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Here’s one of the best-known texts in Persian literature. It is the first chapter of the Mathnawi, the great work by Jalâl ed-Din Muḥammad Balkhi, known as Rûmî. Born in Balkh in Khorasan (present-day Afghanistan) in 1207 and died in Konya (present-day Turkey) in 1273. In 1219, faced with the arrival of the Mongols, his family fled and settled in Konya in the Sultanate of Rûm. This is how he came to be known as Rûmi, as the region was formerly part of the Roman-Byzantine Empire. He is also commonly called Mawlana, our master, as he is revered as such in many sûfi brotherhoods. These verses by Rûmî have been sung and interpreted by a number of artists, some of whom can be heard or heard on video in the following article: Rûmî : Ecoute le ney Bishnow az ney
Mathnawi, verses 1-35
بشنو از نی، چون حكایت میكند واز جدائی ها شكایت میكند
Hear the ney (the reed flute) tell a story he laments the parting
The earliest manuscripts, from the 13th century, have a variant for this verse:
بشنو این نی چون شكایت میكند از جدائییها حكایت میكند
Hear this ney how he laments separations he tells the story
The theme of separation is one of the most recurrent in Arabic (firâq), Persian (jodâ) and Indian (virah) poetry. The separation of lovers also tells of the separation between the soul and its origin, man and God
کز نیستان تا مرا ببریده اند از نفیرم مرد و زن نالیده اند
“Since I was cut from the reedbed, my complaint makes man and woman groan.
The reed has been cut from its reedbed, from its original environment, it has been hollowed out and transformed into a flute, but it is precisely where it has been cut that sound is produced, and this sound will only be able to express a lament. This lament is also that of the human soul, which longs to find its origin
سینه خواهم شرحه شرحه از فراق تا بگویم شرح درد اشتیاق
I want a breast split by separation to explain the pain of lack
Here it is the Arabic word firāq that is used to say separation and also another Arabic word, present in many poems and songs, the word ishtiāq which expresses lack due to absence. Another key word in this verse is the word sharḥ whose Arabic verbal root means to open, dilate, split, cut, but also commonly comment and the noun commentary, scholarly explanation, which comes from having cut up a text, to make a word-by-word commentary. Now, in this same verse this verbal root is used in two different senses: first appears the expression sharḥeh sharḥeh which means cut into pieces, made into pieces, and then the making of a commentary tā beguyam sharḥ which literally means so that I say a commentary. Here’s the image: the chest, the belly of the ney reed has been hollowed out in order to make a flute, this emptiness makes it feel lack, it has been opened, cut to pieces, made into pieces and now it feels lack. So all this happened so that he could explain the pain of lack, give commentary on it, make it understood by the men and women of this world
هر كسی كاو دور ماند از اصل ِ خویش باز جوید روزگار وصل ِ خویش
Whoever remains far from his origin again he seeks the moment of his union
A subtle assonance between ‘asl the origin and wasl the union. Far from ‘asl the reed seeks wasl. Wasl is one of the words indicating the union of the two lovers, the mystical union of the soul with God
من به هر جمعیتی نالان شدم جفت بَد حالان و خوش حالان شدم
I have been a lament in every assembly associated with those whose state of mind is unhappy and those whose it is happy
The mystic’s path is made up of stages (maqamāt) and states (ḥālān). The state (ḥāl) is the particular condition in which the one experiencing separation or union finds himself. Here there is a double meaning: the flute was the companion that accompanied both the bad ḥālān, those in a bad state, sad, suffering, and those who are khūsh ḥālān, in a good being, joyful, happy. But this can still be interpreted in two ways: either the one whose state is bad is the one who is ignorant of his origin and has therefore not yet undertaken the path or the one whose state is suffering because he is experiencing separation. The good state would therefore be that of the person who is searching, or the one who is good because he experiences union. The flute accompanies all kinds of gathering, but its secret chord expresses its pain. Indeed, according to the experience of mystics, when they experience union with the beloved, being totally transported into him, they no longer express their individuality, they no longer play the flute, union is a secret state
هر كسی از ظنّ خود، شد یار من از درون من نَجَست اسرار من
Each from his arbitrary judgment has been my companion from my inside he has not sought my secrets
The word ṭhann indicates one’s opinion of something, a thought that may be unfounded or even malicious, false, in general. Here, the flute invites us to search for meaning from within. It has been hollowed out, and it’s from this lack that we must search, find its origin, its secret. All men have a body, but it’s where the breath resonates, where we inhale and breathe, that we can find what doesn’t appear. Here the flute says: it’s from inside me. You didn’t look for my secrets from inside me
سِرّ من از نالۀ من دور نیست لیك چشم و گوش را آن نور نیست
My secret is not far from my lament but this light is not for the eye or ear
The word sirr is important; it is the secret, the secret of the experience of union with the beloved. The pain of separation is already a light, a sign of this union. The flute seeks that from which it has been separated
تن ز جان و، جان ز تن مستور نیست لیك كس را دیدِ جان دستور نیست
There is no veil that separates the body from the soul, nor the soul from the body, but it is not in the order of things for anyone to see the soul
آتش است این بانگِ نای و، نیست، باد هر كه این آتش ندارد، نیست باد
This cry of the nāy is fire, it’s not air the one who doesn’t have this fire let it be no more
To feel the pain of separation and therefore to cry out is a sign of life, it’s the fire of divine love that animates this vital breath, it’s not just air. What can we wish for someone who doesn’t feel this pain, for someone who isn’t animated by this fire? That he may no longer be a prisoner of himself, that he may seek union with his origin so that he may forget himself. This is the great theme of the disappearance of the self that all mystics speak of. He who strives for union with the other forgets himself, the self disappears and he contemplates only the beloved. This is called fanā
