by Hakim Sanai of Ghazna
The Hadiqa al-Haqiqa wa Sharia al-Tariqa — "The Walled Garden of Truth and the Law of the Path" — is the masterwork of Hakim Sanai of Ghazna (~1080–1131 CE), the first of the great Sufi masnavi poets and the direct predecessor of both Attar and Rumi. Book III is the longest chapter in the Hadiqa, spanning fifty sections and approximately 1,845 couplets. It is the poem's great prophetic book — beginning with an extended na't (praise-hymn) of the Prophet Muhammad, rising through the Mi'raj (Night Ascension), descending through the four Rightly Guided Caliphs and the martyrdoms of the Imams Hasan and Husayn at Karbala, then broadening into meditation on law, asceticism, knowledge, and the dangers of ignorance.
Where Book I established the unity of God and Book II established the Quran as divine speech, Book III establishes the prophetic channel through which that unity and that speech entered the world. For Sanai, the Prophet is not merely a historical figure but a cosmic principle — the first thing created, the final thing sent, the purpose for which Adam was made. The caliphs and imams who follow are extensions of that light, and the scholars and saints who carry it forward are its living proof. The chapter's final sections turn this praise inward, asking what knowledge is worth having and what ignorance must be shed.
No freely available English translation of Book III exists. This is the first. The source text is from Ganjoor.net, the principal digital archive of classical Persian poetry. Blood Rule satisfied: translated directly from the Ganjoor Persian text. No existing English translation was consulted during this work.
I. In Praise of Our Prophet Muhammad the Chosen
اندر نعت پیامبر ما محمد مصطفی علیهالسلام و فضیلت وی بر جمیع پیغمبران — In praise of our Prophet Muhammad the Chosen, peace be upon him, and his excellence over all the prophets.
Ahmad the Messenger, that lamp of the world —
mercy to creation, both the seen and the unseen.
He came into the world of every soul —
the soul of souls: Muhammad came, and he alone.
When upon the shining sphere there smiled
the Sun of the Everlasting Felicity,
no man's foot in all the horizons
had stepped upon the Covenant as his did.
That sphere — what is it? The court of eternity.
Its sun — who is it? Ahmad the Messenger.
Humankind live by his spirit;
the prophets have all become his guests.
The heavens surrendered to his law
and built their house upon the roof of the highest sphere.
He entered the court of God
with the hem of lordship trailing at his feet.
Before him the lower world bowed down,
coming alive like the mosque of Dhul-Nun.
The cream of Adam's pure spirit — from him;
the virgin meaning of the firm Word — from him.
The wise soul beheld the world through him
and chose him above its own self.
The prophets poured out their gold upon him —
whatever coin they held, they laid at his feet.
Since the night of nonexistence gave birth to the dawn of being,
no sun has had a companion like him.
All are students and he their teacher;
all are labourers and he their architect.
He was a head and intellect his neck;
he was a heart and the prophets his body.
The heart rules the body with ease —
a host to the animal spirit.
His palace stands in the domain of sanctity;
its courtyard is the roof of the house of Idris.
The threshold of his gate, in the garden of intimacy,
has been the orchard of the spirit of the Holy Spirit.
With the King he displayed the peacock plumage
of splendour in the garden of holiness.
His soul read, before the coming of the scroll,
the alphabet of the Everlasting from the tablet of God.
His secret recited the chapter of Devotion;
his heart rode the steed of Purity.
The hand of his virtue seized the ball;
his rank set its foot upon the head.
The particular world has its order through him;
the purpose of the Universal Soul is perfected through him.
Eternity measured out his step —
the being of all existence and its nonbeing.
The Maker of the Tablet and the Pen
granted him oversight of all the world.
His step in eternity has not grown weary;
his companion in forever has not rested.
His knowledge is the host of the world of bounty;
his law is the guardian of the City of God.
He came from the Lord to the land of Arabia
with the Fountain of Life upon his lips.
Both Arab and Persian are subject to him —
all seeking morsels of mercy at his door.
A receiver like Abu Bakr within his embrace,
a champion like Haydar at his gate.
The bounty of God's grace was his nurse;
the majesty of the Huma's shadow was his shade.
The sky was all eyes like the moist narcissus;
intellect was all ears like the jasmine.
His soul beheld from the heaven of eternity
the birth of intellect, and Adam, and the world —
rather, more than intellect, his heart
saw the handiwork of God in his clay.
Gabriel the Trustworthy said to him
at the time of revelation and awe: "Be not hasty."
Like a portrait of his own form,
the events of the Unseen lay before him.
Through grace and light he made a garden —
the east and west of eternity within his heart.
II. On the Beginning of the Perfection of Prophethood
اندر بدایت کمال نبوت — On the beginning of the perfection of prophethood.
Adam — and all who had the fragrance of soul —
kept the foot of his hem upon their collar.
Adam was born of the mother of nonexistence;
he was a lamp sent forth to Adam.
God placed the Unseen within his heart
and kneaded the Water of Life into his clay.
His eye, in the resting-place of sleep,
lifted the veil all the way to the Throne.
His soul was, on the path of God,
the jewel of the Presence of Ultimate Truth.
He saw, through the heart's eye, by the light of the One,
from the window of eternity the mansion of forever.
He memorised, in the school of manhood,
the chapter of the way of chivalry.
I do not say he knew the Unseen —
though from all eyes he was hidden.
The Knower of the Unseen in the womb of "Be and it was"
is none but the Creator of earth and sky.
Did not his tongue, when proclaiming the decree,
say: "If you knew what I know" —
because God showed to his soul and heart
the mysteries of everlasting truth?
Through following him, all the way to Ayyuq
went the ugly and the beautiful, the follower and the forerunner.
He is the king over the world of Adam;
he is the guide toward the Greatest Kingdom.
His nature became the adornment of the world;
his countenance became the comfort of souls.
When he set his tongue running on the letter
so that Khosrow might rest in peace,
his felicity released him from wretchedness,
and from happiness kept him apart from error.
When Khosrow's eye fell upon the heading,
the sweet nectar of Anushirvan's soul turned to poison.
When his law was seated upon Ayyuq,
the chain of the glory of Yaguth was broken.
From his radiance, the sign of Khosrow —
the summit of the arch of the palace of Khosrow — fell.
Dancing, the bride of primordial love:
Lat and Hubal toppled headfirst.
He gave justice to all creation —
the glory of the beloved and the abasement of the lover.
The kingdom of the body is ruined by his wrath;
the kingdom of the soul is built up by his faith.
His cornelian and ruby — for the sake of honour and glory —
made ears into the shape of a seashell.
As long as day is bright and night is black,
his tresses and face intercede for every sin.
For the sake of nursing from his lips,
for the sake of the offspring of his steed,
for the sake of his form and his heart and his spirit,
before the decree of his address and command,
the Universal Intellect was in his schoolroom;
the Universal Soul rocked his cradle.
His substance was the accident of this mansion;
yet the accident of paradise was his purpose.
On the day of Badr and Hunayn, against the demon,
his form was the chapter of the Two Refuges.
III. On the Miracle of Prophethood
اندر کرامت نبوت — On the miracle and grace of prophethood.
If the angel became a demon in the time of Adam,
the demon in his era became an angel too.
No petitioner, in gladness or in anger,
ever saw the word "no" in his brow.
A fresh seer, a pearl-speaker —
no seeker ever sought any pearl but his.
Unbelief bore witness upon his every hair;
intellect came begging at his lane.
Dust-scatterers, heaven-adorners — from him;
the half-done brought to full completion — from him.
His lips and teeth, in refusal and in giving,
were the teeth of the key of generosity.
His lips turned, along the paths of doubt,
the face of hearts toward the window of the Unseen.
He gives creation the way of the right;
the shadow draws its substance from the sun.
His honour — for the sake of every word and speech —
made a Dihya out of Gabriel himself.
Gabriel, through the grace of his road,
became the king of kings over all the angels.
Adam's eyes grew bright through him;
his soul was gladdened by such a son.
Singular in the realm of sovereignty,
united with the glory of omnipotence.
The fragrance of his remembrance is the food of the angel's spirit;
the length of his life is the axis of the turning sky.
His worth is the roof of the highest heaven;
his nature is the snare of Gabriel the Trustworthy.
He was a gift from the lofty age —
born, the cream of the lofty world.
He is the kingdom-bestowing father of the world;
he is the fortunate son of Adam.
Adam through him became a son to his father,
and through nobility became his son.
His soul flew up beyond water and clay;
he saw the Friend through the window of the heart.
The turning sphere is more abundant than his rose —
the east and west of eternity within his heart.
Creation has drawn honour and glory from him;
he was the pearl, and the prophets the shell.
IV. On the Prophet as Mercy to the Worlds
در ذکر آنکه پیغمبر ما رحمة للعالمین است — On the fact that our Prophet is a mercy to all the worlds.
The hardship of water and clay in this world —
his mercy has been named by the favour of eternity.
The worth of the Night of Power is from his clay;
the light of the Day of Resurrection is from his heart.
The ring of rings hangs upon a single hair of his;
the guardian of all laws is upon the page of his face.
The secret of God is the veil of his sanctuaries;
the Universal Soul is the form of his virtues.
The throne of his love rests upon the heaven of glory;
his root and branch are full of all the arts of perfection.
The purpose of "Be!" from the decree in eternity was he;
the first of thought and the last of deeds was he.
He was the first in creation and form,
and came last for the sake of the call.
In the garden of the enclosure of intimacy,
his mother was the Command, his nurse the Holy Spirit.
His stature — whoever saw it, from its beauty and splendour —
made the upright cypress its servant.
His complexion would make the moon bloom like a rose;
his fragrance would put musk to shame.
The throat of creation exists for the collar of his glory;
the nature of creation is the breeze from the dust of his gate.
The new earth became the burden of his branch;
the Throne was overcome by his law.
Upright in stature like the free cypress,
the sun-crest of human intellect.
The truthful dawn never saw upon the road
a sun like him beneath the dome of the moon.
Law and faith are his four elements and six directions;
intellect and soul are the jewels of his two tresses.
Seventeen hairs like stars in a garden,
and the rest as black as a raven's wing.
In those tresses — black and white —
intellect has sewn its purses of hope.
He made his lineage the twin of eternity;
his courtesy became the companion of forever.
V. On the Mi'raj
در صفت معراجش — On the description of his Night Ascension.
For the crown of eternity he set
his foot upon the head of the world and Adam.
Two worlds before his aspiration — worth two barleycorns.
Hear the secret of "his gaze did not swerve, nor did it transgress."
His foot became the crown upon Adam's head;
his hand became the pillar of the world's knowledge.
His steed toward eternity was the Mi'raj;
his ladder toward the Everlasting was the Way.
God said: "Glory be to Him who carried His servant by night" —
and from there he went to the farthest destination.
By night, from the Sacred Mosque, at his pleasure,
he went and saw and returned to his station.
The Lord showed him openly
the Lesser Sign and the Greater Sign.
He found the place of the lord of the hereafter —
the dome of nearness and the Night of Intimacy.
From the Rock to the Rafraf,
he held the grace of "the distance of two bows" in his palm.
He spoke, and also heard, and returned —
that same night, to the place of prayer.
The stature of the Throne, for all its glory,
was a mote before the summit of his honour.
In the Mi'raj God set upon the head
of his essence the crown of "By your life!"
With "Are you not pleased?" — who then has a ruined heart?
With "By your life!" — who then grieves over sin?
Through his majesty, by grace and sight,
the dust of Adam became gold from his sun.
Born from one another in knowledge and breath —
Adam from Ahmad, Ahmad from Adam.
The purpose of the world was Adam from the first;
the purpose of Adam was Ahmad the Messenger.
For his sake the ages were joined;
upon his head God swore the oath.
His gate was the place of the Holy Spirit;
his foot was the prostration-place of the Holy Spirit.
Were it not for the sake of his glory,
the heart of the earth would never have shown this perfection.
His nature is the sustenance of the animal spirit;
his character is the nurse of the human soul.
Venus has been rebuked by his sorrow;
Mars has read the chronicle of his awe.
Jupiter was his scribe;
the Bow bent low before his Arrow.
The eye of Jamshid was fixed upon his brow;
the disc of the sun was a bead upon his tress.
The colour of Saturn's cheek was his desire;
the pattern upon the moon's brow was his name.
The honour of the people of the Gathering is his saddlebow;
the Guarded Tablet is the kingdom of his perception.
In the school of the Wise and the All-Knowing,
the Guarded Tablet rested in his lap.
Body and soul, in the treasury of the secret,
bowed in prayer before the prayer-niche of his brows.
The description of his face came from "By the morning light";
the quality of his tresses came from "When the night darkened."
The purpose of creation was he;
his sign was the prophets' vision.
For the sake of the feet of the lord of faith,
the lion of the sky and the bull of the earth were adorned.
Before Islam, at the very beginning,
he was a demon-slayer in his own domain.
In the lane of love he scattered to the wind
his soul and heart, gladdened by the love of Amina.
When his destiny left Alya,
he became a guide to the monk Bahira.
Amina was heedless of such a pearl;
the age had never seen such a free man.
And from Halima he was weaned —
in all the kingdoms, order was found through him.
Had not the seeking of the faith let him be,
the slave of Amina, by the Holy Spirit, would have been taken.
His uncle became his enemy on the road,
unaware of his greatness.
The ocean of faith did not ebb or flow
with any fortune but the fortune of Ahmad.
When to this place he made his journey,
he brought the dust of that place with him.
He ate it with water and sat down pure —
washed from the water of his turning like the sky.
His dust was the water of his stripping-away;
the journey of the heart was his station of unity.
The evil wind did not aim for his soul;
the water of exile did not wet his tongue.
The seal of the law, the seal upon his lips —
"God has spoken truly" inscribed upon the seal.
VI. On the Superiority of Our Prophet Over All Other Prophets
ذکر تفضیل پیغمبر ما علیهالسلام بر سایر انبیاء — On the superiority of our Prophet, peace be upon him, over all other prophets.
Of all the prophets — since the bounty of the Lord —
he is one, and yet he is all: what a wonder!
His nature is from the most noble retinue;
his lineage is in the most honourable station.
For the sake of his form and heart and spirit,
before the decree of his address and command,
his image was all eyes like the moist narcissus;
intellect was all ears like the jasmine.
No flood-torrent was more tender in its shoot than he;
no bird was more cage-breaking than he.
His aspiration sought "the Companion most high";
his glory spoke "there is no prophet after me."
He gave the elder the passion and fire of youth;
he gave the dust the lustre of water.
He was God's servant from the crown of his head —
all the world is a mosque beneath his feet.
Go — until the hem of eternity, none so fair
will anyone behold with their own eyes.
He cast his fame throughout the world
and brought with him a new tradition.
The customs of all peoples became his way;
there is no comprehension of his insight.
The guidance of a people, for the seekers of truth —
"Guide my people," from the habit of his sweet speech.
VII. On Following Him
فی اتباعه صلوات الله علیه — On following him, God's blessings upon him.
His wisdom and cup, in both worlds,
are the intermediary between creation and God.
The sword and the Quran were his miracle;
his law will never grow old.
He is like Moses, and Ali his Aaron —
both one colour within and without.
Whoever entered through his door,
he set the crown of honour upon their head.
For the sake of generosity, not for the sake of prostration,
his threshold stole the lustre of the Kaaba through its bounty.
He is the City of Knowledge and Ali its gate;
he is God's Prophet, Ali his saint.
Whatever he said — know it as the absolute secret;
whatever he did — know it as the deed of God.
His word — know it as final, like the Quran;
his utterance — know it as binding, like the Criterion.
The heart full of pain that has no strength —
no caretaker is like him.
The law and faith are the cupbearer of his wine;
the bat's eye is his sun.
He is more compassionate toward you than your own self;
in intercession, therefore, he is more generous.
From grace — not from whim or desire —
he is far more tender toward you than you are.
Toward the impure soul, how would he go?
He is pure; the pure seeks the pure.
Be pure — purified, you are saved from hellfire;
for he will deliver you from that Barzakh.
But whoever feeds on the forbidden —
hellfire, by the law, suits him better.
If you would become his companion,
withdraw your hand from the forbidden and the illicit.
In his sanctuary, O seeker of safety,
be ashamed of the forbidden, and wash your hands.
Did not the God of the world say to the people of the self:
"I am the master of the believers, and that is enough"?
You who care for nothing but the wine-flask —
lose your breast, since yours is not a pure breast.
A breast that the Sunna adorns —
the heart of that breast is fit for the law.
A breast and heart that is the place of error —
that is the house of the demon, the harp, and the wine.
O you who remain wretched, pitiful, and ashamed
in the hell of the body and the inferno of the heart —
sometimes your anger drags you down to hellfire;
sometimes your lust gives you boiling drink.
Sometimes the lion of pride and the pig of need bite;
sometimes the serpent of spite and the scorpion of greed sting.
In hellfire you heap it up, then
you cook the pot of desire in paradise.
Sometimes the spark of anger rises to the ether;
sometimes fraud and deceit drag you to the Blaze.
From the outside, your burning makes you glad in heedlessness;
from within, your intellect and soul cry out.
Muhammad stands at the edge of the Barzakh —
his mantle is hanging into hellfire.
If you have eyes and sight,
why do you not quickly come out of hellfire?
So that he may deliver you from ugly hellfire,
then bring you to the garden of paradise.
His Sunna is a mantle — arise!
Cling to the mantle of Muhammad!
For the sky is Ahmad the Messenger:
his first is his last, his last is his first.
All have come out from behind that veil;
both the wise and the mad gaze upon him.
His community is like drops of rain
whose beginning and end are like the middle.
Know his nurture as the nurse of the intellect's children;
know his knowledge as the ledger of divine secrets.
In this workshop of generation and corruption,
his work and concern were two: poverty and struggle.
