Passages similar to: The Masnavi — The Vakil of the Prince of Bokhara
1
Source passage
Sufi
The Masnavi
The Vakil of the Prince of Bokhara (162-171)
First hear this, that while I remained in absence, Secondly, hear this. O prince beloved, That I searched much, but found no second to thee. Thirdly, that when I had departed outside thee, Fourthly, when my harvest was burned up, Wheresoever thou findest blood on the roads, Trace it, and 'tis tears of blood from my eyes. My words are thunder, and these sighs and tears Shall I weep, or shall I speak, or what shall I do? If I speak, my weeping ceases;
How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain? Didst thou not know that man is happy here?" Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain, But, see...
(4) "Look at me well; in sooth I'm Beatrice! How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain? Didst thou not know that man is happy here?" Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain, But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass, So great a shame did weigh my forehead down. As to the son the mother seems superb, So she appeared to me; for somewhat bitter Tasteth the savour of severe compassion. Silent became she, and the Angels sang Suddenly, "In te, Domine, speravi:" But beyond 'pedes meos' did not pass. Even as the snow among the living rafters Upon the back of Italy congeals, Blown on and drifted by Sclavonian winds, And then, dissolving, trickles through itself Whene'er the land that loses shadow breathes, So that it seems a fire that melts a taper; E'en thus was I without a tear or sigh, Before the song of those who sing for ever After the music of the eternal spheres. But when I heard in their sweet melodies Compassion for me, more than had they said, "O wherefore, lady, dost thou thus upbraid him?"
Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me, That, if the dearest place be taken from me, I may not lose the others by my songs. Down through the wor...
(5) Yet would I not thy neighbours thou shouldst envy, Because thy life into the future reaches Beyond the punishment of their perfidies." When by its silence showed that sainted soul That it had finished putting in the woof Into that web which I had given it warped, Began I, even as he who yearneth after, Being in doubt, some counsel from a person Who seeth, and uprightly wills, and loves: "Well see I, father mine, how spurreth on The time towards me such a blow to deal me As heaviest is to him who most gives way. Therefore with foresight it is well I arm me, That, if the dearest place be taken from me, I may not lose the others by my songs. Down through the world of infinite bitterness, And o'er the mountain, from whose beauteous summit The eyes of my own Lady lifted me, And afterward through heaven from light to light, I have learned that which, if I tell again, Will be a savour of strong herbs to many. And if I am a timid friend to truth, I fear lest I may lose my life with those Who will hereafter call this time the olden."
"O thou who art beyond the sacred river," Turning to me the point of her discourse, That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen, She recommenced,...
(1) "O thou who art beyond the sacred river," Turning to me the point of her discourse, That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen, She recommenced, continuing without pause, "Say, say if this be true; to such a charge, Thy own confession needs must be conjoined." My faculties were in so great confusion, That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct Than by its organs it was set at large. Awhile she waited; then she said: "What thinkest? Answer me; for the mournful memories In thee not yet are by the waters injured." Confusion and dismay together mingled Forced such a Yes! from out my mouth, that sight Was needful to the understanding of it. Even as a cross-bow breaks, when 'tis discharged Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow, And with less force the arrow hits the mark, So I gave way beneath that heavy burden, Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs, And the voice flagged upon its passage forth. Whence she to me: "In those desires of mine Which led thee to the loving of that good, Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to,
That thou mayst free thee from this apprehension, I'll tell thee why I came, and what I heard At the first moment when I grieved for thee. Among...
