Story of the minstrel who began to sing this ode at the banquet of the Turkish Amír: “Art Thou a rose or a lily or a cypress or a man? I know not. What dost Thou desire from this bewildered one who has lost his heart? I know not”— and how the Turk shouted at him, “Tell of that which you know!”—and the minstrel's reply to the Amír.
شاعر: رومی
وزن: فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلن (رمل مسدس محذوف یا وزن مثنوی)
صنف: مثنوی
In the presence of the drunken Turk the minstrel began (to sing of) the mysteries of Alast under the veil of melody—
“I know not whether Thou art a moon or an idol, I know not what Thou desirest of me.
I know not what service I shall pay Thee, whether I shall keep silence or express Thee in words.
’Tis marvellous that Thou art not separate from me, (and yet) where am I, and where Thou, I know not.
I know not how Thou art drawing me: Thou drawest me now into Thy bosom, now into blood.”
In this fashion he opened his lips (only) to say “I know not”: he made a tune of “I know not, I know not.”
When (the refrain) “I know not” passed beyond bounds, our Turk was amazed and his heart became sick of this ditty.
The Turk leaped up and fetched an iron mace to smite the minstrel's head with it on the spot;
(But) an officer seized the mace with his hand, saying, “Nay; ’tis wicked to kill the minstrel at this moment.”
He (the Turk) replied, “This endless and countless repetition of his has pounded my nerves: I will pound his head.
O cuckold, (if) you don't know, don't talk nonsense; and if you do know, play (a tune) to the purpose.
Tell of that which you know, O crazy fool: don't draw out (repeat continually) ‘I know not, I know not.’
(Suppose) I ask, ‘Where do you come from, hypocrite, eh?’ you will say, ‘Not from Balkh, and not from Herát,
Not from Baghdád and not from Mosul and not from Tiráz’: you will draw out a long journey in (saying) ‘not’ and ‘not.’
Just say where you come from and escape (from further discussion): in this case it is folly to elaborate the point at issue.
Or (suppose) I asked, ‘What had you for breakfast?’ you would say, ‘Not wine and not roast-meat,
Not qadíd and not tharíd and not lentils’: tell me what you did eat, only (that) and no more.
Wherefore is this long palaver?” “Because,” said the minstrel, “my object is recondite.
Before (until) you deny (all else), affirmation (of God) evades (you): I denied (everything) in order that you might get a scent of (perceive the means of attaining to) affirmation.
I play the tune of negation: when you die, death will declare the mystery.