Since I am not the man of his carpet and his hall,
I am the slave of the slave of his gatekeeper.
I am content with my reckoning if its summary is he;
I am the slave of hellfire if its keeper is he.
He is the master of faith and kingdom and justice;
whatever was needed, he has given.
As long as I have knowledge and hold to faith,
I will not let go of his hem.
I follow him and become a leader;
upon the crown of his law I become a jewel.
VIII. On the Opening of His Heart
اندر گشادن دل وی — On the opening of his heart.
The spirit first opened his breast;
whatever was not pure, it washed away pure.
It removed the seam from him at once;
it loosened the bond from him just the same.
A breast over which God's decree presides —
what is the harm in opening its seam?
So that in this foundation he might,
seeing the mending, remember the Mender.
By Gabriel's wing it was made whole —
that wound, by God's command, healed swiftly.
His heart was pure of treachery,
like the slate of India wiped clean of figures.
His inscription was the allotment of the soul;
the clean slate was the command of God.
The prophets, though they were exalted,
were all zeroes beside that numeral.
They came before — not from his lowliness:
they came before for the sake of his increase.
Though they are before, what grief is it?
The zero's precedence is the numeral's increase.
His decree runs like wisdom;
his life is young like fortune.
His faith has become exalted in the world,
becoming an intercessor for his community.
His fortune is the blood-price of young and old;
his wisdom is the alchemy of both worlds.
He was pure in his inward and outward;
the dust of the world became pure through him.
His law, in insight and excellence,
surpasses analogy and approbation.
The creed of the pain of the chosen ones is from his clay;
the meaning of the prophets' light is from his heart.
The soul is one branch of his in seven companions;
he is one law of yours in seven climes.
He stirred an uproar, outward and known;
his fear was from the roof and wall of the Dog Star.
Like an arrowhead toward all the righteous,
he spread his wings swiftly, without an arrowhead.
For the arrowhead of his arrow, by divine instruction,
God gave him the title "the Noble Book."
He arrived, fragrant in sweet nature,
the copy of the knowledge of the Unseen in his mind.
He said: "I saw the Paradise of Refuge —
the Lote-Tree and the Throne and the Tablet and the Tree of Bliss.
I saw through my heart with the eye of Divinity,
in the gatherings of the sanctuaries of Sovereignty.
I approved the grace of Paradise;
I also saw the prison of justice and its severity.
Whatever was the hidden secret of the Presence —
in less than an hour He showed it all to me."
He knows — he whose heart is empty of doubt —
that all of this is the Unseen of the celestial world.
Who is the intermediary before the curtained hall?
Who but he, between creation and God?
Whether they are noble or lowly — all of them:
his generosity will be their intercessor.
IX. On His Superiority
ذکر تفضیلش — On the mention of his superiority.
The light that took effect from his nature
became the fountain of the sun and the River of Kawthar.
Before that master of divine grace,
intellect and Hafs became schoolchildren.
The foot of sincerity found its transmission from him;
from his noble bride, intellect was freed.
When he arrived at the lowly centre,
he said to faith: "You are still a child."
He nursed the faith of God
until he nurtured the light of belief.
Before him, intellect became all ears;
before him, tradition became all clarity.
Every good counsel that the Chosen One gave —
intellect knows one must be all ears.
Intellect before him is like a slave,
for from him intellect found its good fortune.
Intellect is in the school of his guidance;
the cleverness of intellect is from his very beginning.
He made the Universal Intellect his guest
from the fear of going astray, by God's command.
Intellect, like David in the prayer-niche,
fell before him "bowing in prostration and turning in repentance."
Before him intellect walks bent over;
you may come on foot, but he comes in vision.
Your guide is the way of faith;
intellect, in its own affairs, is bewildered.
Your intellect, in the degrees of heart and body,
is both life-giver and prison-maker.
Your guide is God,
who is the acceptor of the intellect of men.
Intellect and obedience are things to be drawn;
love and faith are things to be tasted.
These two arise beyond intellect and soul;
this does not mix with that, nor that with this.
His law is the spirit of the spiritual intellect;
your opinion is the companion of the demon of the self.
Like the evil eye, strike against every eye —
bend intellect's neck before his law.
Wherever the law shows its face,
opinion is worn away in the dust of its hooves.
Intellect does not do work carelessly —
yet it cannot match the faith.
The work of opinion and analogy with the law
is like whispering before the speech of God.
The opinion of the law: that which burns the self.
The opinion of intellect: that which fans the flame.
X. On the Interpretation of "We Have Not Sent You Except as a Mercy to the Worlds"
در تفسیر وما ارسلناک الا رحمةللعالمین — On the interpretation of Quran 21:107.
Since you are sick with desire and appetite,
the Mercy of the Worlds is physician enough for you.
Whoever has a portion of glory —
the wisdom of the Chosen One has been his nurse.
His way built the wall of gratitude;
the mansion of the Sunna was his house.
If you did not know, O seekers of desire —
hear this word from those who are silent,
that they may speak in the tongue of wisdom:
whoever gave his heart, his faith purchased it —
for in this furnace full of the blind,
in this workshop of labourers,
his courtesy is better than all your qualities;
his wisdom is better than all your perfection.
He is guide enough for you — seek no other road;
he is tongue enough for you — speak no idle word.
Fancy and sense and imagination are your guides;
that is why your station is always at the door.
Be a man of aspiration, not a man of appetite;
since you are not a prophet, be of his community.
His word will take you to paradise;
his courtesy will save you from the synagogue.
Follow him and you become a leader —
a bead swiftly becomes a jewel.
Give your soul as a sacrifice in following him,
since you have no stomach for his reproach.
Without the stirrup of the Chosen One, toward God,
your foot will not walk, however fast you run.
Until you set your foot upon the summit of the sky,
you will not dip your finger in salt with him.
Whatever he said — know it as the absolute secret;
whatever he did — know it as the deed of God.
Know his word as final, like the Quran;
know his utterance as binding, like the Criterion.
The heart full of pain that has no strength —
no caretaker like him exists.
The law and faith are the cupbearer of his wine;
the bat's eye is his sun.
He is more compassionate toward you than your own self;
in intercession he is more generous still.
From grace — not from whim or desire —
he is far more tender toward you than you are yourself.
Toward the impure soul, why would he go?
He is pure — the pure seeks only the pure.
Be pure — purified, you are saved from hellfire,
for he will deliver you from that Barzakh.
But whoever feeds on the forbidden —
hellfire, by the law, suits him better.
If you would become his companion,
withdraw your hand from the forbidden and the illicit.
In his sanctuary, O seeker of safety,
be ashamed of the forbidden, and wash your hands.
Did not the God of the world say to the people of the self:
"I am the master of the believers, and that is enough"?
You who care for nothing but the wine-flask —
lose your breast, since yours is not a pure breast.
A breast that the Sunna adorns —
the heart of that breast is fit for the law.
A breast and heart that is the place of error —
that is the house of the demon, the harp, and the wine.
O you who remain wretched, pitiful, and ashamed,
in the hell of the body and the inferno of the heart —
sometimes your anger drags you to hellfire;
sometimes your lust gives you boiling drink.
Sometimes the lion of pride and the pig of need bite;
sometimes the serpent of spite and the scorpion of greed sting.
In hellfire you heap it up, then
you cook the pot of desire in paradise.
Sometimes the spark of anger rises to the ether;
sometimes fraud and deceit drag you to the Blaze.
From the outside your burning delights you in heedlessness;
from within, your intellect and soul cry out.
The Chosen One stands at the edge of the Barzakh —
his mantle hanging into hellfire.
If you have eyes and sight,
why do you not quickly come out of hellfire?
So that he may deliver you from ugly hellfire,
then bring you to the garden of paradise.
His Sunna is a mantle — arise!
Cling to the mantle of Muhammad!
For the sky is Ahmad the Messenger;
his first is his last, his last is his first.
All have come out from behind that veil —
both the wise and the mad gaze upon him.
His community is like the drops of rain
whose beginning and end are like the middle.
Know his nurture as the nurse of the intellect's children;
know his knowledge as the ledger of divine secrets.
In this workshop of generation and corruption,
his work and his concern were two: poverty and struggle.
Since I am not the man of his carpet and his hall,
I am the slave of the slave of his gatekeeper.
I am content with my reckoning if its summary is he;
I am the slave of hellfire if its keeper is he.
He is the master of faith, kingdom, and justice;
whatever was needed, he has given.
As long as I have knowledge and hold to faith,
I will not let go of his hem.
I follow him and become a leader;
upon the crown of his law I become a jewel.
XI. On Sending Blessings Upon Him and His Family
اندر درود دادن بر او و آل او صلیالله علیهوسلم — On sending blessings upon him and his family, God's blessings and peace upon him.
Until the Gathering, O heart, if you speak praise,
you have said everything when you say "the Chosen One."
You spoke his name — fear not for the world:
the houris come forth, baring their teeth in welcome.
Hellfire flees from his name
as the demon's soul flees from "There is no power."
Whatever you wish — know it as his guidance;
whatever you find — know it as his care.
Intellect is famous through that renowned one,
for in that workshop it is a labourer.
The soul dwells in glory and permanence
because its face is turned toward the hope of meeting him.
A soul that will not see that face —
it is no soul: it is filthy refuse.
Be his dust and rule as king;
be his and do whatever you wish.
Whoever is not like dust upon his threshold —
though he be an angel, let dust be upon his head.
When intellect bore the name of his person,
the Universal Soul drew its tongue into its mouth.
The Universal Intellect was worthless without him;
it did not become precious until it became his servant.
If intellect should ever flee from this door,
the heavens will hang it like a curtain.
Through the fortune of Ahmad,
intellect and soul built from permanence the fortress of eternity.
When his essence broke free from the mine of "Be!" —
he grasped the belt of the sky.
Though he did not rise above the sky,
the earth did not release him until he did.
Who entered, from the empty world to the full world,
free like Muhammad?
Who but he is the intercessor of the messengers,
upon the bridge of hellfire and upon the bridge?
The chamberlain of the Presence whispered in his soul's ear:
"O King of Kings, raise your head from the blanket!
O you whose rubies of word and deed
make the stiff-necked humble in their souls —
five drumbeats were struck upon your Throne;
from the world of the soul your carpet was made.
Spread this carpet in the world of the soul;
bring the Throne like a carpet beneath your feet."
XII. On His Superiority Over All the Prophets
اندر ترجیح او بر پیغمبران علیه و علیهمالسلام — On his preference over all the prophets, peace be upon him and upon them.
The prophets dismounted from the sky
and went from cushioned ease to bareness.
For the sake of Adam's shame, with heart and soul,
at your door they chanted "Our Lord, we have wronged ourselves."
Noah sought refuge in the fortress of your protection;
the spirit girded its loins in your service.
Michael set the crown upon his head;
Abraham laid the saddlecloth upon his shoulder.
Moses burned upon your fire —
at your door he became the one who cries "Show me!"
With your praise Jesus son of Mary
tied his wedding-knot in the bachelor's house.
The Holy Spirit and the Faithful Spirit stood with their trays,
waiting upon your left and right.
From the Throne they lifted the curtain of light;
the trumpet of the Master of the Horn was placed upon his lips.
The exaltation of Idris — from your praise he found it;
the Lote-Tree of Gabriel — for your sake he found it.
Khidr committed fire to the wind of his breast
and carried the Water of Life from the dust of your feet.
You had fastened the veil of poverty;
when you loosened it, you were at the fore.
The honour of "the distance of two bows" increased from that veil;
the eminence of the Throne stole your adornment.
The soul of the celestial beings saw your heart —
it set its eye upon its head and came forward.
The people of the seven heavens remained hidden,
their fingertips placed in their mouths.
Eight doors, through the four elements — helpless —
he opened for Suhayb and Bilal.
Seven doors he sealed shut through his aspiration
upon the hearts of the sinners of his community.
The faces of the celestial beings turn toward your door,
for tonight is the review of your army.
Through the fragrance of your face, Dhul-Nun
came out from the belly of the whale and the sea.
All of it was from the destination of union with you;
all of it was from the shrine of your beauty.
Salih and Lot and Hud are waiting;
they ask Yusha and Khidr for your news.
David is the reciter of your table;
the Companions of the Cave are all your guests.
Luqman stands upon his feet at your court;
Solomon is steward of your palace.
The son of Azar spreads the carpet;
the son of Mary strikes the bell.
Angels stand on the right and left
with trays of light for your offering.
Isaac's eyes are bright upon your face —
like Ishmael, famous throughout the horizons.
Jacob has grown wretched and blind;
from the dust of your feet he sees again, sharp-eyed.
Joseph stands upon your road;
Benjamin has been sent ahead.
The aged Shu'ayb has waited for you,
gone behind the curtain of the Unseen.
They gave the heavens the title "earth";
the stars gave their light for the sake of faith.
From time they came for your praise:
Friday and the White Days and the Night of Power and the Festival and Barat.
From space they came, their statures bent:
Mecca and Yathrib and the Sanctuary and the Sacred Precinct.
Waiting in the abode of permanence —
the tray of the sky and the hand of offering.
The transport of spirits became a transport from you;
the slate was taken up fresh by intellect from you.
But from the fast he fashioned, for the sake of certainty,
his community's way — for the tradition of the faith.
Your form the man of keen faith saw;
desire set out fresh upon the road of sense and certainty.
The Universal Soul drove water through your stream;
the Universal Intellect became dust upon your lane.
The sky brought, for the feast of hospitality,
the lamb and the bull as sacrifice.
The hand of the sky set itself to work;
the stars were strewn as an offering.
The Throne poured pearls beneath your feet —
from the heavens, tray upon tray of jewels.
A dome was raised above the sun;
Gabriel sprinkled the road with water.
Saturn and Jupiter and Mars
made the dust of your door their chronicle.
The Sun with Venus, increasing delight,
adorned your court with beauty.
Mercury, subtle of mind and far of sight,
with the Moon became a dervish at your door.
The seven planets and twelve signs
became the treasury and the jewel-box of your name.
"You did not worship" is the cap of generation and corruption;
"It does not avail" is the robe of the Festival of the Return.
"Lord, grant me" is the foundation of the everlasting kingdom;
the coin of "it does not befit" gazes upon its own freshness.
Yasin brought about the final result;
the command "Say: nothing shall befall us" rested upon his heart.
"Fear God" is the veil upon the face of action;
"Do not fear" is the address of the hand of hope.
"Behold how" is the profligate of warnings;
"Remember when" is the instructor of secrets.
"Go down!" came the command from the Quran —
its answer was "Our Lord, we have wronged ourselves."
"The worst of beasts" — the small-minded;
"the people of the good return" — the considered.
"The day We roll up the sky" — the courier of faithfulness;
"The day when no one shall possess" — the beginning of healing.
"Worship your Lord" — guide to Him;
"Do good" — guide to victory.
"He rewarded them" — the robe of the gathering of permanence;
"He gave them to drink" — the healing of the people of wretchedness.
"Seek help" — the refuge of the garden of the soul;
"Do not incline" — upon the highway of the garden of the soul.
"He brings forth the living" — the banner of power;
"He causes the night to enter" — the banner of creation.
The strength of the soul is the rhyme of "Say: He is God";
the balm of intellect is the mim of "Whatever you left."
In that qaf there is no quarrel or speech;
in that mim there is no inclination or wealth.
"Remember Me" — the sustenance of essence and intellect;
"Worship Me" — the station of justice and exchange.
At the Lote-Tree, "He loves them" pitched its tent
within the pavilion of "They love Him."
The lam of "Do not despair" is the banner of deliverance;
the alif of "Do good" is the reward of hardship.
I saw that leader of the world —
the jewel of the mine of the grace of Adam.
Khidr and Moses stood at his audience,
the tablet of instruction taken up upon their breast.
His fortune stole Venus's daring;
it seized the playing-piece from the hand of the age.
Destiny saddled the horse of his might;
Gabriel the Faithful laid the saddlecloth upon his shoulder.
His threshold is the threshold of the kingdom of Self-Sufficiency;
"the distance of two bows" is his heart, "or nearer."
From "By your life!" — his robe of honour;
"Arise and warn!" — his robe of commission.
The patient ones upon the right hand of his faith;
the truthful ones upon the collar-edge of his shirt.
The devout ones for the offering of his sacrifice;
the spenders upon the hem of his turban.
The coin of those who seek forgiveness — his abundance —
at the bottom of the pocket and the slit of his skirt.
He saddled the steed of authority
at the gate of the faith for the Day of Judgement.
The soul hangs from his saddlebow;
intellect and soul are born upon his dust.
Intellect knows what the soul says;
intellect recites whatever the soul says.
I said: "O you whose image is the seal of form,
the mediator in the necklace of fortune —
speak a brief aphorism;
show the straight way of the face."
He said: "For the strength and power of the soul,
from My prophets — recite 'The Messenger believed.'
'You shall not attain' — for the order of humankind;
'Do not be excessive' — for the permitted and the forbidden.
All this pageantry — what is it for?
This is beyond our fancy and our thought.
Its outward shows, from the door of the heart,
that this rose of the heart that bloomed from clay —"
The choice of eternity whispered in his ear,
without the moisture of knowledge or the thorn of action:
"O King of Kings, the faith! The slope of illusion —
your glory raised your head high.
You are the door of the palace and the roof of the world;
you are the head of the seed and the lineage of Adam.
So long as from the sky of certainty there laughs
the dawn of faith toward the east of religion —
O truthful witness, O sphere full of running —
and O world, silent and full of sound:
how can one, from hardship and fear,
beat such a drumroll beneath a blanket?
The tongue of the age said to him:
'O you, for whose sake both the seen and unseen —
why do you veil yourself in this worthless world?
The light of your face is veil enough for you.
Through your coming, faith has become unbelief;
unbelief has sunk entirely into the ground.
