(9) When the desire for silence comes, not a single thought arises; he who is looking inward suddenly forgets that he looks. At this time, body and heart must be left completely free. All entanglements disappear without trace. Then I no longer know at what place the house of my spirit and my crucible are. If a man wants to make certain of his body, he cannot get at it. This condition is the penetration of Heaven into Earth, the time when all wonders return to their roots.

(1) Tzŭ Ch'i of Nan-kuo sat leaning on a table. Looking up to heaven, he sighed and became absent, as though soul and body had parted. Yen Ch'êng Tzŭ Yu, who was standing by him, exclaimed, "What are you thinking about that your body should become thus like dry wood, your mind like dead ashes? Surely the man now leaning on the table is not he who was here just now." "My friend," replied Tzŭ Ch'i, "your question is apposite. To-day I have buried myself.... Do you understand?... Ah! perhaps you only know the music of Man, and not that of Earth. Or even if you have heard the music of Earth, you have not heard the music of Heaven." "Pray explain," said Tzŭ Yu. "The breath of the universe," continued Tzŭ Ch'i, "is called wind. At times, it is inactive. But when active, every aperture resounds to the blast. Have you never listened to its growing roar? "Caves and dells of hill and forest, hollows in huge trees of many a span in girth;—these are like nostrils, like mouths, like ears, like beam-sockets, like goblets, like mortars, like ditches, like bogs. And the wind goes rushing through them, sniffing, snoring, singing, soughing, puffing, purling, whistling, whirring, now shrilly treble, now deeply bass, now soft, now loud; until, with a lull, silence reigns supreme. Have you never witnessed among the trees such a disturbance as this?"

(4) People see his pleasure-ground; Him no one sees at all. " Therefore one should not wake him suddenly," they say. Hard is the curing for a man to whom He does not return. Now some people say: " That is just his waking state, for whatever things he sees when awake, those too he sees when asleep." [This is not so, for] there [i.e. in sleep] the person Is self-illuminated/ [Janaka said:] < I will give you, noble Sir, a thousand [cows]. Declare what is higher than this, for my release [from trans- migration].'

(134) If, like a shattered metal plate (gong), thou utter not, then thou hast reached Nirvâna; contention is not known to thee.

(12) "That which can be seen with the eye is form and colour; that which can be heard with the ear is sound and noise. But alas! the people of this generation think that form, and colour, and sound, and noise, are means by which they can come to understand the essence of Tao. This is not so. And as those who know, do not speak, while those who speak do not know, whence should the world derive its knowledge?" was one day reading in his hall, when a wheelwright who was working below, flung down his hammer and chisel, and mounting the steps said, "What words may your Highness be studying?" "I am studying the words of the Sages," replied the Duke. "Are the Sages alive?" asked the wheelwright. "No," answered the Duke; "they are dead." "Then the words your Highness is studying," rejoined the wheelwright, "are only the dregs of the ancients." "What do you mean, sirrah!" cried the Duke, "by interfering with what I read? Explain yourself, or you shall die." "Let me take an illustration," said the wheelwright, "from my own trade. In making a wheel, if you work too slowly, you can't make it firm; if you work too fast, the spokes won't fit in. You must go neither too slowly nor too fast. There must be co-ordination of mind and hand. Words cannot explain what it is, but there is some mysterious art herein. I cannot teach it to my son; nor can he learn it from me. Consequently, though seventy years of age, I am still making wheels in my old age. If the ancients, together with what they could not impart, are dead and gone, then what your Highness is studying must be the dregs."

(2) I think he thought that I perhaps might think So many voices issued through those trunks From people who concealed themselves from us; Therefore the Master said: "If thou break off Some little spray from any of these trees, The thoughts thou hast will wholly be made vain." Then stretched I forth my hand a little forward, And plucked a branchlet off from a great thorn; And the trunk cried, "Why dost thou mangle me?" After it had become embrowned with blood, It recommenced its cry: "Why dost thou rend me? Hast thou no spirit of pity whatsoever? Men once we were, and now are changed to trees; Indeed, thy hand should be more pitiful, Even if the souls of serpents we had been." As out of a green brand, that is on fire At one of the ends, and from the other drips And hisses with the wind that is escaping; So from that splinter issued forth together Both words and blood; whereat I let the tip Fall, and stood like a man who is afraid. "Had he been able sooner to believe," My Sage made answer, "O thou wounded soul, What only in my verses he has seen,

(5) Shaikh Mahnah was in a state of great perplexity, his heart broken in two, when he saw in the distance an old villager of pious appearance, walking leisurely, while from his body emanated a bright light. The shaikh saluted him and then

told him about the sad state he was in. The old villager listened, and after thinking a little said: 'O Bu Sa'id, if they were to fill with millet, not once but a hundred times, the space from lowest earth to the throne of God, and if a bird took one grain of millet in a thousand years, and then flew a hundred times round the world, even in all that time your soul would have no news of the celestial court and Bu Sa'id would still be far off.'

