(21) How can a fellow spiritual man mistake his meaning? Thus that minstrel began his intoxicating song, "O give me Thy cup, Thou whom I see not! Thou art my face; what wonder if I see it not? Thou art my reason; what wonder if I see Thee not Through the multitude of intervening obstacles? Thou art 'nearer to me than my neck vein,' How can I call to Thee, 'Ho,' as if thou wert far off? Nay, but I will mislead some by calling in the desert, To hide my Beloved from those of whom I am jealous!"

(82) I tell the tale of Saba in lovers' style. When the breeze bore Solomon's words to that garden, 'Twas as when bodies meet souls at the resurrection, The people of love are hidden amongst the peoples, Souls are disgraced by union with bodies, Arise, O lovers; this sweet draught is yours; Ye are they that endure; eternal life is yours. Ho! ye that seek, arise and take your fill of love, Snuff up that perfume of Yusuf! Approach, O Solomon, thou that knowest birds' language,

(1) "I know not if thou art a moon or an idol, I know not what service to pay thee, Thou art not apart from me, yet, strange to say, I know not where I am, or where thou art. I know not wherefore thou art dragging me, Now embracing me, and now wounding me!" That wine of God is gained from that minstrel, Both of these have one and the same name in speech, Men's bodies are like pitchers with closed mouths; Beware, till you see what is inside them.

(171) Then he said, "Though she lacks clothes of silk and wool, 'Tis sweeter to embrace her without those veils. I have become naked of the body and its illusions, I am admitted into the most intimate union." The story admits of being told up to this point, If you should speak and try a hundred ways to express it, 'Tis useless; the mystery becomes no clearer. You can ride on saddle and horse up to the sea-coast, But then you must use a horse of wood (i.e., a boat). A horse of wood is useless on dry land,

A lover was once admitted to the presence of his mistress, but, instead of embracing her, he pulled out a paper of sonnets and read them to her, describing her perfections and charms and his own love towards her at length. His mistress said to him, "You are now in my presence, and these lover's sighs and invocations are a waste of time. It is not the part of a true lover to waste his time in this way. It shows that I am not the real object of your affection, but that what you really love is your own effusions and ecstatic raptures. I see, as it were, the water which I have longed for before me, and yet you withhold it. I am, as it were, in Bulgaria, and the object of your love is in Cathay. One who is really loved is the single object of her lover, the Alpha and Omega of his desires. As for you, you are wrapped up in your own amorous raptures, depending on the varying states of your own feelings, instead of being wrapped up in me." The true mystic must not stop at mere subjective religious emotions, but seek absolute union with God.

The Prince of Bokhara had a Vakil who, through fear of punishment for an offence he had committed, ran away and remained concealed in Kuhistan and the desert for the space of ten years. At the end of that time, being unable to endure absence from his lord and his home any longer, he determined to return to Bokhara and throw himself at his lord's feet, and endure whatever punishment his lord might be pleased to inflict upon him. His friends did all they could to dissuade him, assuring him that the Prince's wrath was still hot against him, and that if he appeared at Bokhara he would be put to death, or at least imprisoned for the rest of his life. He replied, "O advisers, be silent, for the force of the love which is drawing me to Bokhara is stronger than the force of prudent counsels. When love pulls one way all the wisdom of Abu Hanifa and Ash-Shafi'i is impotent to withstand it. If it shall please my lord to slay me, I will yield up my life without reluctance, for this life of estrangement from him which I am now leading is the same as death, and release from it will be eternal happiness. I will return to Bokhara and throw myself at my lord's feet, and say to him, 'Deal with me as thou wilt, for I can no longer bear absence from thee, and life or death at thy hands is all the same to me!'" Accordingly, he journeyed back to Bokhara, counting the very toils and discomforts of the road sweet and delightful, because they were steps in his homeward course. When he reached Bokhara his friends and relations all warned him not to show himself, as the Prince was still mindful of his offence and bent on punishing him; but he replied to them as to his other advisers, that he was utterly regardless of his life, and was resolved to commit himself to his lord's good pleasure. He then went to the court and threw himself at his lord's feet and swooned away. The Prince, seeing the strong affection borne to him by his repentant servant, conceived a similar affection towards him, and descended from his throne and graciously raised him from the ground, and pardoned his offence. Thus it is that eternal life is gained by utter abandonment of one's own life. When God appears to His ardent lover the lover is absorbed in Him, and not so much as a hair of the lover remains. True lovers are as shadows, and when the sun shines in glory the shadows vanish away. He is a true lover of God to whom God says, "I am thine, and thou art mine!" In the course of this story, which is narrated at great length, are introduced anecdotes of a lover and his mistress, of the Virgin Mary being visited by the "Blessed Spirit" or Angel Gabriel, of the fatal mosque, of Galen's devotion to carnal learning, of Satan's treachery to the men of Mecca at the battle of Bedr, and of Solomon and the gnat. There also occur comments on various texts, and a curious comparison of the trials and wholesome afflictions of the righteous to the boiling of potherbs in a saucepan by the cook. The reply of the lover when asked by his mistress which city of all those he had seen was most pleasing in his sight.

(82) But the lover's love makes his body lean, While the beloved's love makes hers fair and lusty. When in this heart the lightning spark of love arises, When the love of God arises in thy heart, The noise of clapping of hands is never heard From one of thy hands unaided by the other hand The man athirst cries, "Where is delicious water?" Water too cries, "Where is the water-drinker?" This thirst in my soul is the attraction of the water; I am the water's and the water is mine.

