to another care, Would recognize how grateful was to me Obedience unto my celestial escort, By counterpoising one side with the other.

(4) But there are earlier and loftier beauties than these. In the sense-bound life we are no longer granted to know them, but the soul, taking no help from the organs, sees and proclaims them. To the vision of these we must mount, leaving sense to its own low place.

As it is not for those to speak of the graceful forms of the material world who have never seen them or known their grace- men born blind, let us suppose- in the same way those must be silent upon the beauty of noble conduct and of learning and all that order who have never cared for such things, nor may those tell of the splendour of virtue who have never known the face of Justice and of Moral-Wisdom beautiful beyond the beauty of Evening and of dawn.

Such vision is for those only who see with the Soul's sight- and at the vision, they will rejoice, and awe will fall upon them and a trouble deeper than all the rest could ever stir, for now they are moving in the realm of Truth.

This is the spirit that Beauty must ever induce, wonderment and a delicious trouble, longing and love and a trembling that is all delight. For the unseen all this may be felt as for the seen; and this the Souls feel for it, every soul in some degree, but those the more deeply that are the more truly apt to this higher love- just as all take delight in the beauty of the body but all are not stung as sharply, and those only that feel the keener wound are known as Lovers.

(14) The innkeeper had two concubines, one beautiful, the other ugly. The latter he loved; the former, he hated. Yang Tzŭ asked how this was; whereupon one of the inn servants said, "The beautiful one is so conscious of her beauty that one does not think her beautiful. The ugly one is so conscious of her ugliness that one does not think her ugly." "Note this, my disciples!" cried Yang Tzŭ. "Be virtuous, but without being consciously so; and wherever you go, you will be beloved."

(6) The Eye went off. Having remained away a year, it came back and said: ' How have you been able to live without me?' They said: ' As the blind, not seeing with the eye, but breathing with breath, speaking with speech, hearing with the ear, knowing with the mind, procreating with semen. Thus have we lived.' The eye entered in.

(1) That Sun, which erst with love my bosom warmed, Of beauteous truth had unto me discovered, By proving and reproving, the sweet aspect. And, that I might confess myself convinced And confident, so far as was befitting, I lifted more erect my head to speak. But there appeared a vision, which withdrew me So close to it, in order to be seen, That my confession I remembered not. Such as through polished and transparent glass, Or waters crystalline and undisturbed, But not so deep as that their bed be lost, Come back again the outlines of our faces So feeble, that a pearl on forehead white Comes not less speedily unto our eyes; Such saw I many faces prompt to speak, So that I ran in error opposite To that which kindled love 'twixt man and fountain. As soon as I became aware of them, Esteeming them as mirrored semblances, To see of whom they were, mine eyes I turned, And nothing saw, and once more turned them forward Direct into the light of my sweet Guide, Who smiling kindled in her holy eyes.

(72) In a fit state to see the vision of Thyself? When our hearts are bewitched by Thy smiles and frowns, Can we gain life from these two alternating states? The fertile garden of love, as it is boundless, The true lover is exalted above these two states, He is fresh and green independently of autumn or spring! Pay tithe on Thy beauty, O Beauteous One! Tell forth the tale of the Beloved, every whit! For through coquetry His glances I gave Him leave to shed my blood, if He willed it;

(6) My own affection is not so profound As to suffice in rendering grace for grace; Let Him, who sees and can, thereto respond. Well I perceive that never sated is Our intellect unless the Truth illume it, Beyond which nothing true expands itself. It rests therein, as wild beast in his lair, When it attains it; and it can attain it; If not, then each desire would frustrate be. Therefore springs up, in fashion of a shoot, Doubt at the foot of truth; and this is nature, Which to the top from height to height impels us. This doth invite me, this assurance give me With reverence, Lady, to inquire of you Another truth, which is obscure to me. I wish to know if man can satisfy you For broken vows with other good deeds, so That in your balance they will not be light." Beatrice gazed upon me with her eyes Full of the sparks of love, and so divine, That, overcome my power, I turned my back And almost lost myself with eyes downcast.

