(1) Another bird said to the Hoopoe: 'I believe that I have acquired for myself all the perfection that is possible, and I have acquired it by painful austerities. Since I have obtained here the result that I wish, it is difficult for me to set out for this place you speak of. Have you ever known anyone leave a treasure to go painfully wandering over the mountains, in the wilderness, and across the plains?'

The Hoopoe replied: 'O diabolical creature, full of conceit and self-pride! You who are sunk in egoism! You who have such an aversion to doing! You have been seduced by your imagination and you are now far from divine things. The body of desire has the upper hand of your spirit; the devil has stolen your brain. Pride has taken possession of you. The light you think you have in the Spiritual Way is only a flickering flame. Your taste for heavenly things is

imaginary. Do not let yourself be seduced by the glimmer which you see. So long as your body of desire confronts you, be aware of yourself. You must fight this enemy, sword in hand. When a false light shows itself from your body of desire you must look on it as the sting of a scorpion, for which you must use parsley. Do not despair because of the obscurity of the way which I shall show you, and because the light that you will see there will give you no pretension to be a companion of the sun. So long as you continue to live, O my dear, in the pride of life, your readings of books and your puny efforts are not worth an obol. Only when you give up this pride and vanity will you be able to leave this exterior life without regret. So long as you hold on to conceit and self-pride and the things of outer life, a hundred arrows of vexation will pierce you from every side.'

(1) Next came the golden Peacock, with feathers of a hundred - what shall I say? - a hundred thousand colours! He displayed himself, turning this way and that, like a bride. 'The painter of the world,' he said, 'to fashion me took in his hand the brush of the Jinn. But although I am Gabriel among birds my lot is not to be envied. I was friendly with the serpent in the earthly paradise, and for this was ignominiously driven out. They deprived me of a position of trust, they, who trusted me, and my feet were my prison. But I

am always hoping that some benevolent guide will lead me out of this dark abode and take me to the everlasting mansions. I do not expect to reach the king you speak of, it will suffice me to reach his gate. How can you expect me to strive to reach the Simurgh since I have lived in the earthly paradise? I have no wish except to dwell there again. Nothing else has any meaning for me.'

The Hoopoe replied: 'You are straying from the true Way. The palace of this King is far better than your paradise. You cannot do better than to strive to reach it. It is the habitation of the soul, it is eternity, it is the object of our real desires, the dwelling of the heart, the seat of truth. The Most High is a vast ocean; the paradise of earthly bliss is only a little drop; all that is not this ocean is distraction. When you can have the ocean why will you seek a drop of evening dew? Shall he who shares the secrets of the sun idle with a speck of dust? Is he who has all, concerned with the part? Is the soul concerned with members of the body? If you would be perfect seek the whole, choose the whole, be whole.'

(1) Another bird said to the Hoopoe: 'O you whose faith is sincere, I have not a breath of good will. I have spent my life in vexation, desiring the ball of the world. There is such a sadness in my heart that I never cease to mourn. I am always in a state of bewilderment and impotence; and when for a moment I have been content, then am I unbelieving. In consequence, I have become a dervish. But now I hesitate to start out on the road of spiritual knowledge. If my heart were not so full of sorrow I would be charmed with this journey. As it is I am in a state of perplexity. Now that I have put my case before you tell me what I ought to do.'

The Hoopoe said: 'You, who are given over to pride, who are swallowed up in self-pity, you do well to be disturbed. Seeing that the world passes, you yourself should pass it by. Abandon it, for whoever becomes identified with transient things can have no part in the things that are lasting. The sufferings you endure can be made glorious and not humiliating. That which in outward appearance is suffering can be a treasure for the seer. A hundred blessings will come to you if you make effort on the Path. But as you are, you are only a skin covering a dull brain.'

(1) Another bird said to the Hoopoe: 'I love gold; for me if is like the almond in its shell. If I do not have gold I am bound hand and foot. Love of worldly things and love of gold have

filled me with vain desires which blind me to spiritual things.'

The Hoopoe replied: "O you who are dazzled by exterior forms, in whose heart the value of real things never dawns! You are Like a man who can see only in the dark, a nyctalope; you are like an ant, attracted by appearances. Try to understand the sense of things. Without its colour gold would be an ordinary metal; yet you are seduced by colour, like a child. Love of gold is not becoming to a real man; why, they hide it in the vagina of a mule! Does one hide precious things in such a place? If you let no one benefit by your gold you will not profit either. But if you give an obol to some poor wretch, both of you will profit. If you have gold you can benefit many; but if your shoulder is marked, that also is because of gold. For a shop, you must pay rent and sometimes the price is your own soul. You sacrifice everything for your business, even those to whom you are most attached, and in the end you have nothing. We can only hope that fortune will leave a ladder under the gallows. It does not mean that you should make no use at all of the things of the world, but you should spend on all sides that which you possess. Good fortune will come to you only as you give. If you cannot renounce life completely you can at least free yourself from the love of riches and honours.'

