The remainder of the Story of those who molested the young elephants.
شاعر: رومی
وزن: فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلن (رمل مسدس محذوف یا وزن مثنوی)
صنف: مثنوی
“The elephant takes a sniff at every mouth and keeps poking round the belly of every man,
To see where she will find the roasted flesh of her young, so that she may manifest her vengeance and strength.”
You eat the flesh of God's servants: you backbite them, you will suffer retribution.
Beware, for he that smells your mouths is the Creator: how shall any one save his life except him that is true (to God)?
Woe to the scoffer whose smell shall be tested in the grave by Munkar or Nakír!
There is no possibility of withdrawing the mouth from those mighty ones, nor of sweetening the mouth with medicinal ointments.
(In the grave) there is no water and oil to cover the face, there is no way of evasion (open) to intelligence and sagacity.
How many a time will the blows of their maces beat upon the head and rump of every vain gabbler!
Look at the effect of the mace of ‘Azrá’íl, (even) if you do not see the wood and iron in (their material) forms.
Sometimes too they appear in (material) form: the patient (himself) is aware thereof.
The patient says, “O my friends, what is this sword over my head?”
(They reply), “We do not see it; this must be fancy.” What fancy is this? (Nay), for it is (the hour of) departure (to the other world).
What fancy is this, from terror of which this inverted sphere (the sky) has now become (as insubstantial as) a phantom?
To the sick man the maces and swords became perceptible (visible), and his head dropped down.
He sees that that (vision) is for his sake: the eye of foe and friend (alike) is barred from it.
Worldly greed vanished, his eye became keen: his eye became illumined at the moment of bloodshed (death).
That eye of his, from the result of his pride and his anger, became (like) the cock that crows unseasonably.
It is necessary to cut off the head of the bird that rings the bell (crows) at the wrong time.
At every moment thy particular spirit is struggling with death: in thy spirit's death-struggle look to thy faith!
Thy life is like a purse of gold: day and night are like him who counts the gold coins (the money- changer).
He (Time) counts and gives the gold without stopping, until it (the purse) is emptied and there comes the eclipse (death).
If you take away from a mountain and do not put (anything) in the place (of what you have taken), the mountain will be demolished by that giving.
Therefore, for every breath (that you give out), put an equivalent in its place, so that by (acting in accordance with the text) and fall to worship and draw nigh you may gain your object.
Do not strive so much to complete (your worldly) affairs: do not strive in any affair that is not religious.
(Otherwise) at the end you will depart incomplete, your (spiritual) affairs marred and your bread unbaked.
And the beautifying of your grave and sepulchre is not (done) by means of stone and wood and plaster;
Nay, but by digging for yourself a grave in (spiritual) purity and burying (your) egoism in His egoism,
And by becoming His dust and buried in love of Him, so that your breath may gain replenishments from His breath.
A tomb with domes and turrets—that is not good (approved) on the part of the followers of Reality.
Look now at a living person attired in satin: does the satin help his understanding at all?
His soul is in hateful torment, the scorpion of grief is in his grief-laden heart.
Outside, on his exterior, broideries and decorations; but within he is sorely lamenting from (bitter) thoughts,
While you may see another in an old patched frock, his thoughts (sweet) as the sugar-cane and his words (like) sugar.