for you 1

for you 1

Apr 24, 2012, 2:47 PM |

>>>>>>>>>>The Song of the Reed<<<<<<<<<<

1. From reed-flute hear what tale it tells; ***
What plaint it makes of absence' ills.

2. "From jungle-bed since me they tore, ***
Men's, women's, eyes have wept right sore.

3. My breast I tear and rend in twain, ***
To give, through sighs, vent to all my pain.

4. Who's from his home snatched far away, ***
Longs to return some future day.

5. I sob and sigh in each retreat, ***
Be't joy or grief for which men meet.

6. They fancy they can read my heart; ***
Grief's secrets I to none impart.

7. My throes and moans form but one chain, ***
Men's eyes and ears catch not their train.

8. Though soul and body be as one, ***
Sight of his soul hath no man won.

9. A flame's the flute's wail; not a breath, ***
that flame who feels not, doom him death.

10. The flame of love, 'tis, prompts the flute, ***
Wine's ferment, love; its tongue not mute.

11. The absent lover's flute's no joy. ***
Its trills proclaim his grief, his joy.

12. Or bane, or cure, the flute is still; ***
Content, complaining, as you will.

13. It tells its tale of burning grief; ***
Recounts how love is mad, in brief.

14. The lover lover's pangs best knows; ***
As ear receives tongue's plaint of woes.

15. Through grief, his day is but a dawn; ***
Each day of sorrow, torment's pawn.

16. My days are waste; take thou no heed. ***
thou still are left; my joy, indeed.

17. Whole seas a fish will never drown; ***
A poor man's day seems all one frown.

18. What boot from counsel to a fool? ***
Waste not thy words; thy wrath let cool.


19. Cast off lust's bonds; stand free from all. ***
Slave not for pelf; be not greed's thrall.

20. Pour rivers into one small gill, ***
It can but hold its little fill.

21. The eye's a vase that's ne'er content; ***
the oyster's filled ere pearl is sent.

22. The heart that's bleeding from love's dart, ***
From vice of greed is kept apart.

23. Then hie thee, love, a welcome guest; -- ***
Physician thou to soothe my breast.

24. Thou cure of pride and shame in me; ***
Old Galen's skill was nought to thee!

25. Through love, this earthly frame ascends ***
To heaven; a hill, to skip pretends.

26. In trance of love, Mount Sinai shakes, ***
At God's descent; 'and Moses quakes.'

27. Found I the friend on whom I dote, ***
I'd emulate flute's dulcet note.

28. But from my love, while torn away, ***
Unmeaning words alone I say.

29. The spring is o'er; the rose is gone; ***
the song of Philomel is done.

30. His love was all; himself, a note. ***
His love, alive; himself, dead mote.

31. Who feels not love's all-quick'ning flame, ***
Is like the bird whose wing is lame.

32. Can I be quiet, easy, glad, ***
When my delight's away? No! Sad.

33. Love bids my plaint all bonds to burst. ***
My heart would break, with silence curst.

34. A mirror best portrays when bright; ***
Begrimed with rust, its gleam grows slight.

A. Then wipe such foul alloy away; ***
Bright shall it, so, reflect each ray."

35. Thou'st heard what tale the flute can tell; ***
such is my case; sung all too well.

--Translated by James W. Redhouse. From "The Mesnevi of
Mevlânâ Jelâlu'd-dîn Muhammed er-Rûmî. Book the First"
( Rhymed Translation by Redhouse, london , 1881).






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