(5) He led us on to where the rock was cleft; There smote upon my forehead with his wings, Then a safe passage promised unto me. As on the right hand, to ascend the mount Where seated is the church that lordeth it O'er the well-guided, above Rubaconte, The bold abruptness of the ascent is broken By stairways that were made there in the age When still were safe the ledger and the stave, E'en thus attempered is the bank which falls Sheer downward from the second circle there; But on this, side and that the high rock graze. As we were turning thitherward our persons, "Beati pauperes spiritu," voices Sang in such wise that speech could tell it not. Ah me! how different are these entrances From the Infernal! for with anthems here One enters, and below with wild laments. We now were hunting up the sacred stairs, And it appeared to me by far more easy Than on the plain it had appeared before. Whence I: "My Master, say, what heavy thing Has been uplifted from me, so that hardly Aught of fatigue is felt by me in walking?"

(3) "How is this?" was the answer; "should one wish To mount by night would he prevented be By others? or mayhap would not have power?" And on the ground the good Sordello drew His finger, saying, "See, this line alone Thou couldst not pass after the sun is gone; Not that aught else would hindrance give, however, To going up, save the nocturnal darkness; This with the want of power the will perplexes. We might indeed therewith return below, And, wandering, walk the hill-side round about, While the horizon holds the day imprisoned." Thereon my Lord, as if in wonder, said: "Do thou conduct us thither, where thou sayest That we can take delight in tarrying." Little had we withdrawn us from that place, When I perceived the mount was hollowed out In fashion as the valleys here are hollowed. "Thitherward," said that shade, "will we repair, Where of itself the hill-side makes a lap, And there for the new day will we await." 'Twixt hill and plain there was a winding path Which led us to the margin of that dell, Where dies the border more than half away.

(1) Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear. So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, Speak will I of the other things I saw there. I cannot well repeat how there I entered, So full was I of slumber at the moment In which I had abandoned the true way. But after I had reached a mountain's foot, At that point where the valley terminated, Which had with consternation pierced my heart, Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders, Vested already with that planet's rays Which leadeth others right by every road. Then was the fear a little quieted That in my heart's lake had endured throughout The night, which I had passed so piteously. And even as he, who, with distressful breath, Forth issued from the sea upon the shore, Turns to the water perilous and gazes;

(2) One climbs Sanleo and descends in Noli, And mounts the summit of Bismantova, With feet alone; but here one needs must fly; With the swift pinions and the plumes I say Of great desire, conducted after him Who gave me hope, and made a light for me. We mounted upward through the rifted rock, And on each side the border pressed upon us, And feet and hands the ground beneath required. When we were come upon the upper rim Of the high bank, out on the open slope, "My Master," said I, "what way shall we take?" And he to me: "No step of thine descend; Still up the mount behind me win thy way, Till some sage escort shall appear to us." The summit was so high it vanquished sight, And the hillside precipitous far more Than line from middle quadrant to the centre. Spent with fatigue was I, when I began: "O my sweet Father! turn thee and behold How I remain alone, unless thou stay!" "O son," he said, "up yonder drag thyself," Pointing me to a terrace somewhat higher, Which on that side encircles all the hill.

(1) And the high mountains shall be shaken, And the high hills shall be made low, And shall melt like wax before the flame

(51) He saw it was formed of a bright emerald, Forming as it were a ring round the world, He said, "Thou mighty hill, what are other hills? Before thee they are mere playthings." The Mount replied, "Those hills are my veins, A hidden vein from me runs to every city, When God desires an earthquake under any city, Then in anger I shake that vein When He says, 'Enough,' my vein remains still, I remain still, and then haste to perform my work.

(4) Afterwards, about that wonderful shaking out from the earth, they say that a great mountain is the knot of lands; and the passage for the waters within the mountains is the root which is below the mountains; they forsake the upper parts so that they may flow into it, just as the roots of trees pass into the earth; a counterpart (ângunî-aîtak) of the blood in the arteries of men, which gives strength to the whole body.

Notwithstanding the clear evidence of God's bounty, engendering these spiritual states in men, philosophers and learned men, wise in their own conceit, obstinately shut their eyes to it, and look afar off for what is really close to them, so that they incur the penalty of "being branded on the nostrils," adjudged against unbelievers. This is illustrated by the story of a poor Faqir who prayed to God that he might be fed without being obliged to work for his food. A divine voice came to him in his sleep and directed him to go to the house of a certain scribe and take a certain writing that he should find there. He did so, and on reading the writing found that it contained directions for finding a hidden treasure. The directions were as follows: "Go outside the city to the dome which covers the tomb of the martyr; turn your back to the tomb and your face towards Mecca, place an arrow in your bow, and where the arrow falls there dig for the treasure." But before the Faqir had time to commence the search the rumor of the writing and its contents had reached the king, who at once sent and took it away from the Faqir, and began to search for the treasure on his own account. After shooting many arrows and digging in all directions the king failed to find the treasure, and got weary of searching, and returned the writing to the Faqir. Then the Faqir tried what he could do, but failed altogether to hit the spot where the treasure was buried. At last, despairing of success by his own unaided efforts, he cast his care upon God, and implored the divine assistance. Then a voice from heaven came to him, saying, "You were directed to fix an arrow on your bow, but not to draw your bow with all your might, as you have been doing. Shoot as gently as possible, that the arrow may fall close to you, for the hidden treasure is indeed 'nearer to you than your neck-vein.' " Men overlook the spiritual treasures close to them, and for this reason it is that prophets have no honor in their own countries, as is illustrated by the cases of the saint Abu-'l-Hasan Khirqani and the Prophet Hud or Heber.

