How Mu‘áwiya again exposed the deceitfulness of Iblís.
شاعر: رومی
وزن: فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلن (رمل مسدس محذوف یا وزن مثنوی)
صنف: مثنوی
The Amír said to him, “These things are true, but your share in these things is wanting.
You have waylaid hundreds of thousands like me: you have made a hole and have come into the treasure-house.
You are fire and naphtha: you burn, you cannot help it. Who is there whose raiment is not torn to pieces by your hand?
Inasmuch as it is your nature, O fire, to be a cause of burning, there is no help but you must burn something.
This is God's curse (on you), that He makes you burn (things) and makes you the master of all thieves.
You have spoken with God and heard (Him speak) face to face: what should I be (able to do) before your deceit, O enemy?
Your stock of knowledge is like the sound of (the fowler's) whistle: it is the cry of birds, but it is bird-ensnaring.
That (whistle) has waylaid myriads of birds, the bird (in each case) being duped (by the fancy) that a friend is come.
When it hears in the air the sound of the whistle, it comes (down) from the air and is made captive here.
Through your deceit the people of Noah are in lamentation: they have hearts charred and bosoms (torn) to shreds.
You gave ‘Ád in this world to the wind (of destruction): you cast (them) into torment and sorrows.
Through you was the stoning of the people of Lot: through you were they sunk in the black rain-water.
Through you was the brain of Nimrod crumbled, O you that have raised thousands of turmoils!
Through you the intelligence of Pharaoh, the acute and sage, became blinded, (so that) he found no understanding.
Through you also Bú Lahab became an unworthy one; through you also Bu ’l- Hakam became a Bú Jahl.
O you that on this chessboard, for the sake of remembrance*, have checkmated hundreds of thousands of masters,
O you by whose difficult attacking moves (our) hearts have been burned and your (own) heart has been blackened,
You are the sea of cunning, (and all) the creatures (are but) a drop: you are like a mountain and (we) simple ones (are but) a mote.
Who shall escape from your cunning, O adversary? We are drowned in the flood, except them that are protected (by God).
By you many a fortunate star has been burned: by you many an army and host have been scattered.”