(3) That thou mayst free thee from this apprehension, I'll tell thee why I came, and what I heard At the first moment when I grieved for thee. Among those was I who are in suspense, And a fair, saintly Lady called to me In such wise, I besought her to command me. Her eyes where shining brighter than the Star; And she began to say, gentle and low, With voice angelical, in her own language: 'O spirit courteous of Mantua, Of whom the fame still in the world endures, And shall endure, long-lasting as the world; A friend of mine, and not the friend of fortune, Upon the desert slope is so impeded Upon his way, that he has turned through terror, And may, I fear, already be so lost, That I too late have risen to his succour, From that which I have heard of him in Heaven. Bestir thee now, and with thy speech ornate, And with what needful is for his release, Assist him so, that I may be consoled. Beatrice am I, who do bid thee go; I come from there, where I would fain return; Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak.
Never to thee presented art or nature Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth. And if the highest...
(3) Never to thee presented art or nature Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth. And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee By reason of my death, what mortal thing Should then have drawn thee into its desire? Thou oughtest verily at the first shaft Of things fallacious to have risen up To follow me, who was no longer such. Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward To wait for further blows, or little girl, Or other vanity of such brief use. The callow birdlet waits for two or three, But to the eyes of those already fledged, In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot." Even as children silent in their shame Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground, And conscious of their fault, and penitent; So was I standing; and she said: "If thou In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard And thou shalt feel a greater pain in seeing." With less resistance is a robust holm Uprooted, either by a native wind Or else by that from regions of Iarbas,
"And if," continuing his first discourse, "They have that art," he said, "not learned aright, That more tormenteth me, than doth this bed. But fifty t...
(4) But the other, magnanimous, at whose desire I had remained, did not his aspect change, Neither his neck he moved, nor bent his side. "And if," continuing his first discourse, "They have that art," he said, "not learned aright, That more tormenteth me, than doth this bed. But fifty times shall not rekindled be The countenance of the Lady who reigns here, Ere thou shalt know how heavy is that art; And as thou wouldst to the sweet world return, Say why that people is so pitiless Against my race in each one of its laws?" Whence I to him: "The slaughter and great carnage Which have with crimson stained the Arbia, cause Such orisons in our temple to be made." After his head he with a sigh had shaken, "There I was not alone," he said, "nor surely Without a cause had with the others moved. But there I was alone, where every one Consented to the laying waste of Florence, He who defended her with open face." "Ah! so hereafter may your seed repose," I him entreated, "solve for me that knot, Which has entangled my conceptions here.
Many times, brother, has it come to pass, That, to escape from peril, with reluctance That has been done it was not right to do, E'en as Alcmaeon (who...
(5) And then thou from Piccarda might'st have heard Costanza kept affection for the veil, So that she seemeth here to contradict me. Many times, brother, has it come to pass, That, to escape from peril, with reluctance That has been done it was not right to do, E'en as Alcmaeon (who, being by his father Thereto entreated, his own mother slew) Not to lose pity pitiless became. At this point I desire thee to remember That force with will commingles, and they cause That the offences cannot be excused. Will absolute consenteth not to evil; But in so far consenteth as it fears, If it refrain, to fall into more harm. Hence when Piccarda uses this expression, She meaneth the will absolute, and I The other, so that both of us speak truth." Such was the flowing of the holy river That issued from the fount whence springs all truth; This put to rest my wishes one and all. "O love of the first lover, O divine," Said I forthwith, "whose speech inundates me And warms me so, it more and more revives me,
Sitteth the city, wherein I was born, Upon the sea-shore where the Po descends To rest in peace with all his retinue. Love, that on gentle heart doth...
(5) Sitteth the city, wherein I was born, Upon the sea-shore where the Po descends To rest in peace with all his retinue. Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize, Seized this man for the person beautiful That was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me. Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me; Love has conducted us unto one death; Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!" These words were borne along from them to us. As soon as I had heard those souls tormented, I bowed my face, and so long held it down Until the Poet said to me: "What thinkest?" When I made answer, I began: "Alas! How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire, Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!" Then unto them I turned me, and I spake, And I began: "Thine agonies, Francesca, Sad and compassionate to weeping make me. But tell me, at the time of those sweet sighs, By what and in what manner Love conceded, That you should know your dubious desires?"