(1) Another bird said to the Hoopoe: ' My heart is aglow with pleasure for I live in a charming spot. I have a golden palace, so beautiful that everyone admires it, and there I exist in a world of contentment. How can I be expected to give it up? In this palace I am as a king among birds, why then should I expose myself to hardships in the valleys of which you speak? Must I give up both my palace and my royalty?

No reasonable creature would forsake the garden of Irem to undertake so toilsome and difficult a journey!'

The Hoopoe replied: you who are without aspiration

and energy! Are you a dog? or do you wish to be an attendant in the hammam? This lower world is only a hot-room and your palace is part of it. Even if your palace is a paradise, nevertheless, death will one day turn it into a prison of suffering. Only if death ceases to exercise his power over creatures would it be expedient for you to remain content in your golden palace.'

A sage's jest concerning a palace A king built a palace which cost him a hundred thousand dinars. Outside it was adorned with gilded towers and cupolas, and the furniture and carpets made the interior a paradise. When it was finished he invited men from every country to visit him. They came and presented gifts, and he made them all sit down with him. Then he asked them: 'Tell me what you think of my palace. Has anything been forgotten which mars its beauty?' They all protested that never had there been such a palace on earth and never would its like be seen again. All, that is, except one, a Sage, who stood up and said: ' Sire, there is one small crevice which to me seems a blemish. Were it not for this blemish, paradise itself would bring gifts to you from the invisible world.'

'I don't see this blemish,' said the king angrily. 'You are an ignorant person and you only wish to make yourself important.' 'No, proud King,' replied the Sage. 'This chink of which I speak is that through which Azrael, the angel of death, will come. Would to God you could stop it up, for otherwise, what use is your gorgeous palace, your crown and your throne? When death comes the)'' will be as a handful of dust. Nothing lasts, and it is this which spoils the beauty of your dwelling. No art can make stable that which is unstable. Ah, do not put your hopes of happiness upon

a palace! Do not let the courser of your pride caracole. If no one dares speak plainly to the king and remind him of his faults, that is a great misfortune.'

(1) The Partridge next approached, graceful yet self-satisfied. Shyly she rises from her treasure of pearls in her garment of the dawn. With blood-rimmed eyes and red beak she flies with lightly-turning head, carrying her belt and sword.

She said: 'I like to wander among ruins for I love precious stones. They have lighted a fire in my heart and this satisfies me. When I burn with desire for them the pebbles I have swallowed become as if tinged with blood. But often I find myself between stones and fire, inactive and perplexed. O my friends, see how I live! Is it possible to awaken one who sleeps on stones and swallows gravel?

'My heart is wounded by a hundred sorrows because my love for precious stones has bound me to the mountain. Love for other things is transitory; the kingdom of the jewels is eternal, they are the essence of the everlasdng mountain. I know the mountains and the precious stones. With my belt and my sword I am always seeking the diamond, and I have yet to discover a substance of a loftier

nature than precious stones - even the pearl is not as beautiful. Also, the way to the Simurgh is difficult, and my feet are attached to the stones as if they were stuck in clay. How can I expect to go bravely into the presence of the mighty Simurgh, my hand on my head, my feet in the mud? Either I will die or I will discover precious stones. My nobility is evident, and he who does not share in my aim is not worth considering.'

The Hoopoe said: 'O you who have colours of all the stones, you limp a little and give lame excuses. Your heart's blood stains your claws and beak, and your search demeans you. What are jewels but coloured stones, yet the love of them hardens your heart. Without their colours they would be just ordinary little pebbles. He who possesses the perfume does not seek the colour; he who has the essence will not forsake it for the glitter of outward form. Seek the true jewel of sound quality and no longer be content with a stone.'

(1) Another bird said to the Hoopoe: ' I am effeminate, and can only hop from one branch to another. Sometimes I am wanton and dissolute, at other times I am abstinent. Sometimes my desires drag me to the taverns, sometimes my spirit draws me to prayer. Sometimes, in spite of myself, Satan leads me astray; at other times angels guide me back. Between these two I am in the pit and the prison; what can I do save lament, like Joseph?'