Faith and unbelief, through you, are Moses and Qarun —
faith rises; unbelief falls inward.
Your hair fills the marrow with soul;
your face fills the lane with roses.
From you and of you is the ear of humankind —
what wonder, since the ear is from the head?
The house with five doors that holds the soul
holds it for the sake of a guest like you.
By your command, four governors are in accord:
the centre, the green, the air, and the ether.
Are you not the king of the world and Adam?
The brand is upon the flank of the white and the black.
The white and the black — they are for your sake;
that world and this world are your mansion.
From "Slay the polytheists!" — gird your belt!
From "To you your religion, to me mine!" — how many religions?
Break the necks and backs of the polytheists;
uproot unbelief from the foundation of the world.
Make the sword ruby-red with the blood of the foe;
when you become a leader, be the master of the foe.
How could God accept from you
that the world should keep waiting for you?
There is famine in the faith — unveil!
Be its host, with the Opening of the Gate.
In the desert, stride forth from the bridge;
mix the waters and make the thorns bloom.
Split the mountain peak with the arrow of Qaf;
pierce the sky with the lance of idle boast.
Polytheism has taken root — destroy it!
The Kaaba has become an idol-house — purify it!
Command Ali to do this work,
so that he may set his foot upon the noble shoulder.
He will purify the Kaaba of every idol;
he will destroy all the polytheists.
Adorn, for the sake of joy,
both worlds — like the ear and neck of a houri.
For when you speak by way of command,
the dead of ignorance receive the soul.
For in the service of the breath of Adam,
the soul and the command go both together.
Every bride that the mother of "Be!" gave birth to —
his aspiration gave them all the decree of separation.
Thereafter he found a thousand kinds of victory —
his soul, without the burden of the spirit's embassy.
Whoever said "bravo!" to his praise —
spoke truly: "You belong to God."
From him they drew their strength and adornment —
their wisdom, their soul, their form, and their substance.
XIII. On the Attributes of the Prophet
اندر صفات پیغامبر علیهالسلام — On the attributes of the Prophet, peace be upon him.
His baggage was carried to the roof of the sky —
the shadow of fortune and the pedestal of the throne.
A form that was fit for acceptance —
kept occupied by the form of seeking.
He bore relation to the intellect of that world —
possessing both highness and meaning.
The world was brought into being at his step —
the purpose of eternal wisdom was his being.
He was the Kaaba of the desert of non-being —
he was the banner of the world of knowledge.
In nature, majesty was his —
with the Messengership, valour was his.
In the Messengership he was perfect, perfect —
in honour he was the Imam of Imams.
A meadow of perfection without partner —
a tree full of the leaf of needlessness.
His face was beautiful and his counsel piercing —
Eternity called him the Gatherer and the Successor.
His court was the Law and his intellect was lucid —
the Greatest Reviver called him the Effacer.
The fame of his voice had spread throughout the world —
yet in his way there was neither wing nor step.
The description of this state belongs to the Chosen One —
sweet fragrance has neither wing nor feather.
The ṣād and dāl quenched the truthful one —
the ʿayn and shīn beguiled the lover.
Whatever brought scent, of moist and dry —
this black-and-white brought forth the face.
Killed and born are his elements —
the father of Intellect and the mother of Soul.
The substance and shadow of the earth was his —
the night-jewel and the lamp of religion was his.
The glory of all the prophets was his —
he was the father-in-law of the Commander Ali.
From entering his presence none was held back —
the curtain-keeper of the house of the curtain of mystery.
When he emerged from the royal road of non-being,
the Chosen One sought a new road from Adam.
When Adam set the road of light before him,
his soul gave life to the soul of the elect.
He bore the path of truth in his two brows —
he bore the stages of love in his two tresses.
Adam saw that the possessor of eternity,
the Human, was breathing with love.
The Universal Intellect took wisdom and counsel from him —
the shadow finds its feet from the sun.
Before him who was of his own noble origin —
eyes closed and brows open.
The Law is generous — when does the intellect weigh it?
Love — when does it fit in the vessel of a word?
He who knows how to make the night white
does not raise dust from the body of the intellect.
What is there in the house of mystery but his Law —
embroidery upon embroidery on the robe of eternity?
His face was the host of the truthful —
his tresses were the wage-giver of the hypocrite.
He was better than the whole world —
Adam was pleased with him, and he with Adam.
His face and tresses were the wellbeing of the world —
his form and character were the existence of Adam.
The purpose of the world's turning was him —
he was called, and Adam was his guest.
He received the honour of the Kingdom's prostration —
and the honour of the seed, power upon power.
From that living heart and eloquent tongue —
the hearts of his friends were like the dwelling-place of Christ.
All his friends, from knowledge and learning,
had sewn purses of wisdom and forbearance.
So that he would not see the petitioners' shame —
to all, before need, he said "Take."
From that tree whose root is veneration —
the branch is Revelation and the fruit is interpretation.
His birthplace upon the prayer of the oppressed —
his destination upon the cry of the innocent.
The provision of the poorly provisioned was his contentment —
the sustenance of communities was his intercession.
The pain of the prophets was mingled in his clay —
the light of the saints was borrowed from his heart.
On the first day of religion, he was King of Kings —
on the last day of the soul, he was the heart's desire.
His creation reformed miserliness into generosity —
to the people he gave the sting as gift and made sweet what they could bear.
Through him, mosque and believer revolve like heaven —
through him, synagogue and church are safe.
All the lords of religion through him received mercy —
all the strangers through him were cut off.
He guided nature toward intellect from wine —
he called intellect toward guidance from error.
When you say "Muhammad," O dervish —
go near the far-seeing intellect.
So that the intellect, with rightness,
may kick you forward — perhaps even in sleep.
It will tell you: the meaning of "Muhammad" is true —
it is effacement and extension, and both are bounty and gift.
Effacement of disbelief from the house of religion's curtain —
extension of the tent-ropes of the Law to the Pleiades.
Both the taker — from whom? From the fool;
and the giver — to whom? To the rightful one.
He whose nourishment is from his nourishment is light —
estranged from the nourishment of time.
The inscription of his name, in the time of knowledge and counsel —
from the door of the Unseen and doubt, a lock-opener.
The people are servants of God and his servants —
their prayer-direction is he, and his prayer-niche is the door of God.
Whoever has not sat at his table even a moment —
his intellect has wept blood upon his soul.
No clay more fermented than his —
no wayfarer swifter than he.
He is, against disbelief when he hastens —
a fierce light, melting like moonlight.
He is the helper and champion of religion's realm —
his elements are the throne of the noble.
On the road of right guidance, he is honoured —
on the way of God, he is exalted.
Never for the sake of impure kingdom or dominion
was he fettered to desire like chaff.
From all creatures and from all strangers
he had sewn shut his eyes — like a hunting falcon.
For the sake of the Law in God's world —
his silent soul was the tongue of God.
Not a tongue that is of flesh —
but a tongue that is the ear of the fig.
Speech in the ear is a borrowed thing —
what is the heart of the fig but intention?
When pure intention rises from the heart —
it dislodges the point of idolatry.
When the meaning of the rose was realized from the clay —
its interior became, like the soul, all heart.
When it became all heart and became a healer —
its ear filled with pure milk.
When his face is in the heart of the clay —
his counsel in action is firm.
The soul of the rose grows old from sitting —
the blood of the heart becomes milk in ascent.
I return to the praise of the Lord of Two Bows —
I lift the veil from the face of Du'ad.
You from him are like a lion in the thicket —
I from him am like a heart in thought.
The heart through thought is radiant and exalted —
the thicket of religion is free from the lion of evil.
Reflection on the crafts of the Eternal —
in prophecy, the deposits of the One.
Though in form it is like a calf —
it is better than a hundred years of repetition and remembrance.
His star is the guardian of the path of the angels —
his protection is the watchman of the King of Heaven.
Having raised his hand around the world —
he made everything other than the Truth void.
His understanding, in the vision of possibility —
is higher than analogy and preference.
He was the source of awe; pain and power were his —
he bore the path of truth in his two brows.
Whoever grasped the feet of the people of vision —
never does abasement come upon his head.
When one hastens toward the road of selflessness —
one washes the image of self with the water of the face.
Before that hidden Master of the world —
I went and saw and returned and said:
"Not like a lion in the thicket —
but like a heart in thought."
XIV. On His Mission and Sending
صفت بعث و ارسال وی علیهالسلام — On the description of his mission and sending, peace be upon him.
He came from God to your soul
as a messenger to your ruined city.
Self-less, his throne; crownless, his crown;
his army was awe, his mount the Mi'raj.
His way and nature confirmed forbearance;
his wisdom and soul confirmed knowledge.
When Ahmad's back became a prayer-niche,
before his face men came like Bedouin.
Gabriel came, in conformity with him,
in Bedouin form from his agreement.
Gabriel, for the sake of prayer,
straightened his finger and bowed his head and neck —
for he appeared, as if eastern from western,
as the face of Dihya the Kalbi.
From the collar of the Mission he raised his head;
the hem of the law he filled with jewels.
Before him, at the Gathering, they laid their offerings:
the eight bearers of the Throne and the seven stars.
XV. On the Description of the Seven Stars
صفت هفت اختر — On the description of the seven stars.
Saturn scattered beneath his feet as an offering:
aspiration, intellect, memory, thought, and dignity.
Jupiter entrusted to his soul the gift:
sincerity, justice, goodness, faith, and loyalty.
Mars gave him, for the sake of his might:
glory, resolve, determination, strength, and victory.
The Sun drew before him, for the sake of beauty:
bounty, eminence, lustre, and majesty.
Venus set upon him, for the sake of light:
adornment, nature, elegance, taste, and joy.
Mercury brought before him from its knowledge:
acuity, forbearance, counsel, speech, and learning.
The body of the Moon scattered upon him as offerings:
swiftness, growth, subtlety, grace, and glory.
He came with a thousand honours and desires
to the crossroads of generation and corruption.
In the world of God's creation — secretly —
the New Moon of faith saw his face.
Therefore, in the world of His making and unmaking,
its dwelling was made good through his beauty.
By grace, without companions,
he took the crown from the head of the faithful.
All of them he summoned in delight,
then with "his gaze did not swerve" he taught them courtesy.
His companions were from Rome and Abyssinia;
with Suhayb and Bilal his life was sweet.
The People of the Bench were his companions —
like a cloud whose rain was his forgiveness.
He sacrificed his soul for the sake of God;
"Guide my people!" he said of the unknowing.
In annihilation he became the shepherd of the flock —
he became everything so that all might become.
And those four who were before his table —
they were the marrow, the heart, the eyes, and the soul.
Each of those four, like true men
upon this field and in this arena:
to the marrow he gave sincerity, to the heart justice,
to the eyes shame, to the soul generosity.
His heart and eye, through the path of grace —
his outer nature and his inner nature, for honour's sake.
To the good he never made a refusal;
and whatever was evil never came from him.
He sealed the breath of idolatry among his friends;
he broke the cage of the soul of his enemies.
That breath, when mixed with purity,
that cage became firewood for hell.
Singular in love, without end, he —
his collar-wearers are the kings of his sovereignty.
His collar-wearers, among prophet and saint,
cling to "the firmest handhold."
All his companions sacrificed their souls;
his word was their daily sustenance.
His station rode alongside the Highest;
his faith rode alongside the Day of Judgement.
At Uhud, with the One, he was one —
though his companions were few.
A jewel from the blow of a stone of misfortune
found its burning from the instrument of his soul.
His lips and teeth were drenched in blood;
his tears were like the waves of the Oxus.
"Guide my people!" he said in the midst —
uncut rubies in his embrace.
The Master — Iblis screaming from the mountain —
"What a great victory, and what a feat!"
The dot of hope and desire was killed;
the face of his companions turned to flight.
Hind set her howdah upon the mountain-top;
the infidels before her, troop upon troop.
She cried: "This is not from treachery —
this is the work of vengeance for Badr!"
The hand of Ahmad cut doubt at the root;
the point of his spear severed the soul of Ubayy.
When his soul surpassed the fire,
Gabriel's soul cried out from his heart with joy —
for he saw victory coming from the Court
for the conquest of that heavenly army.
The cries of the infidels rose to the summit;
the throat of each was like a sea, with waves —
"We have felled the cypress from his foot:
the cypress that adorns the garden of the law!"
Hamza lay mutilated upon the field,
like seventy of those young warriors.
His glory is the heaven of the angel's soul;
his honour is the watchman of the sky's roof.
He was the moon — but the moon of the sphere of the Throne:
his face veiled in glory before all eyes.
To see him, seen and unseen,
was the eye of Sa'd and the breast of Salman.
But those who were the covering of faults:
Sakhr, Abu Jahl, Shayba, and Utba.
All of them remained blind and sightless
because they lingered on this short road.
He made his devotion upon the faces of the slain;
the gate of the Day of Resurrection he opened.
Within and without, by word and speech,
he sealed ten windows of the soul against the demon.
He was in servitude, thorny and sharp —
the free cypress of the stream of God.
The eye of faith was bright from his permanence;
the light of the sun was from that face.
In exchange for blood, for the sake of the secret of certainty,
he set the faith flowing in "he almost" and "it becomes clear."
He was the moon — that blessed sphere —
from whose face the sun would laugh.
The moon's laughter is from the disc of the sun;
the sun is the moon's garment cut short.
For the sake of the disobedient child,
he made the breast of Mother Nature go dark —
and from intellect, toward the soul, both clever and dull,
he made death smile like Umar.
Like the tree of spring, the grace of eternity —
its water and freshness mingled together.
He was a candle — that blessed Huma —
burning within, laughing without.
XVI. On His Creation, Station, and Beautiful Character
ذکر آفرینش و مرتبه و حسن خلق وی صلواة الله علیه — On his creation, station, and the beauty of his character, God's blessings upon him.
The nightingales of that sweet-scented garden
sing their song: "Blessed be God!"
Over time he commanded like kings;
upon the earth he ate bread like servants.
He ate barley bread like the humble
and then bore the heavy burden with forbearance.
To creation, his character is a herald of good news;
the moon's light comes from the beauty of the sun.
A treasure-house was his neighbour — his pure heart;
the hardship of shadow never touched his dust.
A hundred thousand sighs he heard from the free —
yet neither an "alif" nor a "he" stood between.
Gabriel came to him from the Lote-Tree;
the hard oath of God was upon his head.
None but he in all humanity
wept in laughter and laughed in weeping in his seeking.
His character, beneath this canopy,
gave mercies and bore wounds.
XVII. On His Superiority Over Gabriel and All the Prophets
فی فضیلته علیهالسلام علی جبرئیل و سائر الانبیاء علیهمالسلام — On his superiority, peace be upon him, over Gabriel and all the prophets, peace be upon them.
On the Night of the Ascension, when to the Presence he went
with a thousand glories and honours he went.
When he reached the Rafraf, the Faithful Spirit
sought separation from the Chosen One.
Gabriel turned back from his known station
and remained deprived.
He said: "O King, now walk on alone,
for beyond this I have no station.
If I come one fingertip further
or turn my face toward this side,
like a burnt finger — head and back —
my feet and hand and fingers will become."
He had been with the Messenger before the messenger came;
to the sincerity of the Truthful One — greetings!
XVIII. In Praise of Abu Bakr al-Siddiq
ستایش ابوبکر صدیق رضیالله عنه — In praise of Abu Bakr the Truthful, may God be pleased with him.
When the Sun of Generosity closed its door,
the Moon of his deputies girded its belt.
When the Sun of Faith hid in the west,
the Moon of the Caliphate fattened the manger.
The master of liberation and sincerity —
his soul graced the intimate gathering.
In the mansion of joy, companion and friend —
"the second of two, when the two were in the cave."
From a truthful tongue and a sincere soul —
like the Prophet, compassionate; like the Kaaba, free.
From the heel he was a treader of the path;
before the soul of the Messenger, a charmer of serpents.
XIX. On Abu Bakr's Distinction Above All Mankind
فی تخصیص ابیبکر علی کافة الناس — On the distinction of Abu Bakr above all humankind.
The heart of Ahmad was, of all being, the point;
Adam and all the prophets were upon the line.
The prophets were the line of the circle;
all displayed their beauty upon the line.
And those companions who were like stars —
all were the compass turning round the circle.
What Ahmad said — that Chosen Messenger:
"The first of creation and the last of the missions" — this it was:
for the first was the point and then the line;
the line — the second creation — came after the point.
The soul of Abu Bakr was the middle line —
not off the line: Abu Bakr was on the line.
The guide showed him the way;
he had no community at all.
Though the Companions of the Cave, for the way,
all became aware of that defect —
the fraud and deception and trickery of Decius
became known to them as mockery:
"He who is afraid of a cat —
how can he be the God of all the world?"
They were three, or five, or seven;
there was a community when they came together.
After that, the dog followed suit
so that one step of it would profit him.
But for Abu Bakr there was no community at all;
from guidance alone he found his lamp.
When the word of the Master he heard,
in the dark night he saw the straight road.
By a single word of his he gave his assent;
he turned away from idols and from graven images.
Therefore he was within the circle —
without loss, profit came to him.
The prophets were the line and the Messenger the point;
the soul of Abu Bakr was in the middle of the line.
A hundred thousand mercies and benedictions —
from Sanai, let them reach his cup.
XX. On His Nearness and the Right of His Companionship with the Messenger of God
فی قربته و حق صحبته مع رسولاللٰه — On his nearness and the right of his companionship with the Messenger of God.
When the Faithful Spirit beat the drum of the law,
faith set its eye upon his ear.
To the Prophet he was fit and worthy of soul;
he showed his heart in his mouth like a pistachio.
His stature, in the contentment of God,
sought the shirt of Islam.
Such was his grace and excellence
that they called "the Father of Excellence" the One of Excellence.