Great patience is necessary for those who suffer; but no one is patient. When the quest is diverted from the inner to the outer, even if it should extend over the universe, in the end it will be unsatisfying. He who is not engaged in the quest of the inner life is no more than an animal - what shall I say? He does not even exist, he is a non-entity, a form without a soul.

(4) A Sufi heard a man cry out: 'Has anyone found a key? My door is locked and I stand in the dust of the road. If my door stays shut what shall I do?'

The Sufi said to him: 'Why do you worry? Since it is your door, stay near to it, even though it be shut. If you have patience to wait long enough no doubt someone will open

it for you. Your situation is better than mine for I have neither door nor key. Would to God that I could find a door, open or shut.'

Man lives in a state of imagination, in a dream; no one sees things as they are. To him who says to you: 'What shall I do?' say to him: 'Do not do as you have always done; do not act as you have always acted.' He who enters the Valley of Astonishment has enough sorrow for a hundred worlds. For myself, I am bewildered and gone astray. Whither shall I direct my steps? Would to God I knew! But, remember; the groans of men bring down mercy.

(4) Verily, while he does not there hear, he is verily hearing, though he does not hear (what is [usually] to be heard) 1; for there is no cessation of the hearing of a hearer, because of his imperishability [as a hearer]. It is not, however, a second thing, other than himself and separate, which he may hear.

(3) A lover, uneasy, troubled in his mind, and worn out with sighing, fell asleep on the mound of a grave. His mistress coming upon him and finding him asleep wrote a note and pinned it to his cloak. When he woke and read what she had written he groaned with anguish, for it said: 'O dumb man! rise up, and if you are a merchant, do business and get money; if you are an ascetic, wake at night and pray to God and be his slave. But if you are a lover, be ashamed of yourself. What has sleep to do with a lover's eyes? By day he measures the wind; at night his burning heart lights up his face with the brightness of the moon. As you are no such man, no longer boast of loving me. If a man can sleep elsewhere than in his shroud I may call him a lover - but, of himself.'

(3) For scarcely could anything which they could hear be more ludicrous than these to the multitude; nor any subjects on the other hand more admirable or more inspiring to those of noble nature. "But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness to him." But the wise do not utter with their mouth what they reason in council. "But what ye hear in the ear," says the Lord, "proclaim upon the houses;" bidding them receive the secret traditions of the true knowledge, and expound them aloft and conspicuously; and as we have heard in the ear, so to deliver them to whom it is requisite; but not enjoining us to communicate to all without distinction, what is said to them in parables. But there is only a delineation in the memoranda, which have the truth sowed sparse and broadcast, that it may escape the notice of those who pick up seeds like jackdaws; but when they find a good husbandman, each one of them will germinate and produce corn.

(100) Even though a speech be a thousand (of words), but made up of senseless words, one word of sense is better, which if a man hears, he becomes quiet.

(52) After this, do you think it will be easy to arrive at a knowledge of spiritual things? It means no less than to die to everything. What shall I say further, since there is nothing more to say, and there remains not a rose on the bush! O Wisdom! You are no more than a suckling child; and the reason of the old and experienced strays in this quest. How shall I, a fool, be able to arrive at this Essence; and if I should arrive, how shall I be able to enter in by the door? O Holy Creator! Vivify my spirit! Believers and unbelievers are equally plunged in blood, and my head turns as the heavens, I am not without hope but I am impatient.

(1) The Hoopoe continued: 'After the valley of which I have spoken, there comes another - The Valley of Understanding, which has neither beginning nor end. No way is equal to this way, and the distance to be travelled to cross it is beyond reckoning.

'Understanding, for each traveller, is enduring; but knowledge is temporary. The soul, like the body, is in a state of progress or decline; and the Spiritual Way reveals itself only in the degree to which the traveller has overcome his faults and weaknesses, his sleep and his inertia, and each will approach nearer to his aim according to his effort. Even if a gnat were to fly with all its might could it equal the speed of the wind? There are different ways of crossing this Valley, and all birds do not fly alike. Understanding can be arrived at variously - some have found the Mihrab, others the idol. When the sun of understanding brightens this road each receives light according to his merit and he finds the degree assigned to him in the understanding of truth. When the mystery of the essence of beings reveals itself clearly to him

the furnace of this world becomes a garden of flowers. He who is striving will be able to see the almond in its hard shell. He will no longer be pre-occupied with himself, but will look up at the face of his friend. In each atom he will see the whole; he will ponder over thousands of bright secrets.

' But, how many have lost their way in this search for one who has found the mysteries! It is necessary to have a deep and lasting wish to become as we ought to be in order to cross this difficult valley. Once you have tasted the secrets you will have a real wish to understand them. But, whatever you may attain, never forget the words of the Koran, "Is there anything more?"

'As for you who are asleep I cannot commend you for this), why not put on mourning? You, who have not seen the beauty of your friend, get up and search! How long will you stay as you are, like a donkey without a halter! '