آتش ِعشق است كاندر نی فتاد جوشش عشق است كاندر می فتاد
It is the fire of love that lies within the nāy it is the bubbling of love that lies within the wine
It is the spirit that produces the fermentation of wine, the juice that becomes alcoholic is an image of the spirit that is added to it, it’s as if life were infused into what is lifeless, alcoholic beverages are in fact called, even in French, “spiritueux”. Thus, love is a force that sets in motion, that infuses life, that boils the life of espr, that vivifies it
نی حریف هر كه از یاری بُرید پرده هایش های ما درید
The reed flute is the loved one who shares (the sorrow) of one who has been cut off far from his friend its notes in harmony tear our sails
Once again the theme of the ubiquitous friend in Persian poetry. This friend is the beloved who teaches us everything. In vain, we ask ourselves whether this friend is divine or human, for it is only through the human experience of gratuitous love for the beloved of this world that we gain knowledge of the divine love that inhabits us and calls us. It is through the experience of human love that the veil is torn on the invisible spirit of love that inhabits and vivifies us. When we experience the pain of separation from a friend, a beloved, the earthly reality of the spirit appears to us, we recognize it and seek union. In this verse, we have a clever play on the word veil, pardeh, which in the plural also means the musical scale, played by the flute. Every human being, animated by the divine breath, is a flute, the one that resonates with the notes of our friend, making us vibrate, animating us and tearing the veil on the reality of the spirit, which, while hidden and invisible, is our true breath, the source of life.
همچو نی زهری و تریاقی كه دید همچو نی دمساز و مشتاقی كه دید
Who has seen united poison and antidote as in the flute? Who has seen him who shares sorrow and yearns for the beloved united as in the flute?
In love poems, love and the beloved are often opposed. One longs for the other and suffers separation, while the other, the beloved, is the one who withdraws, moves away and causes the lover suffering. He is often accused of coldness and indifference to the pains of love. Here, on the other hand, the poet asserts that the two figures are here united in the image of the flute, which through its music makes the beloved himself live and resonate within it, animating it with his breath and inspiring the quest
نی حدیث راهِ پُر خون میكند قصه های عشق ِ مجنون میكند
The nāy recounts the bloody path of Majnûn’s love stories
Here, the evocation of the famous pair of lovers, Leyla and Majnun, who could not be reunited in the nuptials. But Majnun, the mad lover, declares that it is no longer he who lives, but Leyla who lives in him. He no longer misses her; he has longed for her so much that he has experienced the mystery of union with his beloved, despite her distance. In Persia, it was the Persian poet Nezami who took up the ancient theme of these lovers, who had been celebrated in Arabic poetry. Many other Persian mystics have also taken up this love story, which is omnipresent in Persian literature and has crossed all borders, penetrating India and beyond.
محرم این هوش، جز بی هوش نیست مر زبان را مشتری، جز گوش نیست
No one has access to this understanding except the one without intellect the only buyer for the tongue is the ear
Understanding this account of the sorrows of love is entrusted to the ear; we must abandon intellectual searching and surrender to the sound of the flute, which evokes and awakens to the perception of spiritual reality: it expresses the soul’s deepest aspiration, an aspiration that is often stifled by the activities and reasoning that occupy our intellect. Here, the conscious activity of the intellect is signified by the word hūsh, used twice: the first tells us that not everyone can access this understanding, only the mahram, the one who has access to the haram, to what is protected, is the one who can enter the harem; the second time is to tell us that we must lose self-consciousness, we must be “bī hush“, “without hūsh” to penetrate it. To be without hūsh in order to access the hūsh, to abandon our intellectual conception of love, in order to access the reality of love, to experience its desire and sorrow when it is the song of the beloved that provokes them. For this to happen, our ear must truly be able to listen to the words that come from the beloved’s mouth, his call and melody, and not what we intellectually imagine and foresee about him, without having met him, without his music having lulled us
در غم ما روزها بیگاه شد روزها با سوزها همراه شد
In our sorrow the days have become equal the days that burn have become our fellow traveler
To have lent an ear to the flute after abandoning the intellectual activity that occupies the mind, means accepting to be transported by the flute’s lament, to feel the desire of the beloved, to realize the distance that separates us from him. But we don’t care if the companion who makes the journey with us is the beloved himself, whose voice we hear guiding us to meet him. Here, the song of the nāy has become “hamrāh” the one who makes the road with us, we have welcomed his complaint and it accompanies us, but the complaint itself arises from the call of the beloved, it is his voice itself
روزها گر رفت، گو رو، باك نیست تو بمان، ای آنكه چون تو، پاك نیست
If the days have gone, say: go, no anxiety you stay, oh you that no one is as pure as you
No matter the days of pain if they are the sign of the beloved’s presence, the expression of my love for him
هر كه جز ماهی، ز آبش سیر شد هركه بی روزیست، روزش دیر شد
Only the fish is not satiated by the water he who is deprived of the necessities of life, his day is long
He who is in search of the beloved is like the fish who cannot drink the water that surrounds him, he knows he is surrounded by the beloved, without being able to reach him, he cannot satiate his thirst. The one who has nothing to live for on a daily basis is the one who doesn’t see the presence of the beloved that would satisfy his hunger and thirst, nothing among earthly goods can truly put an end to his hunger, it’s in vain that he searches for what can feed him
درنیابد حال پخته، هیچ خام پس سخن كوتاه باید، والسلام
He who is not mature cannot understand the state of he who is mature so, I must keep my speech brief and that’s all
بند بگسل، باش آزاد، ای پسر چند باشی بند سیم و بند زر
Loose your bonds, be free, O son how long will you be a slave to silver and gold?