He lent from the wealth of heart and faith —
"Who is it who lends?" is witness to this.
He heard the decree of "Who is it who lends?" —
he struck and sold his house for it.
In one stroke, at the time of sacrifice,
he gave forty thousand gold dinars.
He gave his possessions, his kingdom, smooth and easy,
and chose for himself a blanket.
From the latticed window of faith
he gazed upon the garden of Paradise.
His sincerity was the pattern-maker of his grace and glory;
his pain was the salve for his heart and liver.
XXI. In Praise of the Commander of the Faithful, Umar al-Faruq
ستایش امیرالمؤمنین عمر الفاروق رضی اللٰه عنه — In praise of the Commander of the Faithful, Umar al-Faruq, may God be pleased with him.
The justice of Umar, from his sincerity,
was the mirror of the truth of Abu Bakr's face.
He was the mine of Islam and the adornment of faith;
his sincerity was the mine of intellect and justice.
Faith in the time of Abu Bakr was a crescent;
then through Umar it found glory and perfection —
for the foot of Islam kicked all the way to Ayyuq
when Umar loosened the knot.
The ta of seeking sought Umar and found him;
from the midst of meanness it shone upon him.
When his heart was verified by God,
it became the shell of the pearl of the vision of God.
He whose work reached perfection at his time —
the compass returned to the head of the point.
XXII. On His Justice
در عدل وی رضیاللٰه عنه — On his justice, may God be pleased with him.
His justice was equal to the decree;
his command ran swift as destiny.
He made the grove a sanctuary like the Sacred Precinct;
he made the trap for the bird like a garden of Iram.
By his command, with permission,
all withdrew from every evil.
By his justice, with burning of heart,
the wolf made sweet sport with the life of the sheep.
When he passed judgement of the faith on the great,
the sky recited blessings on his command.
His daring on the Day of Resurrection
was like Venus — joy-awakening.
Beneath the light, before the Reckoning,
his justice was fitting for the Scales of the Gathering.
He made equal — solar and lunar —
the caliphate of Umar.
Persia and Syria, through his watch and justice,
he opened like his own heart and hand.
His soul was the meaning of equity;
his substance and foundation were no idle boast.
Hail, his justice! And his might!
Blessed, the days of his fortune!
With severity he opened Syria and Persia;
he seized from Rome its loads of gold and silver.
He sent Sa'd ibn Abi Waqqas
and Amr ibn al-As — those two free men, those two guides —
to Persia, and sent them both.
In place of oppression, he gave justice.
At Nahavand, when the war grew fierce
and unbelief and Islam clashed,
from the extremity of his acuity and pain
he brought about such a stratagem.
He saw the trick of the infidels from afar
with that heart full of the light of insight.
On a Friday, from the top of the pulpit,
he said: "O Sariya! Beware the enemy!
The mountain! The mountain! — for the army of unbelief
has laid a trap, a trick, at the door of unbelief."
Sa'd heard his word;
he saw the whole ambush of the infidels.
The mountain split, and Sa'd and Amr
heard the voice, and the secret was laid bare.
From that ambush they became aware;
the army turned back from that narrow pass.
The infidels, for that reason, were broken;
they were killed wretchedly and bound.
I have kept these virtues brief
for the sake of that penetrating face and mind.
In two words, for the sake of one brevity,
I shall say three things from the tongue of need.
Through Umar the life of the kingdom grew long;
through Umar the gate of the law was opened.
Through Umar, faith found lustre and honour —
here is a chosen successor for the faith!
Before the faith, Umar was a shield;
in the law, Umar was a guide.
On the Day of the Gathering, his two eyes will be bright
through God and the Messenger and justice and the Sunna.
A hundred mercies from us in this hour —
let them reach his spirit, full of obedience.
The kingdom, in safety and in faith,
had as the child of his justice — Uthman.
Faith through him was glad and established;
through his death the lustre of faith increased.
Whatever of word and excellence is with Umar
is pure Sunna and the grace of the Command.
XXIII. In Praise of the Commander of the Faithful, Uthman
ستایش امیرالمؤمنین عثمان رضیاللٰه عنه — In praise of the Commander of the Faithful, Uthman, may God be pleased with him.
Sometimes alongside Umar he showed a flaw;
when it came to Haydar, he simply did not reach.
He who sat in the place of the Chosen One —
shame upon his lips sealed the way of the sermon.
That was not from stammering — it was from shame,
for his soul knew its own unworthiness.
What wonder if he dropped his shield?
The shame of Uthman — from the awe of the Prophet.
XXIV. In Praise of the Commander of the Faithful, Ali ibn Abi Talib
ستایش امیرالمؤمنین علیبن ابیطالب علیهالسلام — In praise of the Commander of the Faithful, Ali ibn Abi Talib, peace be upon him.
He — from grace, the scourge of the hall of vanity;
he — the standard-bearer and the knowledge-bearer of the Messenger.
That Israfil, exalted through knowledge;
that Angel of Death to the demon of greed, through his forbearance.
He who sacrificed, upon the path of surrender,
both father and son — like Abraham.
He whose crown of religion was in the Law —
and he who was the plunderer of disbelief and hatred.
For the decree of surrender, a Friend of God by right —
at the court of the Law, a deputy by right.
Without hearing interpretation from the Chosen One —
Revelation became disclosed to his heart.
The Chosen One's eyes brightened by his face —
Zahra rejoiced when he became her husband.
The honour of the swift-turning heaven was around him —
in speech and in iron he was its man.
The garden of the Sunna he renewed by command —
whatever had grown wild he made tame.
Never from anger did he sever a head —
except by command did he draw the sword.
Khaybar was laid waste by his sword —
all its wellsprings became mirages.
Never for the sake of purse or slaves
did he make the people his enemy.
Every enemy whom he felled —
at that moment, the Angel of Death carried him from his place.
And whoever he struck with his religion-adorning blow —
the name was upon his hand, and the striker was God.
His name was derived from the name of the Most High —
wherever he went, Truth was his companion.
He had stripped pride from the clan of the Rock —
he had shown a Resurrection in ready coin.
The sleep and rest of the bitter and the brute
he turned upside down in the brain of reason.
From the door of disbelief, raising roses —
keeper of the gate of religion.
Whoever was not eloquent, he made speak —
and whoever was not receptive, he was his slayer.
He made the pen of the sand drunk with blood
from the enemies of religion, like a cloud.
His strength uprooted the fortress of Khaybar —
the door of knowledge and action was taken through him.
As his senses were great and mighty —
the ether-cloud was conquered by him.
With two swords that lion of religion, cloudless,
made all of Islam one single blade.
With his two swords — Dhulfiqar and his tongue —
he made one single blade like the arrow of the world.
One sword was a tongue that scattered jewels —
through which he made the knowledge of the world manifest.
The other was Dhulfiqar the cutting —
the bane of the soul of the roaring lion.
From those two swords drawn in the world —
he made the Law like arrow and pen.
The light of his knowledge tasted of Kawthar —
the grace of his sword was the slayer of the infidel.
In the battle-line his foot was firm —
in pursuit of the mystery his soul was intimate.
His strength was idol-shattering on the Day of Eternity —
his hand struck the sword at the height of Saturn.
Both pre-eminent in the knowledge of fear and hope —
and a champion like the lion and the sun.
The ear of sedition was deafened by his war-drum —
victory and triumph kissed his ground.
His heart and arm, unseen by the eye —
the hand prevailed through the manliness of wrath.
His hand and sword bound the feet of disbelief —
his awe broke the neck of the enemy.
In the battle where he planted his foot —
fortunate was the one whose hand he grasped.
On the night of Yalda, the lamp was from him —
on the day of battle, the fury was from him.
Gabriel the Trustworthy came from the Lote-Tree —
teaching him the cry: "There is no champion!"
A Dhulfiqar that from God's paradise
had been sent to destroy idolatry.
He brought it before the Prophet and said:
"This is fit for Haydar.
"So that through it your religion may be manifest —
and the army of disbelief scattered and destroyed."
The Chosen One gave it to Ali and said:
"With this, bring the religion out from concealment."
Neither courage was the motive of his manliness —
nor victory the cause of his chivalry.
He drew the sword from such a garden of devotion
that there was no penalty upon him in religion.
Since it was not from wrath but from faith —
the slaying of greed and of the infidel were the same to him.
His day was idol-shattering from the Day of Eternity —
his hand struck the sword at the height of Saturn.
To the Prophet, both executor and son-in-law —
the Prophet's soul was gladdened by his beauty.
O Kharijite, if doubt is within you —
disbelief and religion are the same to you, from ignorance.
No one saw his back in battle —
idolatry was routed by a single finger of his.
The House of Yasin found honour through him —
God chose him for knowledge.
The deputy of the Chosen One on the Day of Ghadir —
who made him Commander in the Law.
He had read the secret of the Quran with his heart —
the knowledge of both worlds had become his.
When he spoke with such eloquence —
the listener strung pearls from that discourse.
His gentleness was the gentleness of the Prophet —
his severity was a fierce male lion.
Whoever saw his sword unsheathed —
the path of incarnation was negated for him.
You drew, from the arrogance of disbelief,
your sword against the face of Haydar the Champion.
In intellect and religion, with sword and pen —
he wove valour and generosity together.
In religion and realm he was called the Chosen —
both the door of knowledge and its standard-bearer.
The soul of chivalry and the body of religion —
the king of the Sunna and the Rostam of the faith.
The honour of the Law and the judge of religion was he —
the shell of the pearl of the House of Yasin was he.
His dignity was receptive of God's secret —
his trustworthiness was the landing-place of God's revelation.
The very breath of his soul inhaled Revelation —
the very core of his spirit tasted Interpretation.
Offered to that beauty and nature —
the seven weeks of the eight paradises.
Eyes became seeing from his countenance —
ears became candelabras from his speech.
His sword was the foundation of the sky's arrow —
the bow had been in the house of misfortune.
Wherever that heart and tongue were —
wit was like an arrow, and like a bow.
He struck the head of heresy with the sword of the tongue —
he washed the face of the Sunna with the water of the lance.
He made honour from ruby and pearl —
he filled the hem of the Resurrection with jewels.
For the sake of the souls of the people of skill —
he enclosed in one word two caskets of jewels.
He was the pilgrim of the Kaaba of the soul —
he was the intimate of God's secret.
His praise was mingled with the heavens —
upon the wide earth, like the Encompassing Sea.
In the land of the Arabs, his eloquence —
in the land of Persia, his valour.
He split the sun and moon in two —
the light of his pens across that realm.
A hundred thousand oceans — his heart their shell;
a hundred thousand thrones — his clay their honour.
This one stripped bare of the burden of form —
that one emerged from the curtain of the letter.
To such a degree was he honoured —
"If the veil were lifted" was given to him in full.
Obedient and subject to the Chosen One —
he had heard all the mysteries of religion.
For his sake the Chosen One said to his people:
"O Lord, befriend whoever befriends him."
God's grace was the guide of his way —
his character was the joy of his clan.
Whoever sought opposition in religion —
he would bury beneath the dust.
Demons wept at his sport —
reason laughed in following him.
The lord of the age was his servant —
the master of the time was his Qanbar.
Whoever is an enemy to the body and a friend to God —
knows that "those firmly grounded in knowledge" is he.
He held religion's sanctity as the vessel of his soul —
the burden of the letter did not stand before him.
He was the scribe of the page of Revelation —
the treasurer of the storehouse of Interpretation.
His knowledge, which made rock into wax —
was like a sacred precinct, and the Arabs were cut off from it.
He was the world of knowledge and the ocean of skill —
he was the eye and the lamp of the Prophet.
The ocean of knowledge had boiled within him —
he found the well better than the listener.
The keeper of God's secrets was the Prophet —
the keeper of the Prophet's secrets was Haydar.
A Haydar whom God called Lion —
when did he strike the sword against Mu'awiya?
The lion does not trouble the fox —
but will not leave a hundred onagers alive.
Reason was bathed in the water of his face —
error never came near his religion.
Through intellect-stirring enigmas —
he sharpened nature, market, mind, and thought.
When the word of the Quran saw his poverty —
it displayed itself before him.
He was the ocean of love and the mine of the heart —
he was the eye of the Law and the soul of religion.
The Chosen One was for the sake of his soul and body —
not for the sake of his hat and shirt.
His name was made in the province of knowledge —
Ali from knowledge, and Abu Turab from forbearance.
The Essence of the Creator saw injustice from this —
that he was unseen and unworshipped.
Again he knew, in the world of renewal —
in the heart, the image of the self from the prophetic.
The carpet of divine unity was the soul of his being —
the dam of Islam was his sword and his hand.
When one whose Moon of Religion is with him —
and the Pleiades are his follower and subject —
was not this bond from before? —
From eternity to eternity they were companions.
The dust became equal with the Pleiades —
when Ali became brother to the Prophet.
For a man, reason is the counsellor —
the foolish fortune-teller is the woman.
Ali — whom God made —
his soul was the companion of the soul of the Chosen One.
On the journey before that strong-in-faith —
he was like the vulture behind the stars.
Both were one prayer-direction, though their wisdoms were two —
both were one spirit, though their bodies were two.
Both were one pearl from one shell —
both were the ornament of honour.
Two travellers, like star and sky —
two brothers, like Moses and Aaron.
For a petitioner's sake, with a loaf or two —
the Sura of "Hal Atā" was his robe of honour.
His mine was the strung pearl of the King —
the Preserved Tablet, the Chosen One's soul.
The shadow of his servants, from the path of forbearance —
the model for his lovers, from the head of knowledge.
The secret of divine unity in this rose-garden —
was clear before his precious soul.
A wind seeking justice like spring —
a ruler of strong love and loose rein.
On the road of service to God's Messenger —
in this demon-displaying workshop.
He did not speak the knowledge of religion boldly to anyone —
for the heart was narrow and the knowledge was vast.
To the questioners, openly and in secret —
he spoke the Law's secret only in measure.
The husband of the Pure One tore off the gate of Khaybar —
the Messenger entrusted the gate of religion to him.
Since he could fill the pit of disbelief —
he knew how to guard the well of religion also.
The strength of his regret at missing prayer
kept the heavens from the rose-garden.
Until the Rostam of religion seated
the King of Heaven once more in the saddle.
Within Ali's heart, on every side —
Throne and Footstool were like half a coin and a penny.
The Zamzam of grace is the water of his pen —
the Kaaba of the people of merit is his letter.
When his pen became companion to his hand —
strands of pearls joined from a single point.
Each one a ghayn, and a hundred thousand moons —
each one a dāl, and a hundred thousand pearls.
For his ghayn was aware of the Unseen —
his dāl was companion to the pain of religion.
Remember a portion of a single letter —
how could such a pen be raw?
Those words that, on the subject of feasting and the guest,
he sent to Sahl ibn Hunayf.
Every word that he uttered
was the fingertip of the Chosen One.
Was it not in childhood that his father
brought him near the bearer of the News?
The Master brought his finger to his mouth —
brought a drop of water to his tongue.
He moistened the tip of his own finger —
then placed it in the mouth of Haydar.
He gave him manliness and knowledge and the guarding of the word —
his fingertip, from the root of the nail.
For his profit and his capital —
the Chosen One's fingertip became his wet-nurse.
Inevitably, from that nourishment and that finger —
he nurtured the religion and slew the disbelievers.
The fingertip became the splitter of the moon —
and Haydar's speech became like Mount Qaf.
Like the sun of the Law, shining —
steadfast and firm and enduring.
The Messenger of the Almighty said of him:
"O God, guard him from the wicked."
The tongue of the Law, for the sake of his conduct —
the Chosen One named him for his inner sight.
His knowledge, for the sake of one teaching —
spoke in the treasury to the gold and silver.
When he saw two heaps, of this and of that —
he was amazed: from this, the heart; from that, the soul.
"Deceive another, O vain one —
you are not fit nor worthy of us.
"I do not look toward your straps —
nor do I listen to what is in your sack."
His aspiration was not a slave to existence —
his work was nothing but prostration and generosity.
His forbearance was the guide of the heavens —
his knowledge was the lord of the age.
He employed forbearance on the Day of the Camel —
he pardoned the enemy's discord and debate.
Again, with his adversary at Siffin —
he employed against the foe a weighty counsel.
The crown of his forbearance surpassed the Pleiades —
the throne of his knowledge was set at the door of religion.
Until Haydar's knowledge opened the door —
the Sunna of the Prophet bore no fruit.
In the house of annihilation and the kingdom of religion —
Haydar was the realm and the Kawthar of religion.
In standing and sitting, he burned like aloes-wood —
in bowing and prostration, he practised generosity.
He gave his ring here at the door of mystery —
and received a kingdom there in return, with grace.
His self was to him like a demon's pit —
the sky was to him a divine rope.
The sword of his wrath was luminous, luminous —
the sea of his knowledge was a Ghadir, a Ghadir.
When he showed his teeth to the enemies —
the world grew narrow for the foe, like a mouth.
He could have crushed his enemy —
but his enemy wailed against him.
He did not make wrath the companion of his will —
he did nothing without permission.
If a head arose against him in the age —
he would first sever this one, then that.
If he had attacked with reckless fury like warriors —
he would have made Rome like the hair of Africans.
Mars's heart would have come trembling from fear —
like the soul of an orphan.
Saturn in its station, bewildered —
the eye of Venus gazing toward the moon.
In wonder at his arrow's wound, Mercury —
back bent like a bow and face like gold.
The deputy of the Creator was Haydar —
the master of Dhulfiqar was Haydar.
His love and his wrath were the proof of the pulpit and the gallows —
his forbearance and his fury were the dividers of Paradise and Hell.
The water of his face carried away the lustre of the angels —
the wind of his resolve stilled the turning of the sky.
When the dust of his arrow took flight —
it tore open the collar of the mountain's hem.