O Ugolin de' Fantoli, secure Thy name is, since no longer is awaited One who, degenerating, can obscure it! But go now, Tuscan, for it now delights...
(6) O Ugolin de' Fantoli, secure Thy name is, since no longer is awaited One who, degenerating, can obscure it! But go now, Tuscan, for it now delights me To weep far better than it does to speak, So much has our discourse my mind distressed." We were aware that those beloved souls Heard us depart; therefore, by keeping silent, They made us of our pathway confident. When we became alone by going onward, Thunder, when it doth cleave the air, appeared A voice, that counter to us came, exclaiming: "Shall slay me whosoever findeth me!" And fled as the reverberation dies If suddenly the cloud asunder bursts. As soon as hearing had a truce from this, Behold another, with so great a crash, That it resembled thunderings following fast:
As unto those who are too reverential, Speaking in presence of superiors, Who drag no living utterance to their teeth, It me befell, that without...
(2) As unto those who are too reverential, Speaking in presence of superiors, Who drag no living utterance to their teeth, It me befell, that without perfect sound Began I: "My necessity, Madonna, You know, and that which thereunto is good." And she to me: "Of fear and bashfulness Henceforward I will have thee strip thyself, So that thou speak no more as one who dreams. Know that the vessel which the serpent broke Was, and is not; but let him who is guilty Think that God's vengeance does not fear a sop. Without an heir shall not for ever be The Eagle that left his plumes upon the car, Whence it became a monster, then a prey; For verily I see, and hence narrate it, The stars already near to bring the time, From every hindrance safe, and every bar, Within which a Five-hundred, Ten, and Five, One sent from God, shall slay the thievish woman And that same giant who is sinning with her. And peradventure my dark utterance, Like Themis and the Sphinx, may less persuade thee, Since, in their mode, it clouds the intellect;
"If they were banished, they returned on all sides," I answered him, "the first time and the second; But yours have not acquired that art aright."...
(3) "If they were banished, they returned on all sides," I answered him, "the first time and the second; But yours have not acquired that art aright." Then there uprose upon the sight, uncovered Down to the chin, a shadow at his side; I think that he had risen on his knees. Round me he gazed, as if solicitude He had to see if some one else were with me, But after his suspicion was all spent, Weeping, he said to me: "If through this blind Prison thou goest by loftiness of genius, Where is my son? and why is he not with thee?" And I to him: "I come not of myself; He who is waiting yonder leads me here, Whom in disdain perhaps your Guido had." His language and the mode of punishment Already unto me had read his name; On that account my answer was so full. Up starting suddenly, he cried out: "How Saidst thou,—he had? Is he not still alive? Does not the sweet light strike upon his eyes?" When he became aware of some delay, Which I before my answer made, supine He fell again, and forth appeared no more.
While I was doubting for my vision quenched, Out of the flame refulgent that had quenched it Issued a breathing, that attentive made me, Saying:...
(1) While I was doubting for my vision quenched, Out of the flame refulgent that had quenched it Issued a breathing, that attentive made me, Saying: "While thou recoverest the sense Of seeing which in me thou hast consumed, 'Tis well that speaking thou shouldst compensate it. Begin then, and declare to what thy soul Is aimed, and count it for a certainty, Sight is in thee bewildered and not dead; Because the Lady, who through this divine Region conducteth thee, has in her look The power the hand of Ananias had." I said: "As pleaseth her, or soon or late Let the cure come to eyes that portals were When she with fire I ever burn with entered. The Good, that gives contentment to this Court, The Alpha and Omega is of all The writing that love reads me low or loud." The selfsame voice, that taken had from me The terror of the sudden dazzlement, To speak still farther put it in my thought; And said: "In verity with finer sieve Behoveth thee to sift; thee it behoveth To say who aimed thy bow at such a target."
I wept not, I within so turned to stone; They wept; and darling little Anselm mine Said: 'Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?' Still not a...