The Hoopoe replied: 'This happens to every man, according to his nature. If we had been guiltless from the beginning God would not have had to send his messengers and prophets. Through obedience you can attain felicity. O you who loll in the sweating room of indolence and yet are full of idle wishes, while you continue to feed the dog of desire your nature is worse than that of an impotent hermaphrodite.'

(1) The Owl came forward with a bewildered air and said: 'I have chosen for my dwelling a ruined and tumbledown house. I was born among the ruins and there I take my delight - but not in drinking wine. I know hundreds of habited places, but some are in a state of confusion and others in a state of hatred. He who wishes to live in peace

must go to the ruins, as the madmen do. If I mope among them it is because of hidden treasure. The love of treasure draws me there, for it is to be found among the ruins. Also, I can conceal my anxious quest, and hope to find a treasure that is not protected by a talisman; if my foot should light on one, my heart's desire will be achieved. I well believe that love toward the Simurgh is not a fable, for it is not experienced by the heedless; but I am feeble, and am far from being firm in his love, since I love only my treasure and my ruins.'

The Hoopoe said to him: 'O you who are drunk with love of riches, suppose you do find a treasure! Ah well, you will die on this treasure, and life will have slipped away without your having attained the high aim of which at least you are aware. Love of gold is a characteristic of infidels. He who makes an idol of gold is another Thare. Will you not, perhaps, become as one of the Samiri of the Israelites who made the golden calf? Don't you know that everyone who has been corrupted by the love of gold will on the day of resurrection have his face changed, like a false coin, to the likeness of a mouse?'

(1) Then came the Parrot with sugar in her beak, dressed in a garment of green, and round her neck a collar of gold. The hawk is but a gnat beside her brilliance; earth's green carpet is the reflection of her feathers, and her words are distilled sugar. Listen to her: 'Vile men whose hearts are iron have shut me in a cage, so charming am I. Held fast

in this prison I long for the source of the water of immortality guarded by Khizr. Like him I am clothed in green, for I am a Khizr among birds. I should like to go to the source of this water, but a moth has not strength to lift itself to the Simurgh's great wing; the spring of Khizr is enough for me.'

The Hoopoe replied: 'O you who have no idea of felicity! He who is not willing to renounce his life is no man. Life has been given to you so that for an instant you may have a worthy friend. Set out upon the Way, for you are not an almond you are only the shell. Join the company of worthy men and enter freely in their Way.'

(13) "What manner of bird is this?" cried Chuang Tzŭ. "With strong wings it does not fly away. With large eyes it does not see." So he picked up his skirts and strode towards it with his cross-bow, anxious to get a shot. Just then he saw a cicada enjoying itself in the shade, forgetful of all else. And he saw a mantis spring and seize it, forgetting in the act its own body, which the strange bird immediately pounced upon and made its prey. And this it was which had caused the bird to forget its own nature. "Alas!" cried Chuang Tzŭ with a sigh, "how creatures injure one another. Loss follows the pursuit of gain." So he laid aside his bow and went home, driven away by the park-keeper who wanted to know what business he had there. For three months after this, Chuang Tzŭ did not leave the house; and at length Lin Chü asked him, saying, "Master, how is it that you have not been out for so long?" "While keeping my physical frame," replied Chuang Tzŭ, "I lost sight of my real self. Gazing at muddy water, I lost sight of the clear abyss. Besides, I have learnt from the Master as follows:—"When you go into the world, follow its customs." Now when I strolled into the park at Tiao-ling, I forgot my real self. That strange bird which flew close past me to the chestnut grove, forgot its nature. The keeper of the chestnut grove took me for a thief. Consequently I have not been out." When Yang Tzŭ went to the Sung State, he passed a night at an inn.

(1) Another bird said to the Hoopoe: 'O most eminent bird, I am the slave of a charming being who has taken possession of me and deprived me of my reason. The image of her dear face is a thief of the great Path; she has put fire to the harvest of my life, and when I am absent from her I have not a moment's peace. Since my heart is on fire with passion I do not see how I can set out on this journey. I should have to cross the valleys and go through a hundred trials. Can I be expected to forsake this beauty to travel through scorching heat and bitter cold? I am too weak to go without her; and I am but the dust on her road. Such is my state. What can Ido?'

The Hoopoe replied: 'You are attached to visible things, and are head and foot in the suffering which follows from this. Sensual love is a game. Love which is inspired by passing beauty is itself fleeting. You are always comparing a body of blood and moods to the beauty of the moon. What is uglier than a body composed of flesh and bones? True beauty is hidden. Seek it then, in the invisible world. If the veil which hides the mysteries from our eyes should fall, nothing would be left in the world. AU visible forms would be reduced to nothing.'