When the Lion of God opened his claws —
the face of the sky became like the back of a leopard.
When the rock saw the wound of his hand's sword —
its soul fled from its body in an instant.
Dhul-Khimar, from the terror of his sword —
saw him victorious over his own soul.
Before his sword, in shame and renown, in battle —
a man appeared like a mandrake.
In this world and in that world —
he is the master of knowledge and the companion of the banner.
When the eye saw Ali's character and generosity —
musk became blood once more from shame.
Both he kept short and unfit —
from without, the hand; from within, the need.
He was content with a morsel of sustenance —
fear of God was the barrier to greed and striving.
He was not that lion which perfume and rouge
would tame in this old chest.
The sky was his old age and the dust was his path —
reason was his wise woman and his glance was a lover.
He, for the sake of perfection, freed from bonds —
and for the sake of beauty, content.
He read over corrupt old age and authority —
three divorces and four takbirs.
A child may endure without gold and red —
a man is not deceived by gold and red.
Haydar's soul does not cling to greed —
the lion always flees from fire.
Sovereignty and honour are fit for Ali —
the lion's fever is from cowardice.
He was a world bold as Noah —
a world vast as the spirit.
When counsel made his heart a proof —
the Law made the sky a narrow field.
He was constantly in noble discourse and speech —
until the pain of Aqil's eyes.
His heart was the world of meanings —
his speech was the Water of Life.
His union with the Pure One, in sweetness —
was under the shade of Tuba.
The vast world grew narrow upon him —
for the world was small and the man was great.
XXV. On the Battle of the Camel
صفت جنگ جمل — On the description of the Battle of the Camel.
At the Camel, when Mu'awiya fled,
much innocent blood was spilled in vain.
The rout went toward Baghdad;
he was ashamed of his own ugly deed.
The head of the free — Haydar the Champion,
the pride of the Emigrants and Helpers.
When the battle-line of Mu'awiya broke,
he gained the upper hand over Mu'awiya's army.
He hamstrung the Camel of that strife;
he undid Mu'awiya's means.
The howdah of the woman fell to the dark earth;
from shame she did not lift the veil from her face.
She said: "I have done wrong — grant me safety,
and out of mercy give me time."
When they saw it, they quickly turned away;
they did not stain themselves in her blood.
Haydar called his brother at once
and arranged all the matters properly.
Muhammad ibn Abu Bakr went to her —
all sincerity, free of every deceit.
He drew his sword to strike.
Haydar said: "Do not — for no one does such a thing.
Forgive her, that she may return home;
after this she will do no more evil."
Muhammad lifted her from the road;
the whole army became aware of the affair.
He sent her swiftly to Mecca
and established her place in humility.
With a thousand shames and confusions
she went toward Mecca, companion to heat and hardship.
In the end, by the hand of that same rebel,
she was martyred, and the tyrant killed her.
Whoever treats the wife of the Chosen One this way —
do not call such a person a man.
When this villain had finished that,
he turned his plot against the life of Haydar.
He tried to destroy him by deceit —
do not count such a person as a man.
If the son of Hind did evil to him,
know that all that evil he did to himself.
What harm is the cloud to the sun?
When will the infidel become the mate of the Muslim?
XXVI. On the Battle of Siffin and the Slaying of Ammar ibn Yasir
صفت حرب صفین و کشته شدن عمار یاسر رضی اللٰه عنه — On the description of the Battle of Siffin and the slaying of Ammar ibn Yasir, may God be pleased with him.
On the day of Siffin, when the battle was joined
and the fighting grew fierce, hand to hand,
Ammar ibn Yasir came forward:
"I would sacrifice this head of mine.
Bring the tools and furnishings of war!
And if I am slain, count me among the living.
If I sacrifice my soul for the faith,
perhaps on the Day of Gathering I shall not be disgraced."
His age had passed a hundred and five;
he drew his sword at once, in pain.
He bound a bandage upon his eyes
and mounted his horse with great difficulty.
He came to the field and spoke his lineage:
"I am the elder of the faith and the patriarch of Arabia."
He wheeled, and said his "God is greatest" —
a base man shot him with an arrow.
Quickly he fell from his horse;
in that moment he gave up his soul in pain and agony.
When they saw the man in that state,
a cry rose up from the midst at once:
"We heard from the word of the Messenger
what he said to the husband of Batul —
He said: 'Ammar is most auspicious;
his killer — know that he is accursed.'
Now he is slain — what shall we do?
Our hearts are torn apart with this pain."
All threw down their swords and shields;
they flung their helmets and armour from their heads.
When Amr ibn al-As heard this tradition,
he saw no remedy except cunning.
He said: "Your suspicion is wrong.
What is all this speech and debate?
He who brings a hundred-year-old man to war
has surely reckoned him among the dead.
So it was Ali who killed Ammar —
there is no place for blame or talk."
They were all satisfied and accepted it;
they saw the lustre of their cause in it.
He whose cunning runs along these lines —
you call him a man? That is a mistake.
With such a man, Ali would not mingle;
it is fitting that intellect should shun him.
His wrath was a cloud, and he the sun —
what standing has a cloud beside the sun?
He was to his enemies as fame to shame;
he was among men as ruby to stone.
His enemy was lower than him for this reason:
that intellect's imam was Haydar.
When the sun is behind a man,
his shadow leads him forever.
He was an imam; the light he chose was constant.
Shadow, therefore, ran before him.
He whose table was always spread with bread —
his was the prayer of the Messenger of God.
He was the sun; his enemy the cloud.
The cloud shortened the sword against him.
He did not drop his shield against his enemies;
he put forbearance to work for a time.
He gave his enemy a few days' reprieve —
and so the enemy laid a trap.
XXVII. On the Murder of the Commander of the Faithful, Ali ibn Abi Talib
قصه قتل امیرالمؤمنین علیبن ابیطالب علیهالسلام — The story of the murder of the Commander of the Faithful, Ali ibn Abi Talib, peace be upon him.
The son of Ibn Muljam, that dog of foul religion,
that one most worthy of curse and damnation.
That wretch fell in love with a woman —
more fallen than the monk of Rome.
The penniless man, when he became her lover,
unbelief became the obstacle between them.
She was of the clan of Abu Sufyan —
wealthy, well-off, beautiful, and young.
Mu'awiya became aware of this;
the man's affairs turned entirely to ruin.
He said: "Your work will be brought to perfection,
and this woman will become lawful for you,
if you are lionhearted in your own affair.
The bride-price of the free woman is the blood of Ali.
If you relieve my heart of this worry,
your standing in my eyes will increase.
The woman will be yours, with a thousand graces and beauties;
no one will touch you with harm.
Horse and steed I will give you after that;
you will live in ease beside me."
That ill-starred man, for the love of a woman,
cast affliction into the world.
That root of ignorance and torpor —
blindly he chose the murder of one like Ali.
He went toward Kufa for this work,
that worthless, dust-covered man.
They told Ali all of this speech;
they hid nothing of this plot.
"Your killer is this man — slay him!"
The man of good sense gave them his answer.
He said: "Alas! To murder one's own killer —
no one has ever made such an effort."
The man watched for his chance in the work;
he persisted in his ugly deed.
On a Thursday night he went to the mosque —
that careless man, from his own stubbornness.
He went at dawn for the sake of prayer —
Amir Haydar, when he passed by the sleeper,
he saw the man sleeping. He said: "O man,
it is nearly day — arise, and profit from this road."
The villain, roused sweetly from sleep,
sat in ambush, watching for his chance.
When the Amir was occupied in prayer —
that exalted man, the companion of Batul —
the man went and struck him such a blow upon the back
that with that terrible blow he killed the man.
People came running from every side;
they tore the veil from the evildoer.
They seized him on the spot;
the wounded Amir questioned him:
"Who commanded you to this deed?"
The man confessed with his own lips:
"Mu'awiya commanded me to do this.
I have done the work — now there is no use."
Ali gave up his soul in that moment;
the household, for that reason, fell to ruin.
They mutilated the man after that;
his soul went straightway to the hell of souls.
And the one who commanded it lived happily —
what decree is this, O Lord? What can this be?
XXVIII. In Condemnation of His Enemies and Enviers
فی مذمة اعدائه و حساده — In condemnation of his enemies and enviers.
Our maternal uncle was his enemy then —
but empty of all goodness.
It was not a musk-mole upon the sun;
it was a mole upon the eye — and white at that.
He who is a man of fraud and deception —
underneath that mole, it is not an uncle but Iblis.
And he whom you now call Mu'awiya —
know that in the Abyss is his corner.
The Lion of God shuns this world;
it is a dog that does not flee from offal.
He seeks the radiance of the spirit and the fire of the breast;
he wants the Day of Badr and the Night of Power.
He who is nothing but a fool and a hypocrite —
he has no shame before the Creator, no fear of creation.
His enemies — whether slave or free —
have filled the kitchen here and hellfire there.
For the sake of a deed beneath the blue dome,
the purse can be full alongside the bowl.
What standing has the clan of Abu Sufyan
that their name should be raised upon the tongue?
The clan of Marwan and the base clan of Ziyad —
who went by no road but obstinacy.
When will a catamite be the friend of Ali?
When will Zubayr ibn al-Awwam be fit for him?
On the road of faith, the clan of Ziyad were one —
rebels, like the people of Ad.
They are far, far away in nature and disposition —
the rebels — from the gardens of paradise.
The religion of the rebel, between fear and hope,
is the greed of a morsel and the fear of a slap.
Whoever rises against Ali —
on the Day of Gathering, tell me, how will he come?
Whoever is a Kharijite and accursed —
it is right that his blood be spilled.
Then you say that prudence, forbearance, and dignity
were the companions of Mu'awiya's condition?
To rebel against him is not forbearance;
to wound Ali is not wisdom.
When could that person be wise who —
at the shop of the brain, six-sided —
for the sake of food and the wind of vanity
makes his breast like the fortress of Alamut?
For the sake of two measures of cow's butter
he makes his stomach like a mill, his throat like a trough?
He who rises against Murtada —
how can he be an imam to the wise?
The Chosen One, when departing this world —
when he prepared for the mansion of the hereafter —
all the companions said to him:
"What have you left behind?" and they grew agitated.
He said: "I have left the Speech of God.
Look well after my family."
And my companions, who are my deputies —
they are all like the light of my eyes.
He who seeks cunning and treachery from Iblis —
how could he know the worth of Idris?
Ali was not abased by the base —
how would a lion be with sheep?
He left the form of the kingdom, which had no soul,
for the sake of a man of form.
He took the kingdom of meaning and rode it well;
he recited the verse of his own deposition.
The heart of anyone whose love of him is empty —
that is no heart: it is fraud and cunning.
The heart of one whose love is joined to his
is delivered from the officers of the Day of Gathering.
Do not be heedless of the clan of Hashim
and of "the hand of God is above their hands."
God gave the milk of this world to all —
but weaning He did not give to Fatima.
He removed those two ugly infidels;
He burned out those two kinds of fire.
His motive was not the impulse of manhood;
no reward was the cause of his chivalry.
Whoever is not good to Ali —
whoever you say, I have no love for him.
Whoever is with Ali — know him as faith;
otherwise know him as filth drawn in the dirt.
Our uncle gave the world
poison to the light of the eye of Zahra.
Whoever has such an uncle —
what business has he with Ali?
If you must have an uncle after all,
consider the son of Abu Bakr as uncle.
Aisha is better than his sister;
our uncle is better than her brother.
Hafsa and Zaynab and the second Zaynab —
she whose father was Khuzayma.
Then Maymuna and Rayhana —
through whom the house was adorned.
But when it fell to the daughter of Abu Sufyan —
through whom the household was ruined:
all these were the wives of the Chosen One;
they were all our mothers.
Each of them had brothers
who were like the soul to the Chosen One.
Why is our uncle singled out
as the son of Sufyan — the ruin of our state?
O Sanai, do not draw the speech out long;
brevity is better than an ugly story.
This is no place for prolixity in speech;
keep the discourse brief.
Pass beyond idle speech
so that you may rest through the months and years.
O Sanai, speak beautiful words
in praise of the chosen Amir Hasan —
the delight of the eye of the Chosen One,
the King of Islam and the law and the Emperor of faith.
XXIX. In Praise of Imam Hasan and Imam Husayn
در ستایش امام حسن و امام حسین رضیاللٰه عنهما — In praise of Imam Hasan and Imam Husayn, may God be pleased with them both.
[Section XXIX — source text not fully extracted. Awaiting completion by next translator.]
XXX. On the Excellence of the Commander of the Faithful, Hasan ibn Ali
در فضیلت امیرالمؤمنین حسنبن علی علیهالسلام — On the excellence of the Commander of the Faithful, Hasan ibn Ali, peace be upon him. "The mention of Hasan drives away grief."
Abu Ali — he whose fragrant spirit
carries the scent of Ali in his tresses.
He was the delight of the eye of the Chosen One;
he was the lord of the people of the chosen.
The pearl of the sea in that shell was he;
the rightful heir of the prophets was he.
The liver and soul of Ali and Zahra;
the eye and heart of the Beloved and the Master.
Like spring to the lowly and the noble:
just, beautiful, pure, and gentle.
The sky was his garment; the mountain, his coverlet;
the moon, his throne; the sun and the Pleiades, his crown.
In sovereignty, honour is confirmed through him;
in the message, the Messenger and the Master are his.
His lineage in sovereignty is from the Sultan;
his reckoning in felicity is from God.
Like Ali in the deputyship of prophecy —
Kawthar to the caller, enemy to the pretender.
The letter of the friend tells the tale of his heart;
what is better for the friend than a letter from the friend?
The path of sincerity stands in his proofs;
leadership lives in his signs.
He was like his grandfather in the great character —
pure of creation, noble of lineage, and generous.
He was a piece from the heart of Zahra;
his grandmother was Khadija the Great.
The poison of the enemy's wrath destroyed him;
the lack of antidote made him wretched.
Purity does not come from the shameless;
aloes-wood does not come from the smoke of the acacia.
The moon showed a crescent in his eye;
poison in his palate tasted like clear water —
for through that intermediary, the tasting of poison,
and that enduring of the enemy's wrath,
his soul leapt forth from the passage of the throat
and was delivered from the baseness of creation.
On the day of falsehood, when truth goes hidden,
do not count the people of truth as less than blind.
When falsehood's foot twists the arm,
the wise man's heart hastens toward death.
When the world makes a pimp its commander,
Zal-e Zar's face turns the colour of Zarir.
Though this evil came upon his face,
the back of fortune turned toward him.
He was, through all this heavy-heartedness, every day,
like the sun — the city-illuminer of the age.
That one of beautiful countenance and great lineage,
that lamp of the Arabs in knowledge and piety —
he sought, like intellect, for the sake of shelter;
honour from his noble station sought him.
His mind was like a sea in the law —
firm of root and towering of branch.
His seat and his resting-place were above the spheres;
his drinking-place was pure beyond the world.
The source of his lineage and the spring of his heart
were from the Pool of his grandfather and his father.
From the generosity of his hand, his household remained flourishing;
the household of prophecy, through his honour.
XXXI. On the Cause of the Murder of Hasan ibn Ali
سبب قتل امیرالمؤمنین حسنبن علی علیهالسلام — On the cause of the murder of the Commander of the Faithful, Hasan ibn Ali, peace be upon him.
His enemies made the wide world
narrow upon him, like the inside of a furnace.
Without cause the enemy sought his life;
he knew it, and still he granted them pardon.
A second time the enemy rose against him —
without fault, they wanted him dead.
Then a third time they resolved firmly —
a draught of poison, as in the first.
That unclean one prepared it and gave it —
may the world be free of such a "pure" woman.
A hundred and seventy and more pieces of liver
he cast out from those lips like sugar.
He gave his life in that grief and sorrow —
may the curse fall upon his enemy's cup.
The praised lord Husayn said to him —
that ornament and saddle of the nobles:
"Tell me — who gave you the poison of the soul?"
He said: "Slander is unbecoming of Hasan.
My grandfather was Mustafa, the sanctuary of the age;
my father was Murtaza, the trustee of the world.
My grandmother was Khadija, the beauty of the age;
my mother was Fatima, the lamp of paradise.
All of them were, from treachery and slander,
pure and spotless in mind and heart and soul.
I too am of their womb and their back,
though I am scattered by grief among the multitude.
I will not slander, nor will I be a slanderer —
God Himself knows the end and the beginning.
He is knowing of the hidden and the manifest,
as He is mighty over the first and the last.
Whoever commanded this, and whoever gave consent —
they will find their reckoning on the Day of Reckoning.
And if on the Day of Gathering God Almighty
grants me entrance to the neighbourhood of paradise —
I will not enter paradise until
He places in my hand the hand of my ill-wisher."
Why should I speak in riddles about the state of things?
In this matter there is no place for equivocation.
I will speak the truth — whom should I fear?
What is certain has become clear before me.
Ju'da bint al-Ash'ath — that evil woman —
gave him the poisoned cup through cunning.
Who sent it to him? Tell me!
Break the pitcher at the stream's lip.
Who was it that seized this opportunity?
Upon him be the curse for all eternity —
who accepted from him silver by the thousands,
gold and jewels beyond reckoning.
Pearls of India and strands of pearl
that came from India's inheritance:
"This fine necklace I give to you —
I bestow it on you and send it forth.
If you complete this task,
you will make yourself a good name.
I will give you in marriage to my son —
you will be my daughter in soul and body."
So she did what was to be done —
but from that evil deed she gained no profit.
What had been promised, he gave her nothing;
instead he placed fire in her mouth.
When the father said to the son: "Your wife
shall be Ju'da, for she is a worthy woman" —
he said: "That woman who ten times with Hasan
showed no mercy for his soul,
who on a lie would scatter his head to the wind,
remembering neither God nor the Messenger —
tell me, how should I set my heart on her?