(4) And the more people thitherward aspire, More are there to love well, and more they love there, And, as a mirror, one reflects the other. And if my reasoning appease thee not, Thou shalt see Beatrice; and she will fully Take from thee this and every other longing. Endeavour, then, that soon may be extinct, As are the two already, the five wounds That close themselves again by being painful." Even as I wished to say, "Thou dost appease me," I saw that I had reached another circle, So that my eager eyes made me keep silence. There it appeared to me that in a vision Ecstatic on a sudden I was rapt, And in a temple many persons saw; And at the door a woman, with the sweet Behaviour of a mother, saying: "Son, Why in this manner hast thou dealt with us? Lo, sorrowing, thy father and myself Were seeking for thee;"—and as here she ceased, That which appeared at first had disappeared. Then I beheld another with those waters Adown her cheeks which grief distils whenever From great disdain of others it is born,

(211) That men may not see the bloom of the one and the other's shame, True, the Gardener knows the difference even in autumn, But the sight of One is better than the world's sight. That One Person is Himself the world, as He is the sun, That One Person is Himself the world, and the rest Are all His dependents and parasites, O man! He is the perfect world, yet He is single; Wherefore all forms and colours of beauty cry out, " Good news! good news! Lo! the spring is at hand!" If the blossoms did not shine as bright helmets,

(169) Woe, woe, poor miserable blinded man, why sufferest thou the devil to make thy body and soul so dark and blind? O temporal good, and the pleasure and voluptuousness of this life! thou blind whore, why dost thou go a wooing and a whoring to the devil?

An old man complained to his physician that he suffered from headache. The physician replied, "That is caused by old age." The old man next complained of a defect in his sight, and the physician again told him that his malady was due to old age. The old man went on to say that he suffered from pain in the back, from dyspepsia, from shortness of breath, from nervous debility, from inability to walk, and so on; and the physician replied that each of these ailments was likewise caused by old age. The old man, losing patience, said, "O fool, know you not that God has ordained a remedy for every malady?" The physician answered, "This passion and choler are also symptoms of old age. Since all your members are weak, you have lost the power of self-control, and fly into a passion at every word."

(1) Through love bitter things seem sweet, Through love dregs taste like pure wine, Through love thorns become roses, Through love the stake becomes a throne, Through love a prison seems a rose bower, Through love burning fire is pleasing light, Through love hard stones become soft as butter, Through love grief is as joy, Through love stings are as honey, Through love sickness is health,

A certain king dreamed that his dearly beloved son, a youth of great promise, had come to an untimely end. On awaking he was rejoiced to find that his son was still alive; but he reflected that an accident might carry him off at any moment, and therefore decided to marry him without delay, in order that the succession might be secured. Accordingly he chose the daughter of a pious Darvesh as a bride for his son, and made preparations for the wedding. But his wife and the other ladies of his harem did not approve of the match, considering it below the dignity of the prince to marry the daughter of a beggar. The king rebuked them, saying that a Darvesh who had renounced worldly wealth for the sake of God was not to be confounded with an ordinary beggar, and insisted on the consummation of the marriage. After the marriage the prince refused to have anything to do with his bride, though she was very fair to look on, and he carried on an intrigue with an ugly old woman who had bewitched him by sorcery. After a year, however, the king found some physicians who succeeded in breaking the spell, and the prince returned to his senses, and his eyes were opened to the superior attractions of his wife, and he renounced his ugly paramour and fell in love with his wife. This is a parable, the true wife being the Deity, the old paramour the world, and the physicians the prophets and saints. Another illustration is a child who played at besieging a mimic fort with his fellows, and succeeded in capturing it and keeping the others out. At this moment God "bestowed on him wisdom, though a child," and it became to him a day "when a man flees from his brethren," and he recognized the emptiness of this idle sport, and engaged in the pursuit of holiness and piety. This is followed by an anecdote of a devotee who had so concentrated his thoughts on things above that he was utterly careless of all earthly troubles, and was cheerful and rejoicing even in the midst of a severe famine. The world is the outward form of "Universal Reason" (Muhammad), and he who grieves him must expect trouble in the world.

A sage went out to till his field, and saw a peacock busily engaged in destroying his own plumage with his beak. At seeing this insane self-destruction the sage could not refrain himself, but cried out to the peacock to forbear from mutilating himself and spoiling his beauty in so wanton a manner. The peacock then explained to him that the bright plumage which he admired so much was a fruitful source of danger to its unfortunate owner, as it led to his being constantly pursued by hunters, whom he had no strength to contend against; and he had accordingly decided on ridding himself of it with his own beak, and making himself so ugly that no hunter would in future care to molest him. The poet proceeds to point out that worldly cleverness and accomplishments and wealth endanger man's spiritual life, like the peacock's plumage; but, nevertheless, they are appointed for our probation, and without such trials there can be no virtue.

(1) Men subdued by women's wiles. In this manner she pleaded with gentle coaxing, How could his firmness and endurance abide When even without tears she could charm his heart? That rain brought forth a flash of lightning Since the man was the slave of her fair face, How was it when she stooped to slavish entreaties? When she whose airs set thy heart a-quaking, When she weeps, how feelest thou then? When she whose coquetry makes thy heart bleed