(1) NO Money, nor goods, nor Art, nor Power, can bring you to the eternal Rest of the eternal soft Meekness of Paradise, but only the noble Knowledge; into that you may wrap up your Soul. That is the Pearl which no Moth can eat, nor Thief can steal away; therefore seek after it, and then you will find the noble Treasure.

(52) And these mountains which thine eyes have seen, The mountain of iron, and the mountain of copper, and the mountain of silver, And the mountain of gold, and the mountain of soft metal, and the mountain of lead, All these shall be in the presence of the Elect One As wax: before the fire, And like the water which streams down from above [upon those mountains], And they shall become powerless before his feet.

(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?'

(5) For 'twere not fitting that the eye o'ercast By any mist should go before the first Angel, who is of those of Paradise. This little island round about its base Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it, Doth rushes bear upon its washy ooze; No other plant that putteth forth the leaf, Or that doth indurate, can there have life, Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks. Thereafter be not this way your return; The sun, which now is rising, will direct you To take the mount by easier ascent." With this he vanished; and I raised me up Without a word, and wholly drew myself Unto my Guide, and turned mine eyes to him. And he began: "Son, follow thou my steps; Let us turn back, for on this side declines The plain unto its lower boundaries." The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour Which fled before it, so that from afar I recognised the trembling of the sea. Along the solitary plain we went As one who unto the lost road returns, And till he finds it seems to go in vain.

(6) Upon this side he fell down out of heaven; And all the land, that whilom here emerged, For fear of him made of the sea a veil, And came to our hemisphere; and peradventure To flee from him, what on this side appears Left the place vacant here, and back recoiled." A place there is below, from Beelzebub As far receding as the tomb extends, Which not by sight is known, but by the sound Of a small rivulet, that there descendeth Through chasm within the stone, which it has gnawed With course that winds about and slightly falls. The Guide and I into that hidden road Now entered, to return to the bright world; And without care of having any rest We mounted up, he first and I the second, Till I beheld through a round aperture Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear; Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.

(2) "We have no names," they answered, "we are nothing more than shooters of blowguns and hunters with bird-traps on the mountains. We are poor and we have nothing, young man. We only walk over the large and small mountains, young man, and we have just seen a large mountain, over there where you see the pink sky. It really rises up very high and overlooks the tops of all the hills. So it is that we have not been able to catch even one or two of the birds on it, boy. But, is it true that you can level all the mountains?" Hunahpú and Xbalanqué asked Cabracán. "Have you really seen the mountain of which you speak? Where is it? If I see it, I shall demolish it. Where did you see it?" "Over there it is, where the sun rises," said Hunahpú and Xbalanqué. "Very well, show me the road," he said to the two boys.

(46) Therefore seek for the noble Pearl; it is much more precious than this [whole] World; it will never more depart from you: And where the Pearl is, there will your Heart be also: You need not here ask any further after Paradise, Joy, and the heavenly Delightfulness; seek but the Pearl, and when you find that, then you find Paradise, and the Kingdom of Heaven, and you will be so taught, as being without it you cannot believe.

(7) "No," he answered," because he was going up and I almost caught him. But perhaps it would be good if I go in from above," he added. And then he entered again from above, but as he was almost inside, with only the soles of his feet showing, the great hill slid and fell slowly down on his chest. Zipacná never returned and he was changed into stone. In this way Zipacná was defeated by the two boys, Hunahpú and Xbalanqué; he was the elder son of Vucub-Caquix, and he, according to the ancient legend, was the one who made the mountains. At the foot of the hill called Meaguán he was vanquished. Only by a miracle was he vanquished, the second of the arrogant ones. One was left, whose history we shall tell now.

(1) As the evil spirit rushed in, the earth shook, and the substance of mountains was created in the earth.

(11) Unto that mountain is given the protection of the waters, so that water streams forth from there, in the rivulet channels, to the land of the seven regions, as the source of all the sea-water in the land of the seven regions is from there.

(6) So eager did I render my companions, With this brief exhortation, for the voyage, That then I hardly could have held them back. And having turned our stern unto the morning, We of the oars made wings for our mad flight, Evermore gaining on the larboard side. Already all the stars of the other pole The night beheld, and ours so very low It did not rise above the ocean floor. Five times rekindled and as many quenched Had been the splendour underneath the moon, Since we had entered into the deep pass, When there appeared to us a mountain, dim From distance, and it seemed to me so high As I had never any one beheld. Joyful were we, and soon it turned to weeping; For out of the new land a whirlwind rose, And smote upon the fore part of the ship. Three times it made her whirl with all the waters, At the fourth time it made the stern uplift, And the prow downward go, as pleased Another, Until the sea above us closed again."

(17) And they brought me to the place of darkness, and to a mountain the point of whose summit reached to heaven.