(3) I wept not, I within so turned to stone; They wept; and darling little Anselm mine Said: 'Thou dost gaze so, father, what doth ail thee?' Still not a tear I shed, nor answer made All of that day, nor yet the night thereafter, Until another sun rose on the world. As now a little glimmer made its way Into the dolorous prison, and I saw Upon four faces my own very aspect, Both of my hands in agony I bit; And, thinking that I did it from desire Of eating, on a sudden they uprose, And said they: 'Father, much less pain 'twill give us If thou do eat of us; thyself didst clothe us With this poor flesh, and do thou strip it off.' I calmed me then, not to make them more sad. That day we all were silent, and the next. Ah! obdurate earth, wherefore didst thou not open? When we had come unto the fourth day, Gaddo Threw himself down outstretched before my feet, Saying, 'My father, why dost thou not help me?' And there he died; and, as thou seest me, I saw the three fall, one by one, between The fifth day and the sixth; whence I betook me,
What trenches lying traverse or what chains Didst thou discover, that of passing onward Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope? And what...
(2) What trenches lying traverse or what chains Didst thou discover, that of passing onward Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope? And what allurements or what vantages Upon the forehead of the others showed, That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them?" After the heaving of a bitter sigh, Hardly had I the voice to make response, And with fatigue my lips did fashion it. Weeping I said: "The things that present were With their false pleasure turned aside my steps, Soon as your countenance concealed itself." And she: "Shouldst thou be silent, or deny What thou confessest, not less manifest Would be thy fault, by such a Judge 'tis known. But when from one's own cheeks comes bursting forth The accusal of the sin, in our tribunal Against the edge the wheel doth turn itself. But still, that thou mayst feel a greater shame For thy transgression, and another time Hearing the Sirens thou mayst be more strong, Cast down the seed of weeping and attend; So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way My buried flesh should have directed thee.
Thus changed, it said to me: "The world possessed me Short time below; and, if it had been more, Much evil will be which would not have been. My...
(3) Thus changed, it said to me: "The world possessed me Short time below; and, if it had been more, Much evil will be which would not have been. My gladness keepeth me concealed from thee, Which rayeth round about me, and doth hide me Like as a creature swathed in its own silk. Much didst thou love me, and thou hadst good reason; For had I been below, I should have shown thee Somewhat beyond the foliage of my love. That left-hand margin, which doth bathe itself In Rhone, when it is mingled with the Sorgue, Me for its lord awaited in due time, And that horn of Ausonia, which is towned With Bari, with Gaeta and Catona, Whence Tronto and Verde in the sea disgorge. Already flashed upon my brow the crown Of that dominion which the Danube waters After the German borders it abandons; And beautiful Trinacria, that is murky 'Twixt Pachino and Peloro, (on the gulf Which greatest scath from Eurus doth receive,) Not through Typhoeus, but through nascent sulphur, Would have awaited her own monarchs still, Through me from Charles descended and from Rudolph,
Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great, That over sea and land thou beatest thy wings, And throughout Hell thy name is spread abroad! Among the...
(1) Rejoice, O Florence, since thou art so great, That over sea and land thou beatest thy wings, And throughout Hell thy name is spread abroad! Among the thieves five citizens of thine Like these I found, whence shame comes unto me, And thou thereby to no great honour risest. But if when morn is near our dreams are true, Feel shalt thou in a little time from now What Prato, if none other, craves for thee. And if it now were, it were not too soon; Would that it were, seeing it needs must be, For 'twill aggrieve me more the more I age. We went our way, and up along the stairs The bourns had made us to descend before, Remounted my Conductor and drew me. And following the solitary path Among the rocks and ridges of the crag, The foot without the hand sped not at all. Then sorrowed I, and sorrow now again, When I direct my mind to what I saw, And more my genius curb than I am wont, That it may run not unless virtue guide it; So that if some good star, or better thing, Have given me good, I may myself not grudge it.