(1) The Heron came in all haste and at once began to speak about himself. ' My charming house is near the sea among the lagoons, where none hears my song. I am so inoffensive that no one complains of me. Sad and melancholy, I stand pensively on the salt sea's verge, my heart filled with longing for the water, for if there were none what would become of me! But since I am not one of those who dwell in the sea, I am like to die, my lips parched, on its shore. Though the waters boil and the waves break at my feet, I cannot swallow a single drop; yet if the ocean should lose even a little of its water my heart would burn with vexation. For a creature such as I my passion for the sea is enough. I have not the strength to go in quest of the Simurgh, so I ask to be excused. How could one like me, who seeks only a drop of water, possibly attain union with the Simurgh?'

Said the Hoopoe: 'O ignorant of the sea, don't you know that it is full of crocodiles and other dangerous creatures? Sometimes its water is bitter, sometimes salt; sometimes it is calm, sometimes boisterous; always changing, never stable; sometimes it flows, sometimes it ebbs. Many great ones have been swallowed up in its abyss. The diver in its depths holds his breath lest he should be thrown up like a straw. The sea is an element devoid of loyalty. Do not trust it or it will end by submerging you. It is resdess because of its love for its friend. Sometimes it rolls great billows, sometimes it roars. Since the sea cannot find what it desires, how will you find

there a resting place for your heart! The ocean is a rill which rises in the way that leads to its friend; why then should you remain here content, and not strive to see the face of the Simurgh?'

(15) "The honours of this world are light as feathers, yet none estimate them at their true value. The misfortunes of this life are weighty as the earth itself, yet none can keep out of their reach. No more, no more, seek to influence by virtue. Beware, beware, move cautiously on! O ferns, O ferns, wound not my steps! Through my tortuous journey wound not my feet! Hills suffer from the trees they produce. Fat burns by its own combustibility. Cinnamon trees furnish food: therefore they are cut down. The lacquer tree is felled for use. All men know the use of useful things; but they do not know the use of useless things."

(2) Have you ever watched the spider and noted how fantastically she spends her time? With speed and foresight she spins her marvellous web, a house which she garnishes for her use. When the fly falls headlong into the web, she rushes up, sucks the little creature's blood and leaves the body to dry for use as food. Then, along comes the householder with a broom, and in an instant web, fly and spider are gone - all three!

The web represents the world; the fly, the subsistence which God has placed there for man. Even if all the world should fall to you, you may lose it in an instant. You arebut an infant on the path of understanding; yet you stand trifling outside the curtain. Do not strive after place and position if you have not eaten the brain of an ass. And know, heedless fool, that this world is given over to the bulls. He for whom drums and flags denote high dignity will never become a dervdsh; these things are but the whistling of the wind, of less value than the smallest coin. Curb the caracoling of the courser of your folly, and do not be deluded by the possession of power. As the panther is flayed, so your life will be snatched away.

Open the eye of true aspiration and discover the spiritual Path; put your feet in the Way of God and seek his celestial court. Once you have glimpsed that you will no longer be attached to the glitter of this world.

(3) A fly in search of honey saw a beehive in a garden. The desire for honey put her into such a state that you would have taken her for an Azad, and she called out: ' I will give an obol to anyone who will help me get into this hive.' Someone took pity on her, and for an obol helped her in. But no sooner was she in than her legs became stuck in the honey. Though she fluttered her wings and skipped about it became worse, and she moaned: 'This is tyranny, this is poison. I am caught. I gave an obol to get in but would gladly give two to get out. '

'In this Valley,' continued the Hoopoe, 'no one must remain inactive, and one must enter it only after having reached a certain stage of development. Now it is time to work instead of living in uncertainty and passing one's time heedlessly. Rouse yourself from apathy, renounce inner and outer attachments, and cross this difficult valley; for if you do not renounce them you will become more heedless than the worshippers of many gods, and you will never become self-sufficient,'

(" 4)

(1) The Hoopoe replied: 'O Nightingale, you who would stay behind dazzled by the exterior form of things, cease to delight in an attachment so deluding. The love of the Rose has many thorns; it has disturbed and dominated you. Although the Rose is fair, her beauty is soon gone. One who seeks self-perfection should not become the slave of a love so passing. If the smile of the Rose arouses your desire it will only fill your days and nights with lamentations. Forsake the Rose and blush for yourself: for she laughs at you with each new Spring and then she smiles no more.'