In these verses is presented the path of the disciple who must begin by freeing himself from earthly possessions. It is the wise man who welcomes him and guides him on this path, calling him sonF
گر بریزی بحر را در كوزه ای چند ُگنجد؟ قسمت یك روزه ای
If you pour the sea into a jar how much can it hold? The portion given to you each day
Once again appears the notion of daily bread, what is necessary to sustenance each day. We can’t hoard goods, we have to trust that Providence will provide us with what we need each day. The necessities for each day are called in Arabic rizq and here, in Persian, rūzeh, which comes from the word rūz, thus what belongs to the day, to each day
كوزۀ چشم حریصان پُر نشد تا صدف قانع نشد، پُر دُرّ نشد
The jar for the eye of the greedy is never full The oyster is not satisfied until it is filled with a pearl
هر كه را جامه ز عشقی چاك شد او ز حرص و عیب كلـّی پاك شد
He whose garment is worn by love is purified of all greed and shame
شاد باش ای عشق ِ خوش سودای ما ای طبیب جمله علتهای ما
Happiness to you, O love, you who are a blessing to us O physician of all our diseases
ای دوای نخوت و ناموس ما ای تو افلاطون و جالینوس ما
O remedy of our pride and self-righteousness O, you who are our Plato and our Galena
جسم ِ خاك از عشق بر افلاك شد كوه در رقص آمد و چالاك شد
For love, the earthly body was in the heavens the mountain began to dance and became agile
The poem here refers to the ascension of Jesus and Mohammad fruit of the love that dwelt in them and also to the vision Moses had of God on Mount Sinai, when the mountain was shaken by God’s manifestation
عشق، جان طور آمد عاشقا طور مست و، خَرّ موسی صاعقا
Love gave life to Mount Sinai, O lovers! Sinai drunk and Moses fell struck by lightning
با لب دمساز خود گر جفتمی همچو نی من گفتنیها گفتمی
If I were myself in tune with a lip in unison with me like the reed I would say what needs to be said
هر كه او از همزبانی شد جدا بینوا شد، گر چه دارد صد نوا
Who has been separated from one who spoke the same language is unable to make his melody heard even if he had a hundred to make heard
چون كه ُگل رفت و گلستان در گذشت نشنوی زآن پس ز بلبل سر گذشت
When the rose is gone and the rose garden has outlived its time you no longer hear the nightingale’s story
Here the evocation of another widespread theme among mystical love poems: the story of the nightingale who sings of his love for the rose he cannot reach
جمله معشوق است و، عاشق پرده ای زنده معشوق است و، عاشق مُرده ای
The beloved is totality and the lover is a veil alive is the beloved, the lover is a dead man
There’s a veil between the lover and the beloved, even if the beloved is perceptible in the totality of what exists it’s the very person of the lover that prevents vision: we have to abandon ourselves, forget ourselves, in order to truly discover the other otherwise it will always be the image we forge ourselves that veils the perception of the beloved’s uniqueness
چون نباشد عشق را پروای او او چو مرغی ماند بی پر، وای، او
When love no longer pays attention to him he remains like a bird without wings, poor of him
من چگونه هوش دارم پیش و پس چون نباشد نور یارم پیش و پس
how would I be aware of what is before or after? When my friend’s light is not before or after
عشق خواهد كاین سخن بیرون بود آینه غمّاز نبود، چون بود ؟
love wants this word to be expressed the mirror no longer reports [what it sees], what is there
آینه ات دانی چرا غمّاز نیست زآنکه زنگار از رخش ممتاز نیست
Do you know why your mirror doesn’t pay off? Because the rust hasn’t been removed from its face
بشنوید ای دوستان این داستان خود حقیقت نقد حال ماست آن
O friends, listen to this story the very truth is that it is an analysis of our spiritual state