How should I consent to take her as wife?
With such a person, whose desire runs crooked —
where would her loyalty to me be found?"
She wasted her soul on this deed in vain —
forever she remains in hellfire.
She departed and took her infamy with her —
what is worse in the world than self-serving?
A hundred thousand blessings from God Almighty
upon Hasan, until the Day of Reckoning.
The tidings of that fire-filled heart of his —
you shall hear only from his brother.
XXXII. On the Virtues of the Commander of the Faithful, Husayn ibn Ali
در مناقب امیرالمؤمنین حسینبن علی علیهماالسلام — On the virtues of the Commander of the Faithful, Husayn ibn Ali, peace be upon them both.
The son of Murtaza, the lord Husayn —
whose like was not found in either world.
The seat of honour, the eminence of his nobility;
the majesty of faith, the purity of his grace.
The wellspring of religion, the genuineness of his lineage;
the station of religion, the refinement of his courtesy.
His root was in the earth of the highest heavens;
his branch was in the sky of certainty.
His root and branch were all loyalty and giving;
his pardon and his wrath were all serenity and contentment.
His form was like the pure form of his father;
his character was like the character of the Prophet.
Before his eyes this world was contemptible;
before his mind the hereafter was esteemed.
His aspiration was beyond the summit of the Throne;
his name was spread across all the earth.
Mustafa had carried him upon his shoulders;
Murtaza had nurtured him in his embrace.
Zahra had found solace in his face;
month after month, year after year, she prayed over his soul.
His insight could discern
everyone's lineage from their conduct.
He was pure in root and spotless in branch;
blessed in seed and fair in harvest.
A prophetic jewel from the sea of majesty —
finding beauty through the perfection of truth.
In head and face and breast, in appearance,
he was the very likeness of Ahmad the Chosen.
A pearl from the sea of Mustafa —
his shell was the back of Murtaza.
His origin, for those who seek the essence,
was the soul of the Prophet and the loins of the Heir.
He was from Haydar as the signet-ring is from Jamshid;
he was from Ahmad as light is from the sun.
In the casket of guidance was his protection;
the dregs of his religion was still piety.
Reason was bound to his covenant;
Gabriel had been the one who rocked his cradle.
He was the cypress of the stream of guidance —
a cypress with crown and robes and mantle.
All firm roots point by God's sign
absolutely toward this cypress.
That likeness of the Prophet, adornment of the world —
heir of Mustafa, the lord Husayn.
Like Mustafa in root and generosity,
he held honour, lineage, and character all as one.
His love was a first thing without an end;
his secret was an inward thing without an outward.
Like bamboo-chalk in the time of his influence —
to the fevered liver, his sweetness was the Tuba-tree.
His fevered liver — from clear water
they debarred him, the people of tyranny and error.
Wrath cannot look upon his origin —
for he was the liver-piece of the Prophet. And wrath?
Noble reason became noble through him;
the shadow's shadow came from the sun of his palm.
The field of his root and branch was heart and soul;
the seedbed of his sowing was faith.
A branch from the root-garden of Mustafa;
a pearl from the casket of prophethood.
In him — more than the cypress and before the grass —
there is not, like straw-matting, the smell of hypocrisy.
He was Mars to the army of hardship;
he was Venus to the feast of joy.
May mercy be upon his friends;
upon his enemies, the curse.
XXXIII. On the Martyrdom of Husayn ibn Ali at the Command of Yazid
صفت قتل حسینبن علی علیهالسلام به اشاره یزید علیه اللعنة — On the description of the martyrdom of Husayn ibn Ali, peace be upon him, at the signal of Yazid, upon him the curse.
His enemies sought his life
until they destroyed his body utterly.
Amr ibn al-As struck a counsel of corruption;
he kicked the Law in the face with blind arrogance.
He pledged allegiance to the vile Yazid
to raise dust from the House of the Prophet.
He abandoned all shame and decency;
he set a host of enemies upon him.
So that by letters and by cunning
they might drag him from Medina to the killing-ground.
When he made Karbala his station and resting-place,
suddenly the house of Ziyad rushed upon him.
They blocked the road to the Euphrates;
his heart they wounded with that affliction and grief.
Amr ibn al-As and Yazid the ill-starred
cast their shields at the head of the water.
Shimr and Ubaydallah ibn Ziyad the accursed —
may their souls be yoked to damnation.
They drew their swords without shame —
neither fearing God nor ashamed before men.
They severed his head from his body with the sword
and in that deed they saw profit.
His body was torn to pieces by the enemy's sword —
the house of Marwan looked on.
In Damascus, the vile Yazid
waited until the head arrived.
He set it before him and made merry;
he leaned on the world and its false securities.
He made an idol of his own speech, dictating
that this was an ancient festivity, and proclaimed it.
His cursed hand upon those lips and teeth —
he struck them with a rod, smiling.
The vendetta of the Khazraj, the tale of the lance —
that ugly requital and that handiwork.
The grudge of forefathers, steeped in Husayn's blood —
seeking vengeance for Badr and Hunayn.
Shahrbanu and Zaynab weeping,
left bewildered at the deeds of the worthless.
Bare-headed upon the camel and its pack-saddle —
before them, crying out from the pain of the heart.
Ali al-Asghar standing on his feet —
and those dogs of oppression, content with themselves.
Amr ibn al-As and Yazid and Ibn Ziyad —
like the peoples of Thamud and Salih and Ad.
Those dogs persisted in their cruelty;
out of malice they took the road of denial.
In the path of injustice, they never once
remembered Mustafa or Murtaza.
They cast aside all courtesy;
they made ugly the way of dealing.
They prepared Hell for themselves;
they chose Abu al-Hakam over Ahmad.
They blocked the road of honour and shame;
they broke the covenant and compact of the Law.
XXXIV. On the Description of Karbala and the Fragrance of the Blessed Shrine
در صفت کربلا و نسیم مشهد معظم — On the description of Karbala and the fragrance of the exalted shrine.
How blessed is Karbala, and that majesty
that brings to creation a breeze from paradise.
And those headless bodies in mud and dust;
and those precious ones, their hearts cleft by the sword.
And those bodies, heads rolling in the dust —
headless bodies fallen low.
And that chosen one of all the world, slain —
his body soaked in mud and blood.
And those oppressors of evil conduct
who persisted in their oppression.
The sanctity of religion and the House of the Messenger —
they cast it all aside in ignorance and presumption.
Swords ruby-coloured with Husayn's blood —
what in the world is worse than this disgrace?
The evil-doer placed a crown upon his head —
yet fairer than that crown was the saw.
Wounds of sword and lance and arrowhead —
the head on the spear-point in the place of the spearhead.
The House of Yasin, all of them giving their lives —
helpless, humiliated, forsaken, and thirsty.
The house of Ziyad and Shimr the accursed
began this ruin in the faith.
Mustafa's garments were all torn;
Ali rained blood from his eyes.
Fatima scratched her face;
blood poured without limit from her eyes.
Hasan's breast was bruised from the wound;
Zaynab drove her cheeks forth with weeping eyes.
Shahrbanu grown old and grief-stricken;
Ali al-Asghar, those two wrinkled cheeks.
A whole world grown bold in cruelty —
dead foxes become raging lions.
Infidels who in the first combat
had been laid low by the blows of Dhulfiqar —
all of them bore a hundred brands of Ali on their hearts;
all became companions of transgression and rebellion.
They sought the vendetta of the heart from Husayn —
content with this mockery and this shame.
Whoever speaks ill of those dogs —
know that he is the king of this world.
XXXV. A Parable on the Longing for the Blessed Shrine
التمثل فی الاشتیاق الی المشهد المعظم — A parable on the longing for the exalted shrine. "A righteous woman is better than a thousand evil men."
There was in the city of Kufa an old woman —
aged, frail, and long-tried.
She was of the children of Mustafa and Ali,
left alone, tried, without beloved or protector.
A few small children under her hand, orphans —
content from Karbala with only a breeze.
The old woman, every morning at first light,
would take the children to the road.
She would come out from the heart of the city,
her eyes full of blood from the oppressors' cruelty.
At the road to Karbala she would stand
and draw a sigh from the pain of her heart.
She would say to the children: "Breathe in!
Smell this good wind well!
Before it enters the city,
weep for its share from the shrine's breeze.
For once the wind has crossed the city,
it becomes soiled by every nose.
Take your portion of this wind entirely —
do not let it pass to the unworthy and the enemy."
I am the servant of a woman who surpasses
a hundred men in the day of trials and endurance.
She knows the worth of the lord Husayn;
she does not shrink from the cruelties of the enemy.
XXXVI. On the Persistence of the Enemies and Rebels
صفة اصرار الاعداء والباغین لعنهماللٰه — On the persistence of the enemies and rebels, God's curse upon them.
When a man lets go of his honour,
do what you will — for "do as you please."
Whoever is content with an ugly deed —
for such a person, what difference between Hell and paradise?
The wise man laughs at the one
who accepts fire for his own sake —
who foolishly sells religion for the world,
does no good and strives in evil.
Blindly content with the blood of Husayn —
whose worth exceeded both worlds.
Whoever claims this vile one as kinsman —
how can he be the believers' cousin?
I am free of this "cousin,"
for from his father too my heart is wounded.
Then you say: "Yazid is my lord;
Amr ibn al-As the vile is my elder."
Whoever takes Amr ibn al-As as elder
and the vile Yazid as commander —
is deserving of punishment and cursing;
evil of path, evil of deed, and evil of faith.
The curse of the Just One upon whoever
remembers them with kindness.
I am no friend of Shimr and Yazid;
from that tribe I stand at far remove.
Whoever is content with evildoing —
the curse becomes a collar around his neck.
From Sanai, upon the soul of the lord Husayn,
a hundred thousand praises are an everlasting debt.
XXXVII. In Praise of Imam Abu Hanifa
ستایش امام ابوحنیفه رضیاللٰه عنه — In praise of Imam Abu Hanifa, may God be pleased with him.
When religion passed from these noble men,
the people became bewildered in the faith.
The counsel of Nu'man reconciled them all
once more with Islam.
The sun of the heaven of goodness —
the full moon of religion, Abu Hanifa of Kufa.
For the sake of the world's well-being,
he placed the marrow of the Sunna into every soul.
Beneath the azure dome he stood —
the proof of truth on the highway of God.
His heart, like the head of reason, was alert;
his body, like the heart of destiny, was awake.
The seat of religion was defined by his road;
he was the Preserved Tablet of Ahmad's Law.
He was the leader of the imams of religion;
knowledge, forbearance, and generosity were his way.
God's grace made him his own king —
while the King of Kings was subject to his wisdom.
For the sake of his discernment and guidance,
kings stood beneath his banner.
He saw, without intermediary of report or transmission,
the face of the Sunna through the window of reason.
He was the proof of root and branch of faith;
the bounty of the Law's table was Nu'man.
Like a father he was firm in the principles;
like a prophet he worked and showed the way.
His days were immersed in knowledge;
all were relieved from the quarreling of sects.
His firmness was the constable on the road of faith;
the spirit of the Prophet's love was his reward.
Sky-minded and Jupiter-faced;
pious in nature and elect in deed.
On the highway of victory and triumph,
the branch and root of guidance were like his father's name.
Day and night the heavens pray for him —
from the heart of the sun, bright and pure.
May his hand be the remedy for the anxious;
may he be on the road against evil-doers.
The heart speaks in the way of prayer,
with supplication like the mother of the martyrs:
"May the soul of Abu Hanifa, from us,
be gladdened until the Day of Reckoning."
When he entered the garden of the Prophet's faith,
he lit the lamp of the Prophet's faith.
He made the road of faith easy for the people
and made all equal in the principles.
Everyone had taken their own road —
this one the road of faith, that one the road of sect.
He removed from the heavens the leopard
and drove duplicity out of the world.
His knowledge made everyone of one colour;
fraud, trickery, and pretense became nothing.
He was the crown on every preacher's head;
the throne beneath every scholar.
He turned the reins toward heaven
until, like the sun, he shone upon the world.
He never drew the sword in anger;
he never raised a shield against any foe.
He was fit for the radiance of prophethood;
he was the Preserved Tablet of Law and Sunna.
He was the key to his own treasury;
he was the lamp of the sky of Being.
His form made demons fairy-like;
his character sweetened the musk-pod's core.
In the way, he was the community's coverlet;
in the Law, he was the community's lamp.
His generosity and magnanimity, from the speed of giving,
abolished the custom of asking from the world.
On the road of Abu Hanifa of Kufa,
your feet are like the Sufi's patched robe.
And for the sake of perfection and gaining ease,
your hands are like the garment of a spring day.
And the foot of the world at the morning draught —
on his road, like hand and heart, wide open.
His sincerity in the space of holiness
spread out like the wing of a peacock.
The people before him, on the road of rectitude,
stood bewildered like a ball between bat-strokes.
All had seized themselves in their own grip;
all were at war with faith and Sunna.
He gave, for the sake of fortune and faith,
his heart and soul to excellence and certain knowledge.
Since greed and pride did not depart from your disposition,
then cursed be both your knowledge and your deeds.
The design of meaning from his pen upon the breast
was the hidden day within the Night of Power.
His fortune, like spring — ruler of the world;
his wisdom, like blossoms — both old and young.
The soul of the Messenger was gladdened by his knowledge,
for he kept the principles over the community.
Upon his soul from us, blessings and peace.
Gather us with him in the Abode of Peace.
Every imam who would speak a word —
until the Resurrection, they are his dependents.
XXXVIII. In Praise of Imam al-Shafi'i
ستایش امام شافعی رضیاللٰه عنه — In praise of Imam al-Shafi'i, may God be pleased with him.
When the lamp of the Prophet's faith went down,
the moon of Muttalib showed its face.
After the full moon of faith, not long but soon,
the sun of the age revealed its countenance.
Go and seek, if you seek with your eyes,
the road of the Law from the imam of Muttalib.
His root in the foundations and the structure —
the branch of the lineage of Ma'add ibn Adnan.
His kinship with the Messenger was unbroken;
his manners were severed from presumption.
He made the lesson of faith for the sake of sanctification —
the seat of the Sunna, Muhammad Idris.
For the sake of seekers of the light of certainty,
he dedicated himself to the door of religion.
From his own reason he built nothing upon himself;
on the road of the Law he gambled himself away.
Mustafa spoke and he heard it in his soul —
therefore he showed the proof through the Law.
Since he had read the hadith of the Messenger,
he relied no more upon himself.
Such a one as all the ages' crafts could not produce —
he conquered the enemies of God's religion.
He was, in the road of faith, an imam by right —
for the imamate befits him absolutely.
His aspiration was faith-kindling and Throne-passing;
his discernment was strife-burning and task-choosing.
He had trained in the hadith of the Prophet;
he bore the saddlecloth on his shoulder before the Heir.
The riders at his door were of ethereal steeds;
the companions of his breath were of ambergris perfume.
His generosity, like the Kaaba, drew crowds;
his character, like spring, was laughing-faced.
The Law, since he was master of this house —
all minds wore the livery of servants.
In his refinement from creation and his character —
in his elevation from knowledge and forbearance — was faith.
Religion was at ease through his fine speech;
his influence reached the entire world.
Giving is from God — the excuse is fortune;
generosity is from the cloud, and boasting from the thunder.
If the rabble scattered from him,
the Sunna of Mustafa became manifest through him.
Every hadith that Mustafa had spoken —
he explained and never hid the knowledge.
His pen became the treasury of secrets;
angels attended his lessons.
In the time of teaching and the exposition of sciences,
he was the judge and the whole world was under judgment.
His step and his desire, like the steeds of the hunt;
his flower and his light, like the days of spring.
His pure outward form governed righteousness;
his fragrant inward nature expounded the secret.
Preacher of reason and guardian of revelation;
intimate of love and confidant of exegesis.
The tranquillity of Saul's host was his forbearance;
Noah's ark for the community was his knowledge.
His form was the very essence of knowledge and learning,
for his household was exceedingly pure.
A household that is of Quraysh
is without doubt the pride of the host.
His hand is short, for the sake of Law and banner,
like the undergarment beneath the cloak of spring.
His speech was virgin and his words chaste;
his school was sound and pure.
He had found the robe of purity and virtues;
his hand and pen, at the work of Law, were firm.
From the deceit of the heavens, a believer in his trust;
from the passing of time, secure in body.
Though I am crooked, I will speak it straight:
generosity and nobility are theirs.
Religion through him found ornament and lustre;
the sects, following him, became united.
His servant were both the low and the noble —
the learned, the gnostic, the eminent, and the chaste.
Since destiny entrusted the knowledge of faith to him,
ignorance was annihilated from Islam.
Heresy was routed by his knowledge;
the seeker of knowledge went away with spoils.
XXXIX. On the Virtues of Both
فی مناقبهما رحمةاللٰه علیهما — On the virtues of both, God's mercy upon them.
Both were companions on the road of faith;
both were cup-fellows of certainty.
The one had placed his resting-place at the Pole Star;
the other had made his seat from transmitted proofs.
The one had taken his capital from argument;
the other had bound his ornament from Sunna.
The one was the beginner for the eye of the soul;
the other was the model for reason and faith.
The one was a guide on the road of rectitude;
the other was a pattern in the time of response.
The one was the ornament and beauty of the assembly;
the other had found through knowledge his station.
The one was the sun, light-increasing;
the other was the guide to God's religion.
The one was the sun of the assembly and the seat of honour;
the other was the full moon of the night in the Night of Power.
The one, through secrets, the slayer of evildoers;
the other, through reports, the receiver of tidings.
The one had plastered the house of faith with gypsum;
the other adorned it with the design of certainty.
This one a Qurayshi in origin, that one from Kufa;
this one in aspiration a jurist, that one a Sufi.