Their litter let the beasts of Fesole Make of themselves, nor let them touch the plant, If any still upon their dunghill rise, In which may yet...
(4) Their litter let the beasts of Fesole Make of themselves, nor let them touch the plant, If any still upon their dunghill rise, In which may yet revive the consecrated Seed of those Romans, who remained there when The nest of such great malice it became." "If my entreaty wholly were fulfilled," Replied I to him, "not yet would you be In banishment from human nature placed; For in my mind is fixed, and touches now My heart the dear and good paternal image Of you, when in the world from hour to hour You taught me how a man becomes eternal; And how much I am grateful, while I live Behoves that in my language be discerned. What you narrate of my career I write, And keep it to be glossed with other text By a Lady who can do it, if I reach her. This much will I have manifest to you; Provided that my conscience do not chide me, For whatsoever Fortune I am ready. Such handsel is not new unto mine ears; Therefore let Fortune turn her wheel around As it may please her, and the churl his mattock."
A will benign, in which reveals itself Ever the love that righteously inspires, As in the iniquitous, cupidity, Silence imposed upon that dulcet...
(1) A will benign, in which reveals itself Ever the love that righteously inspires, As in the iniquitous, cupidity, Silence imposed upon that dulcet lyre, And quieted the consecrated chords, That Heaven's right hand doth tighten and relax. How unto just entreaties shall be deaf Those substances, which, to give me desire Of praying them, with one accord grew silent? 'Tis well that without end he should lament, Who for the love of thing that doth not last Eternally despoils him of that love! As through the pure and tranquil evening air There shoots from time to time a sudden fire, Moving the eyes that steadfast were before, And seems to be a star that changeth place, Except that in the part where it is kindled Nothing is missed, and this endureth little; So from the horn that to the right extends Unto that cross's foot there ran a star Out of the constellation shining there; Nor was the gem dissevered from its ribbon, But down the radiant fillet ran along, So that fire seemed it behind alabaster.
As came to Clymene, to be made certain Of that which he had heard against himself, He who makes fathers chary still to children, Even such was I, and...
(1) As came to Clymene, to be made certain Of that which he had heard against himself, He who makes fathers chary still to children, Even such was I, and such was I perceived By Beatrice and by the holy light That first on my account had changed its place. Therefore my Lady said to me: "Send forth The flame of thy desire, so that it issue Imprinted well with the internal stamp; Not that our knowledge may be greater made By speech of thine, but to accustom thee To tell thy thirst, that we may give thee drink." "O my beloved tree, (that so dost lift thee, That even as minds terrestrial perceive No triangle containeth two obtuse, So thou beholdest the contingent things Ere in themselves they are, fixing thine eyes Upon the point in which all times are present,) While I was with Virgilius conjoined Upon the mountain that the souls doth heal, And when descending into the dead world, Were spoken to me of my future life Some grievous words; although I feel myself In sooth foursquare against the blows of chance.
One and the selfsame tongue first wounded me, So that it tinged the one cheek and the other, And then held out to me the medicine; Thus do I hear...
(1) One and the selfsame tongue first wounded me, So that it tinged the one cheek and the other, And then held out to me the medicine; Thus do I hear that once Achilles' spear, His and his father's, used to be the cause First of a sad and then a gracious boon. We turned our backs upon the wretched valley, Upon the bank that girds it round about, Going across it without any speech. There it was less than night, and less than day, So that my sight went little in advance; But I could hear the blare of a loud horn, So loud it would have made each thunder faint, Which, counter to it following its way, Mine eyes directed wholly to one place. After the dolorous discomfiture When Charlemagne the holy emprise lost, So terribly Orlando sounded not. Short while my head turned thitherward I held When many lofty towers I seemed to see, Whereat I: "Master, say, what town is this?" And he to me: "Because thou peerest forth Athwart the darkness at too great a distance, It happens that thou errest in thy fancy.