(1) Whoso is restricted to religious raptures is but a man; Sometimes his rapture is excessive, sometimes deficient. The Sufi is, as it were, the "son of the season," Religious raptures depend on feelings and will, You are a lover of your own raptures, not of me; Whoso is now defective, now perfect, Is not adored by Abraham; he is "one that sets." Because the stars set, and are now up, now down, He loved them not; "I love not them that set." Whoso is now pleasing and now unpleasing Is at one time water, at another fire.

(131) "The Friend" is to the lover as day to the sun, The material sun is a veil over the face of the real day. Whoso distinguishes not the veil from "The Friend's" face Is a worshipper of the sun; of such a one beware! "The Friend" is the real day, and daily food of lovers, The heart and the heart's torment of His lovers. Ah! many earnest suppliants wail forth prayers, Till the smoke of their wailing rises to heaven; Yea, the perfume of the incense of sinners' groans Then the angels supplicate God, saying,

(1) Apology for applying the term "Bride" to God. Mustafa became beside himself at that sweet call, His prayer failed on "the night of the early morning halt." He lifted not head from that blissful sleep," On that, his wedding night, in presence of his bride, Love and mistress are both veiled and hidden, Impute it not as a fault if I call Him "Bride." I would have kept silence from fear of my Beloved, If He had granted me but a moment's respite. But He said, "Speak on, 'tis no fault, 'Tis naught but the necessary result of the hidden decree,

(121) Mere nothings before eternal Being? If we are drunkards or madmen, 'Tis that Cup-bearer and that Cup which make us so. We bow down our heads before His edict and ordinance, While the thought of the Beloved fills our hearts, All our work is to do Him service and spend life for Him. Wherever He kindles His destructive torch, Myriads of lovers' souls are burnt therewith. The lovers who dwell within the sanctuary Are moths burnt with the torch of the Beloved's face."

(161) I have never tasted wine sweeter than this poison, No health can be sweeter than this sickness! No devotion is better than this sin (of love), Years are as a moment compared to this moment!" Long time he dwelt with the King in this manner, With burning heart, as a lively sacrifice. Thus his life passed, yet he gained not the union He wished. Patient waiting consumed him, his soul could not bear it; The form of his earthly Beloved was hidden from him; He departed, and found union with his Spiritual Beloved.

(12) When those Egyptian women sacrificed their reason, They penetrated the mansion of Joseph's love; The Cup-bearer of life bore away their reason, Joseph's beauty was only an offshoot of God's beauty; Be lost, then, in God's beauty more than those women. Love of God cuts short reasoning, O beloved, Through love bewilderment befalls the power of speech, It no longer dares to utter what passes; For if it sets forth an answer, it fears greatly Therefore it closes lips from saying good or bad, In like manner the Prophet's companions tell us

(2) The beloved of Tus, that ocean of spiritual secrets, said to one of his disciples: 'Melt yourself in the fire of love until you become as thin as a hair, then you will be fit to take your place among the locks of your beloved. If your eyes are turned towards the Way and if you are clear-seeing, then contemplate and ponder, hair by hair.

'He who leaves the world to follow this Way, finds death; he who finds death finds immortality. O my heart, if you have been turned inside out, cross the bridge Sirat and the burning fire; for when the oil in the lamp is burning it produces smoke as black as an old crow, but when it has been consumed by fire it ceases to have a coarse existence.

'If you wish to arrive at that high place first get rid of yourself; then go out from nothing as another Borak. Put on the khirka of nothingness and drink of the cup of annihilation, then cover your breast with the belt of belittlement

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and put on your head the burnous of non-existence. Place your foot in the stirrup of non-attachment, and urge your useless steed towards the place where there is nothing. But if there remains in you the least egoism the seven seas will be, for you, full of adversity.'

(12) He may be the house of the moon, but not the true moon; Or as the picture of a mistress, but not the living one. The mere Sufi is the " child of the season;" He clings to seasons as to a father, The pure one is drowned in the light cc that is not begotten," "What begets not and is not begotten" is God. Go I seek such love as this, if you are alive; If not, you are enslaved by varying seasons. Gaze not on your own pictures, fair or ugly, Gaze not at the sight of your own weakness or vileness, Gaze at object of your desire, O exalted one.

(34) The lover's love is visible, his Beloved hidden. The Friend is absent, the distraction he causes present. Renounce these affections for outward forms, Whatever is beloved is not a mere empty form, Whatever be the form you have fallen in love with, Why do you forsake it the moment life leaves it? The form is still there; whence, then, this disgust at it? Ah! lover, consider well what is really your beloved. If a thing perceived by outward senses is the beloved, Then all who retain their senses must still love it; And since love increases constancy,

(41) O Iover, 'twas love that gave life to Mount Sinai, When "it quaked, and Moses fell down in a swoon." Did my Beloved only touch me with his lips, I too, like the flute, would burst out in melody. But he who is parted from them that speak his tongue, Though he possess a hundred voices, is perforce dumb. When the rose has faded and the garden is withered, The BELOVED is all in all, the lover only veils Him; The BELOVED is all that lives, the lover a dead thing.

(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;

(1) What is it hinders me from expounding my doctrines But this, that my hearers' hearts incline elsewhere. Their thoughts are intent on that Sufi guest; So I am compelled to turn from my discourse To that story, and to set forth his condition. But, O friend, think not this Sufi a mere outward form, O son, our bodies are as dried grapes and raisins; If you are a man, cast away these things. If you pass on to the pure mysteries of God, Now hear the outward form of my story,

(121) In the cold it was a warm garment; Her lover's name accomplished all this through love. Strangers may pronounce the "pure name" of God, Yet it effects no such marvels, for they lack love. All that 'Isa accomplished by the name of Jehovah, Zulaikha attained through the name "Yusuf." When the soul is intimately united with God, Zulaikha was empty of self and filled with love of Yusuf, The scent of the saffron of union made her smile, Each to have in his heart a hundred meanings,