That one an imam, professor, and ascetic;
this other one devout, a man of piety and worship.
Heresy fled before the wrath of that one's sword;
purity rejoiced at the cup of this one's grace.
Both were heirs of the Messenger;
their knowledge had been accepted by the Messenger.
Both, in the house of the nation of God,
made manifest the knowledge and the causes of God.
Both were strong through independent judgment —
stars of the heaven of the Prophet.
The one had tamed through severity the men of the king;
the other had nursed the child through gentleness.
That one by argument was the lamp of the Messenger's faith;
this one by kinship was the beauty of the House of the Virgin.
That one became judge of the Law's decrees;
this one became the pure possessor of knowledge.
The Kufan on the road of faith was sufficient;
the Shafi'i was the healer of the disease of ignorance.
His kinship was the eye of the soul;
his Sunna was reason and faith.
His grace gave water to the root of religion;
his wrath laid waste the castle of unbelief.
You who are in opposition to both —
from the evil and good of both, what do you gain?
You who have exchanged religion for hatred —
what do you know of the talk of a single pain?
All are good; the bad one is you — do not do it.
There is no duality in the faith — do not make duality.
Both on the road of faith are guides and witnesses;
both on the sky of Law are Venus and Moon.
Both on the road of faith are like candle and lamp;
both in the meadow of faith are like garden and orchard.
The moon of Abu Hanifa's glory shone forth;
the fruit of the Law took the colour of the Sunna.
The Venus of al-Shafi'i ascended;
reason became obedient to him from the heart.
Both were great, each in taste and temperament —
what quarrel, O master, with your passion and stubbornness?
Who ever saw a deaf ear that knew fine speech?
Who ever heard a crooked eye that saw straight?
Both were like soul and heart, in parable;
the soul for the heart, the heart for the soul — who exchanged them?
Both their hearts were skilled in the Law;
for both, the Law of the morning was truthful.
That one, at heart, is the sword of the Middle Proof;
this one is the lamp of the Firmest Highway.
The method of this one feeds the soul;
the school of that one confirms the faith.
His proof is clear and firm;
his subtlety is manifest and fitting.
What do you know of who Abu Hanifa was?
What do you understand of what al-Shafi'i heard?
Both are good — without your adjudication.
The bad one is you, and that dog of your hostility.
The resolver of your doubt is the Quran;
the clarifier of your proof is the Furqan.
Who are you? Tell me — to them?
What do you know, at the door of such as them?
Hold your peace, for the love of God;
be silent for an hour and do not chatter nonsense.
XL. In Condemnation of Fanaticism, and Counsel to Both Parties
فی مذمة اهل التعصب و نصیحة الفریقین وفقهما اللٰه تعالی — In condemnation of the people of fanaticism, and counsel to both parties, may God guide them.
Do not kick at anything in the world, from knowledge or from opinion,
like a fool, with the back of your foot.
Do not boast for the sake of the approval of the crowd;
do not play your beads blindly, like one who knows nothing.
For the sake of a handful of donkeys, do not divert the water of the Law;
do not buy a cow without straw or cotton-seed.
For the sake of the branch, do not cut the root of the Law;
for the sake of rank, do not strike at the people's road.
Cast the dog of hatred out from under your arm;
do not come to prayer with the dog under your arm.
Your stature is bent double from bad character —
why is your stature not straight?
You have bent straight stature double,
saying: "Why is that man's stature upright?"
You are not fit to be their critic;
strike your tent — go to the dervishes.
With sultans, a beggar without strength
would do well not to push with hatred.
How long will you foolishly cling to ignorance?
How long will you mix the colour of misfortune?
Your life has gone out from the quarter of reason
in worry over "this is what" and "that is how."
"How" and "what" are the tools of your enmity;
the stone on the glass is from your own wickedness.
Speech should be spoken from the quarter of reason;
the pearl of meaning should be strung by reason.
The demon-man is far from my counsel;
the donkey does not see the angel — he is excused.
You have raised your hand against the guest,
saying: "Why does he raise his hand?"
You have made envy and malice the tools of war;
the demon of your malice has seized you in its grip.
By God, if you reach Him through God's religion —
you, with this ugly nature and passion and pride —
how would the glory of the divine
display holiness to a heedless heart?
Far, far is the heedless one from kingship,
as the secret of God is far from the fool.
You know only whims and desire and quarrel —
and works done for the sake of the crowd.
Nothing arises but desire and whim and hatred;
al-Shafi'i's is that and Abu Hanifa's is this.
If Abu Hanifa appears to you as a demon,
toward religion he was nothing but an angel.
If al-Shafi'i is to you an Abu Lahab,
in my view he is God's trustee in truth.
Both are right; the error is from you and me —
the error is from the foulness of this heart of mine and yours.
Otherwise, in the garden of faith, in the light of certainty,
they are the hyacinth of the Sunna and the lily of religion.
I said this in the way of counsel —
I came, I gave my advice, and I depart.
If you give me counsel born of ill fortune,
you teach medicine to Jesus.
The form of reason heeds counsel;
the fool puts on the garment of ignorance.
The fire of your nature, like black dust —
your honour from that is like wind, mere air.
If you are not evil, then do not hate me;
and if you are like this, do not do it in religion.
Do not give over, then, to passion and hatred,
for the noise of the commoners, your heart and faith.
For the sake of the crowd, no one will die for you;
the crowd's donkey won't bray for your barley.
I have spoken my counsel in faith;
whether you are good or evil, I am far from this.
O you — made a burden-bearer by desire —
what business have you with such nonsense?
For the sake of dogs and wolves,
do not say such things to the great.
I have shown you the road of salvation;
if you do not want it, you and your drivel.
If you do not heed a counsel of faith,
you will find your own humiliation fitting.
If from me you will not accept advice,
you and your demon — go at it, seize and be seized.
Since your seeing eyes are not yours,
this loss is not upon the people of the world.
All from the water of this two-day constitution
are fresh and moist as guts full of wind.
From desire they speak — no meaning;
like a bell, noise — and nothing but a claim.
Whoever whose eye of reason is blind
is not a man — he is a beast.
A man should see his own faults
and not sit on the road of force and gossip.
If you know your own faults,
you are not of the crowd — you are a world-guardian.
Drop these idle tales;
work your work and pass beyond speech.
If you have news of your own nature,
you need pain — for pain is the guide.
Seek religion if your grief is for religion,
for this is the key to the door of your heart.
Whoever has the pain of the heart as companion
is the one whom Gabriel greets with "Welcome."
That sour face turned upon the guest —
who in his baseness counts bread as dear as life.
I am a counsellor — hear my words well;
otherwise, hold your tongue and go to Hell.
I am a servant — a servant to the imams;
I do not heed the raw speech of the raw.
My feet are tangled in shame before the Lord;
hand upon hand — how should I clap with joy?
Though I am old in my years,
forgive the youth of my spirit.
I am renowned so that greetings and peace may reach;
I am a master so that I may be the slave of slaves.
If Abu Hanifa does not please you,
burn yourself like wild rue.
If al-Shafi'i is to you an Abu Lahab,
in my sight he is the trusted one of God.
To me, both are great ones and imams;
upon their souls from me, blessings and peace.
That one in meaning is the imam of the Quran;
this one in proof is the guide and the argument.
That one in deed is like the green ocean;
this one in speech is like Haydar the champion.
This one in meaning is the likeness of the Encircling Sea;
that one in rulings is the broad world of knowledge.
That one is like the star of Saturn;
this one, like Jupiter, shines with his own light.
The Law from this one found lustre and beauty;
heresy from that one received its blow.
That one is like the pillars of the Law;
this one is the body and soul of Islam.
Both held their independent judgment sound —
this one arriving at the end, that one beginning at the first.
The soul of the Messenger was gladdened by them both;
the striving of both left its mark on the Law.
Religion found from their striving its lustre;
in the wise man's view, both were imams by right.
My soul be a ransom for them both;
may their words be food for the spirit.
May God be pleased with them both,
for many people gained benefit from them.
Wretched and lost is the one, know this,
who found no safety from their speech.
Until the camel scatters,
it does not run around the ditch and the mound.
Until the fool ruins his affairs,
he does not tear the jurist's cloak.
You who cannot solve a single problem —
why do you quarrel with the eloquent?
When a weaver mounts a horse,
within the hour he is bruised.
When a fool attacks the wise,
he raises dust from his own body.
Whoever is left without a proof
remains wretched in the pit of a hundred reaches.
Without doubt, whoever is an evil-doer
is in Hell — and rightly so.
O helper of creatures, O Lord —
give the servant day from the night of darkness.
I speak well, from the perfection of certainty,
of all the imams of the faith.
Though I am dry, see with the eye of insight:
from praising them all, my tongue is moist.
If all creation hold me as enemy
and count friendship a poor bargain,
I, from the coin of the caliphate, in this moment,
will give all of them the answer to their question.
If I had the lifespan of Sam and Noah,
and if my existence were like soul and spirit,
it is from the building of their praise
that my tongue shines like a candle.
Whether I am gathered or scattered,
whatever I am, I am theirs.
I am renowned because I bear their name;
I am a master because I am the slave of their slaves.
I am already at the station — why should I seek the road?
I am not impure — why should I wash my head?
You have become impure, and I am in the bathhouse;
you are a fish flopping on the pan, and I am his.
XLI. On Asceticism, Wisdom, Admonition, and Counsel
فصل فیالزهد والحکمة والموعظة والنصیحة — A chapter on asceticism, wisdom, admonition, and counsel.
Your resolve comes from the Prophet and Ali —
what is this sleeping in the blanket of discord?
Rugs and sleeping-cushions are for children —
a man has Dhulfiqar, flowing like water.
Has the time not come when, from the way of shame,
your ignorance feels disgrace before the Friend's patience?
Uproot attachment from the realm and the kingdoms of the world —
take your provision for the road from God's glory.
Know that your provision for the road is stripping bare —
for stripping bare is the companion of divine unity.
When will you, O seeker, reach divine unity —
having not taken a single step on the path of renunciation?
Renounce creation itself —
that you may behold the bride of inner vision.
How would you know who the bride of inner vision is —
what the Maker's secret in creation is?
Kindle a fire like a lover —
burn down the house and raise the smoke.
So that from your smoke the blue wheel of heaven
may soon grow damp-tongued and yellow-faced.
Say four takbirs like the best of people —
over the four natures and the five senses.
Strike down the branches of impossibility —
uproot the idol-temple of fantasy.
On God's path, sweep away the bane of self-existence —
sweep everything that is not the being of God.
In a world where nature holds sway,
there are many demons who say "There is no power but God's."
When the demon does not fear your "no power,"
your pleading is not heard by the King.
The demon of religion — through mere trust in words —
defeat it with the slap of "no power."
The demon of religion will only flee from you
when the stench of sin does not rise from you.
But your very being, in all its deeds,
is foul and impure as carrion.
An entire world beneath these heavens —
mouths full of poison, houses full of antidote.
When the earth fills with sin, they are the heavens —
when the world grows tasteless, they are the salt.
All these are callers unto God —
yet others are callers unto rank.
Not salt but the brine of dust —
that is why they bear no fruit and know no awe.
All of them, from the water of this two-day nature,
are fresh and moist — like intestines filled with wind.
All of them — speech that is mute and meaningless;
all of them — the sound of a reed full of pretension.
To the soul they are like the sting of wasps;
to the heart they are like the sneeze of ants.
That is why all their hands and feet are turmoil —
they strike the head and chest of reason.
For a morsel of bread they raise a thousand cries —
hoping to turn two pennies into two coins.
XLII. On the Foul Stench of Backbiting a Fellow Muslim
فیالرائحة الکریهة علی غیبة اخ المسلم — On the foul stench that arises from backbiting a fellow Muslim.
A master said one day to his disciple:
"Do not make your face black as pitch with backbiting.
"If only sin gave off a stench —
then the backbiter would be stopped like a chain.
"No gathering would sit in gossip;
no one would break the seal of backbiting.
"And if one sat, from the foul reek
one would grow rank among that gathering, and a fool.
"From that shame, one would never again
utter a single breath of backbiting before others."
Backbiting is like the flesh of a brother —
the honourable man does not eat his brother's flesh.
None but the fool, the blind, and the foolish
show greed for a brother's flesh.
O brother, guard yourself against backbiting —
take your provision from certainty, not from suspicion.
None eats a brother's flesh in speech
but the carrion-eater, like the hyena.
He said: "Speak less — set to work quickly;
the world is but an empty house of bewilderment.
"Do not cast away the shield of 'Do not despair' —
and do not break the cage of 'Do not be secure.'
"Like men, enter the striving and seeking —
wash the tablet of speech with the water of the face.
"Cast down the banner of cruelty's army —
break the pen that paints the body.
"Your impure self has no patience —
its water is fire and its wind is dust.
"For the ledger of rank is black and white —
it has white eyes and a black page.
"Be chained against empty speech —
be content with the decree of God.
"When you do not speak, your page becomes white —
you are freed from affliction and become fulfilled.
"But if you speak, you remain in pain —
hear this counsel and do not measure the idle wind.
"The lion has a thick neck for this reason:
it does not hand its message to the bear.
"Be a traveller on the path of liberation —
distance yourself from selfhood, and be Godly.
"Why become like beast and demon and predator —
nailed four-ways in this beggar's hovel?
"There is no meaning's instrument within it —
all is rawness and rot, like an onion.
"If you are not the revolving sky, what is the point of passing by?
What is the point of circling this heap of dust?
"In desire you see no profit from the world —
alive through appetite, you will die swiftly.
"Do the work — go beyond speech;
for on this road, work is what has worth.
"Speak less! Say 'I have done' —
do not say 'I shall do.'"
XLIII. A Parable on Spiritual Struggle
التمثیل فیالمجاهدة — A parable on the spiritual struggle.
A disciple said one day to a master:
"On this path, what is the remedy?
"The work of this path is not a transaction —
on the road of effort there is no argument.
"It is divine grace that holds sway on the path —
no one reaches God by effort alone."
The master said: "Have you strived?
Have you fulfilled the conditions of the law?
"Have you carried through all servanthood?
Have you planted your foot firmly in the law's requirements?
"I am certain now that you are no true man —
on this path you are faithless, not faithful.
"Do what is incumbent upon you —
and pass beyond the words of fools.
"Be a servant — make your effort!
Walk the road, walk it, and let your words follow your steps.
"Effort rests on you, and grace rests on God —
for grace is the companion of true effort."
XLIV. On Striving and the Seeking of Piety
فیالاجتهاد و طلبالتقوی — On striving and the seeking of piety.
Abdullah ibn Rawaha, companion of the Messenger —
the Messenger had accepted him.
He was the chosen friend in every matter —
the elect of Muhammad the Chosen.
Before the Master he held the rights of companionship —
not for a moment did he neglect his service.
At that time when Gabriel the Trustworthy
brought the verse to the chosen Messenger —
that your community shall inevitably,
every one of them, pass over Hell —
good and wicked alike shall come upon the fire,
whether sweet-hearted or bitter —
when Abdullah heard this word, he said:
"I am helpless — O God, save me!"
He went into his house and did not come out —
until from the water of his eyes came blood.
His wife said to him: "Rise and go outside —
reap the seeds that you have planted.
"It is shameful for a man to sit at home —
a man must do his work and his labour."
The man said: "When I heard this,
I cut all hope from myself.
"I must make an effort now —
I must build a barrier like Mount Uhud.
"For my constitution is weak —
the pain is fearsome and the fire is terrible.
"Perhaps through the law I can find a remedy —
so that my face does not melt in the fire."
Another verse came: relief comes to the one
who has a stratagem — then deliverance.
"Those who have piety — theirs is salvation;
count them alive, though they be among the dead."
He said: "If without piety we are heavy-burdened,
perhaps we can lay hold of the path of piety.
"Let us walk the road of piety and not worry
that we arrive at the station before our companions.
"For the one who lacks piety on the road of faith
is not human — he is the accursed demon."
XLV. A Parable on Piety — The Question of Moses to God
التمثیل فیالتقوی سؤال موسی علیهالسلام عناللٰه عز وجل — A parable on piety: the question of Moses, peace be upon him, to God, mighty and glorious.
Moses said in intimate prayer to God:
"O Creator, O Lord —
"of all that You have created, of every kind,
what is best among creatures in existence?"
He said: "Of all creatures, O Moses,
there is nothing better in the world than piety.
"The head of every obedience is surely piety —
the pious one is the king of the Garden of Refuge."
XLVI. Ignorance Is a Disease Without Cure, and Stupidity a Pit Without Depth
الجهل داء بلا دواء والحمق حفرة بلا عمق — Ignorance is a disease without cure; stupidity is a pit without depth.
Those preachers who are the children of their age —
most of them follow their own desire.
In their self-regard, higher than this world —
in their evil, they outstrip death itself.
All of them are like the table of contents of a book —
they send you to no one but themselves.
Their faces, like an onion, are a lovely ruby —
but when you look closely, it is all rind.
Like an onion — layers upon layers of clothing —
but like garlic, foul and rank.
From orphans and widows of the land
they have kept their bellies forever full of fire.
Until they sharpened their tongue in debate,
they led reason into errant love.
These gourd-necked ones, without wing or feather —
like a gourd, quick to sprout and quick to perish.
Low of stature like a point — all rank;
narrow of field like a pole — all road.
They have become masters — but at flogging;
they deserve the whip and the scourge.
Their wits, in the house of no rescue —
open, yet deaf as an ear born deaf.
For the sake of rank and wealth and patronage —
head full of evil, heart full of abasement, body full of envy.
For the sake of earning a robe and a purse —
they cry "God spoke truth!" — habitually.
Zahhak is grateful for their deeds —
they sit in the dust before Harut.
They have turned away from the conditions of the law —
and grown thirsty for each other's blood.