(3) "Your Highness' method of avoiding misfortune," said the philosopher of Shih-nan, "is but a shallow one. A handsome fox or a striped leopard will live in a mountain forest, hiding beneath some precipitous cliff. This is their repose. They come out at night and keep in by day. This is their caution. Though under the stress of hunger and thirst, they lie hidden, hardly venturing to slink secretly to the river bank in search of food. This is their resoluteness. Nevertheless, they do not escape the misfortune of the net and the trap. But what crime have they committed? 'Tis their skin which is the cause of their trouble; and is not the State of Lu your Highness' skin? I would have your Highness put away body and skin alike, and cleansing your heart and purging it of passion, betake yourself to the land where mortality is not.

(1) Then all the birds, one after another, began to make foolish excuses. If I do not repeat them, pardon me, reader, for it would take too long. But how can such birds hope to entangle the Simurgh in their claws? So the Hoopoe continued her discourse:

'He who prefers the Simurgh to his own life must struggle bravely with himself. If your gizzard will not digest a single grain how shall you share in the feasting of the Simurgh? When you hesitate over a sip of wine how will you drink a large cup, O paladin? If you have not the energy for an atom how shall you find the treasure of the sun? If you can drown in a drop of water, how will you go from the depths of the sea to the heavenly heights? This is not a simple perfume; and neither is it a task for him who has not a clean face,' When the birds had thought this over they again spoke to the Hoopoe: 'You have taken upon yourself the task of showing us the way, you, the best and most powerful of birds. But we are feeble, with neither down nor feathers, so how shall we be able at last to reach the Sublime Simurgh? If we should arrive it would be a miracle. Tell us something

about this marvellous Being by means of a similitude, or, blind as we are, we shall understand nothing of the mystery If there were some relation between this Being and ourselves it would be much easier for us to set out. But, as we see it, he may be compared to Solomon, and we to begging ants. How can an insect in the bottom of a pit mount up to the great Simurgh? Shall royalty be the portion of the beggar?'

(7) "Straight trees are the first felled. Sweet wells are soonest exhausted. And you, you make a show of your knowledge in order to startle fools. You cultivate yourself in contrast to the degradation of others. And you blaze along as though the sun and moon were under your arms; consequently, you cannot avoid trouble. "Formerly, I heard a very wise man say, Self-praise is no recommendation. In merit achieved there is deterioration. In fame achieved there is loss. Who can discard both merit and fame and become one with the rest? Tao pervades all things but is not seen. Tê moves through all things but its place is not known. In its purity and constancy, it may be compared with the purposeless. Remaining concealed, rejecting power, it works not for merit nor for fame. Thus, not censuring others, it is not censured by others. "And if the perfect man cares not for fame, why, Sir, should you take pleasure in it?" "Good indeed!" replied Confucius; and forthwith he took leave of his friends and dismissed his disciples and retired to the wilds, where he dressed himself in skins and serge and fed on acorns and chestnuts. He passed among the beasts and birds and they took no heed of him. And if so, how much more among men? Confucius asked Tzŭ Sang Hu, saying, "I have been twice expelled from Lu. My tree was cut down in Sung. I have been tabooed in Wei. I am a failure in Shang and Chou. I was surrounded between Ch'ên and Ts'ai. And in addition to all these troubles, my friends have separated from me and my disciples are gone. How is this?"

(4) The Hoopoe said: 'O you who are attached to the outward form of things and have no care for essential values, the Simurgh is a being whose royalty becomes him, because he is unique in power. No true king exercises his will foolishly. Such a one is faithful and forgiving. Though a worldly king may often be just, he can also be guilty of injustice. The nearer one is to him, the more delicate is one's position. A believer needs must offend a king, so his life is often in danger. Since a king is compared to a fire, keep away! O you who have lived near kings, take care I Listen to this: There was once a noble king who had a slave whose body was like silver. He loved him so much that he could not be parted from him for a moment. He gave him the most beautiful clothes and set him above his fellows. But the king sometimes amused himself with shooting arrows, and would place an apple on the head of his favourite and use it as a target. And when he loosed his arrow, the slave would go yellow with fear. One day, someone said to the slave: ''Why is your face the colour of gold? You are the favourite, then why this mortal pallor?" He replied: "If the king were to hit me instead of the apple, he would say: 'This slave is about the most useless thing in my court'; but when his arrow hits the mark everyone attributes it to his skill. As for me, in this painful situation, I can only hope that the king will continue to shoot straight!"'