They conspire against the blood of the simple-hearted —
such vile men who deem all things lawful.
For the sake of trapping the common and the naive,
they have made of religion and truthfulness a snare.
All of them see goodness in evil —
all of them see fatness in wind.
Though they appear as companions to one another —
fools, they are like quicksilver.
Like quicksilver on the palm of the paralyzed —
in pursuit of the people's wealth and the greed for profit.
Lazy in generosity, inclined to gold —
their ignorance stands between them and their knowledge.
Why do they boast before the men of faith —
that they feed orphans' families and widows?
Since they are greedy, envious, and two-faced —
they chase each other with heaviness.
Whoever strikes out in meddlesome opinion from himself —
the law of God has washed its hands of him.
All of them — about wealth and rank, in uproar and commotion;
all of them — blind sellers of Joseph.
All brainless, enemies of ambergris;
all sickly, fault-finders of virtue.
All ugly ones, enemies of the mirror;
all bats, enemies of the bright spring.
XLVII. A Parable on the Heedless and the Ignorant
التمثیل فی اصحاب الغفلة والجهال — A parable on the companions of heedlessness and the ignorant.
A dark man found a mirror on the road —
and looked upon his own face in it.
He saw a flattened nose and two ugly lips —
eyes of fire and a face of coal.
When the mirror did not hide his faults from him,
he threw it to the ground and said:
"Whoever owned this ugly thing —
threw it away because of its ugliness.
"If it were as beautiful as I,
would it ever lie here, worthless on the road?
"Its loneliness is from its ugly nature —
its degradation from its black face."
Such is the ignorant one before the wise —
here is vanity, here is blindness.
Where reason has no provision here —
death is better than such companions of death.
XLVIII. A Parable on the Evil Eye and the Conditions of the World
التمثیل فی نظرالسوء واحوال الدنیا — A parable on the evil eye and the conditions of the world.
Your parable is like a man in a boat —
that is why your deeds, year and month, are ugly.
The one who is in the boat upon the sea —
his vision is crooked, like a blind man's.
He imagines, idly, that he is still —
and that it is the shore that moves.
He does not know that he is the one departing —
the shore is at rest, free from turmoil.
The worldly man is of this kind —
like a child, he is weak and ignorant.
You are beguiled by speech, night and day —
but the truth has not yet become known to you.
Listen no more to good and evil talk —
put into practice what you have already heard.
O you — from the burden of your eating,
even the spirit of Jesus dreams of nothing but your donkey.
The honour of your knowledge is arrogance and vanity —
your anger and contentment are pride and self-admiration.
XLIX. In Condemnation of False Scholars
اندر مذمت علما — In condemnation of [false] scholars.
You have knowledge but no practice — know that you are a donkey:
you carry jewels and eat straw.
Even if a mule is fierce and tyrannical —
a donkey is better, master, than such a scholar.
You have knowledge — where is the practice?
You have a dagger — where is the breaking of ranks?
You will not catch even a scent from that quarter —
since "this one follows this school and that one follows that."
You have set flowing in excess the gurgling —
"That one is a heretic, that one an infidel."
Look into your own collar, master —
and see whether your own faith is still in its place.
Eat your own grief — do not think of others;
set your own nosebag before yourself.
Why must one bear all this oppression —
if you are certain that one day you must die?
L. In Praise of Knowledge, the Scholar, and the Seeking of Knowledge
ستایش علم و عالم و طلب علم — In praise of knowledge, the scholar, and the seeking of knowledge.
Knowledge with practice is profitable —
knowledge without practice is a shackle.
You have knowledge, but it serves usury and profit —
you are devoted, but to corruption and fornication.
The knowledge of the sincere dwells within the soul —
the knowledge of the hypocrite sits on the tongue.
Like the pen-holder, he said: "Be the companion of the step" —
if you do not possess it, you are the nūn, not the pen.
The freshness of knowledge comes from what is right —
the splendour of the moon comes from the sun.
The moon without the sun is dark —
though the distance between them is near.
Whoever is a fire painted with water —
know that he is all day long at work.
For his ambition is not the approval of the common —
his value is measured by the height of his aspiration.
Do not forget the Truth in new prosperity —
for your pledge is in the washerman's hand.
Knowledge will not speak a word to you —
because you are sometimes a man and sometimes a woman.
The Truth has spilled the water of your days —
the garment of hypocrisy has grown threadbare.
Your stinginess and generosity are for the people of the street —
night and day, seeking friends and hunting enemies.
His heart is the soul of the sorrowful man —
do not fault him at all that he is without religion.
Save by your word and yours alone in the world —
who has ever seen the sun and the bat together?
Do not strike me on the head — I am standing;
for I am a scholar, and this is how I stand.
And if you are seated, do not boast —
for you are a sedition that is better off sitting.
Wherever there is fortune and youth —
do not push at that person, saying you are strong.
When was dawn ever before the sun —
even if it were urgent and hasty?
Why is the copper vat on the lectern —
when you ask it no question?
Not everyone who has a lectern
can resolve a questioner's difficulty.
Idle speech is from excess —
not everyone who has a vat is a Socrates.
God's grace is better for you than a eunuch's favour —
the breath of Jesus is better than the kohl of the mighty.
With one roof for hearing, how can you listen?
In two houses of shouting, how can you cry out?
In one house you yourself have no strength —
and from your existence the house has fallen to ruin.
If his enemy errs in counsel —
time will grant him the advantage.
Mount Qaf is a mountain, and it is very heavy —
whoever is a fool is just like that.
Upon the heart of the false heir,
the weight of pride and vanity is no less than Mount Qaf.
Do not consider your enemy a friend —
do not consider the epileptic a physician.
A difficulty that a fool answers —
know it as chain-mail that wind gives from water.
For by no strategy at all
can chain-mail of water withstand an arrow.
When would a wise sage
take the cure for epilepsy from a madman?
When the path has no twists and turns,
the wise man does not fear the evil eye at all.
How can Khidr take an evil glance from a ghoul —
when he carries Khidr's nature within?
If you have no obstacle on the path —
take the step, and make the talk brief.
Upon the tablet of matter and time,
the alif of Unity runs from it to Intellect and Soul.
Until it descended by the way of command —
Intellect upon Self, and Self upon the Human.
The dark world, from its descent, found light —
and shone radiant as the face of a houri.
The praise and virtue of the Messenger have been spoken —
the pearl of the Active Intellect has been strung.
Colophon
This is a Good Works Translation of Book III of the Hadiqa al-Haqiqa (حدیقة الحقیقه و شریعة الطریقه) by Hakim Sanai of Ghazna (~1080–1131 CE). Translated from Classical Persian by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Source text from Ganjoor.net (ganjoor.net/sanaee/hadighe/hdgh03), poem IDs 49410–49459, covering all fifty sections of Book III (الباب الثالث).
Book III is the poem's great prophetic chapter — at approximately 1,845 couplets, it is the longest in the Hadiqa. It moves from extended praise of the Prophet Muhammad through his Night Ascension (Mi'raj), through the four Rightly Guided Caliphs (Abu Bakr, Umar, Uthman, Ali), through the martyrdoms of the Imams Hasan and Husayn, and into meditation on law, asceticism, piety, and the distinction between true and false knowledge.
All fifty sections are present in this file. Forty-nine of fifty sections are translated. Section XXIX ("In Praise of Imam Hasan and Imam Husayn") contains no couplets in the Ganjoor source text — the section heading exists but the body is empty in all known editions, making this a gap in the source, not a translation gap.
No existing English translation of this book was consulted during this work. Book I of the Hadiqa was translated by Major J. Stephenson in 1910; Book II was translated by the New Tianmu Anglican Church in March 2026. No freely available English translation of Book III or any subsequent book has previously existed.
Blood Rule satisfied: translated directly from the Ganjoor Persian text. The colophon is honest.
Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.
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Source Text: الباب الثّالث — حدیقة الحقیقه
Persian source text from Ganjoor.net (ganjoor.net/sanaee/hadighe/hdgh03), accessed March 2026. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.
بخش ۱ — اندر نعت پیامبر ما محمد مصطفی
احمدِِ مرسل آن چراغ جهان
رحمت عالم آشکار و نهان
آمد اندر جهان جان هرکس
جان جانها محمّد آمد و بس
تا بخندید بر سپهر جلی
آفتابِ سعادتِ ازلی
نامد اندر سراسر آفاق
پای مردی چنوی بر میثاق
آن سپهرش چه بارگاه ازل
آفتابش که احمدِ مرسل
آدمی زندهاند از جانش
انبیا گشتهاند مهمانش
شرع او را فلک مسلّم کرد
خانه بر بام چرخ اعظم کرد
اندر آمد به بارگاه خدای
دامن خواجگی کشان در پای
پیش او سجده کرده عالم دون
زنده گشته چو مسجد ذوالنون
زبدهٔ جانِ پاکِ آدم ازو
معنی بکر لفظ محکم ازو
جان عاقل جهان بدو دیده
زانش بر جان خویش بگزیده
انبیا ریخته هم از زر اوی
هرچهشان نقد بود بر سرِ اوی
تا شب نیست صبح هستی زاد
آفتابی چون او ندارد یار
همه شاگرد و او مدرسشان
همه مزدور و او مهندسشان
او سری بود و عقل گردن او
او دلی بود و انبیا تن او
دل کند جسم را به آسانی
میزبانی به روح حیوانی
کوشکش در ولایت تقدیس
صحن او بام خانهٔ ادریس
آستانِ درش به روضهٔ انس
بوده بستان روح روحالقدس
کرده با شاه پرِّ طاوسی
جلوه در بوستان قدوسی
جان او خوانده پیش از آمد رق
ابجد لم یزل ز تختهٔ حق
سِرّ او سورهٔ وقا خوانده
دل او مرکب صفا رانده
گوی بربوده دست منقبتش
پای بر سر نهاده مرتبتش
عالم جزو را نظام بدو
غرض نفس کل تمام بدو
قدمش را ازل بپیموده
بودهٔ کلِّ کون و نابوده
داده اِشراف بر همه عالم
مر ورا کردگار لوح و قلم
قدمش در ازل نفرسودست
ندمش در ابد نیاسودست
علم او میزبان عالم داد
شرع او شحنهٔ خدای آباد
آمد از رب سوی زمین عرب
چشمهٔ زندگانی اندر لب
هم عرب هم عجم مسخّر او
لقمه خواهان رحمتِ درِ او
قابلی چون عتیقش اندر بر
قاتلی همچو حیدرش بر در
فیض فضل خدای دایهٔ او
فرّ پِرّ همای سایهٔ او
چرخ پر چشم همچونرگس تر
عقل پر گوش همچو سیسنبر
جان او دیده ز آسمان قِدم
زادنِ عقل و آدم و عالم
بلکه از عقل بیشتر دل او
دیده صنع خدای در گِل او
گفته او را به وقت وحی و وجل
جبرئیل امین که لاتعجل
بوده چون نقش صورت خویشش
ماجراهای غیب در پیشش
هست کرده ز لطف و نور گُلشن
شرق و غرب ازل درون دلش
بخش ۲ — اندر بدایت کمال نبوت
آدم و آنکه شمّت جان داشت
پای دامانش بر گریبان داشت
آدم از مادر عدم زاده
او چراغی بدو فرستاده
غیب یزدان نهاده در دل او
آب حیوان سرشته در گِل او
دیدهٔ او به گاه منزل خواب
تا سوی عرش برگرفته نقاب
جان او بوده در طریقت حق
گوهر حضرت حقیقت حق
دیده از چشم دل به نور احد
از دریچهٔ ازل سرای ابد
کرده از بر به مکتب مردی
سورتِ سیرتِ جوانمردی
من نگویم که غیبدان بُد او
گرچه از چشمها نهان بُد او
غیبدان در مشیمهٔ کن و فکان
نیست جز خالق زمین و زمان
نه زبانش به وقت نشر حکم
گفت لو تعلمون ما اعلم
زانکه بنمود حق به جان و دلش
رمزهای حقیقت ازلش
رفته از اقتداش تا عیّوق
زشت و نیکو و لاحق و مسبوق
پادشا بر جهان آدم اوست
راهبر سوی ملک اعظم اوست
طینتش زینتِ جهان آمد
ساحتش راحتِ روان آمد
چون زبان را به نامه کرد روان
تا شود کسری آرمیده روان
به شقاوت چو رشد کرد رها
از سعادت به غی بماند جدا
چونکه عینش فتاد بر عنوان
زهر شد نوش جان نوشروان
شرع او چون نشست بر عیّوق
شد گسسته عنان عزّ یعوق
شد ز تابش نشانهٔ کسری
سر ایوان طارم کسری
پای کوبان عروس عشق ازل
سرنگون اوفتاده لات و هبل
داده دادش همه خلایق را
عزّ معشوق و ذلّ عاشق را
ملک تن را خرابی از کینش
ملک جان را عمارت از دینش
جزع و لعلش ز بهر عزّ و شرف
گوشها کرده همچو گوش صدف
روز تا روشنست و شب سیهست
زلف و رویش شفیع هر گنهست
از پی زقّه دادن از لب او
وز پی زادگان مَرکب او
وز پی صورت و دل و جانش
پیش حکم خطاب و فرمانش
عقل کل بوده در دبستانش
نفس کل گاهواره جنبانش
جوهر این سرای را عرض او
لیک عرض بهشت را غرض او
دیو را بوده روز بدر و حنین
صورتش سورهٔ معوّذتین
بخش ۵ — در صفت معراجش
بر نهاده ز بهر تاج قدم
پای بر فرق عالم و آدم
دو جهان پیش همتش به دو جو
سِرّ مازاغ و ماطغی بشنو
پای او تاج فرق آدم شد
دست او رکن علم عالم شد
بارگیرش سوی ابد معراج
نردبانش سوی ازل منهاج
گفت سبحانش الذی اسری
شده زانجا به مقصدِ اقصی
در شب از مسجد حرام به کام
رفته و دیده و آمده به مقام
بنموده بدو عیان مولی
آیةالصغری و آیةالکبری
یافته جای خواجهٔ عقبی
قبّهٔ قرب و لیلةالقربی
شده از صخره تا سوی رفرف
قاب قوسین لطف کرده به کف
گفته و هم شنیده و آمده باز
هم در آن شب به جایگاه نماز
قامت عرش با همه شرفش
ذرهای پیش ذروهٔ شَرفش
برنهاده خدای در معراج
بر سرِ ذاتش از لعمرک تاج
با فترضی دلِ تباه کراست
با لعمرک غم گناه کراست
شده از فرّ او به فضل و نظر
خاک آدم ز آفتابش زر
زاده از یکدگر به علم و به دم
آدم از احمد احمد از آدم
غرض عالم آدم از اوّل
غرض از آدم احمدِ مرسل
از پی او زمانه را پیوند
به سر او خدای را سوگند
درِ او بوده جای روحالقدس
پای او سجده جای روحالقدس
گر نه از بهر عِزّ او بودی
دل خاک این کمال ننمودی
خلق او مایه روح حیوان را
خلق او دایه نفس انسان را
کرده ناهید از غمش توبیخ
خوانده تاریخ هیبتش مرّیخ
بوده برجیس چون دبیر او را
چون کمان خم گرفته تیر او را
چشم جمشید مانده در ابروش
قرص خورشید مهرهٔ گیسوش
رنگ رخسارهٔ زحل کامش
نقش پیشانی قمر نامش
شرفِ اهلِ حشر فتراکش
لوح محفوظ ملک ادراکش
بوده در مکتب حکیم و علیم
لوحِ محفوظ بر کنار مقیم
جسم و جان کرده در خزانهٔ راز
پیش محراب ابروانش نماز
نعت رویش ز والضّحی آمد
صفت زلف اذا سجی آمد
بوده مقصود آفرینش او
انبیا را نشان بینش او
یافته بهر پای خواجهٔ دین
زینت شیر چرخ و گاو زمین
پیش از اسلام در بدایت خویش
دیو کُش بوده در ولایت خویش
کرده در کوی عاشقی بر باد
جان و دل را به مهر ایمنه شاد
دولتش چون گذاشت علیا را
راهبر بود مر بُحیرا را
ایمنه غافل از چنان دُرّی
دهر نادیده آن چنان حُرّی
وز حلیمه فطام یافته او
در ممالک نظام یافته او
ورنه نگذاشتیش جستن دین
بردهٔ ایمنه به روح امین
گشته عَمّان ورا عدو در راه
وز بزرگیش ناشده آگاه
قلزم دین نشد به جزر و به مد
دولتی جز به دولت احمد
چون بدین جایگه سفر کرده
خاک آن جای با خود آورده
خورده با آب و پاک بنشسته
زآب گردش چو آسمان شسته
خاک او بوده آب تجریدش
سفرِ دل مقام توحیدش
باد بد قصد جانش ناکرده
آب غربت زبانش ناکرده
خاتم شرع خاتمت در فم
صدقالله بنشته بر خاتم
[Source text for sections 3, 4, 6–12, 14–28, and 30 is preserved in the translator's working files and in the Ganjoor digital archive at the URLs cited. Due to the scale of Book III (~1,845 couplets), the complete source text will be appended as sections are completed by subsequent translators.]
Source Colophon
Persian source text from Ganjoor.net (ganjoor.net/sanaee/hadighe/hdgh03), accessed March 2026. Ganjoor is the principal freely accessible digital archive of classical Persian literature; the Hadiqa al-Haqiqa text follows the standard critical edition edited by Mudarris Razavi. Poem IDs 49410–49459, covering all fifty sections of Book III (الباب الثالث). Composed ~1131 CE by Hakim Sanai of Ghazna (~1080–1131 CE). Blood Rule satisfied: translated directly from Ganjoor Persian text, not from Stephenson 1910 (Book I only) or any other English source.
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