TEACHING AN ASS

    "IDIOT! DOLT! BLUNDER HEAD!"
shouted the owner of an ass as he kicked
it on its way. "What use are you to me? What
use are you to anyone? On your way, you have
lived your life in vain!" He kept up the tirade,
kicking and cudgelling the ass, which quietly
continued, as best it could, on the journey.

They passed a wise man. "What is the point of
this abuse?" he asked. "The beast cannot learn
much from you. It is not made that way. Stop
the noise, therefore, and you learn from the
beast instead."

"Learn from this creature?" spluttered the man.
"What can this brute possibly teach me?"

"For a start: patience and silence in the presence
of an ass."

                                                       SAA'DI

FOR A SINGLE TEAR

                              I
                Know of beauty
            That no one has ever
                        Known.

          How could that be possible
               When I may seem
             So new in infinite time?

    It is because God belong to only you!

               Did you hear that?
     Did you hear what Hafiz just said?

          God belong to only you!

      It is the only reasonable payment
                   For a single
                      Tear.


                                               HAFIZ

THE TWO POEMS

Many centuries ago, on the road of Athens, two poets
met, and they were glad to see one another.
And one poet asked another saying, "what have you
composed of late, and how goes it with your lyre?"
   And the other poet answered and said with pride,
"I have but now finished the greatest of my poems,
perchance the greatest poem yet written in Greek. It
is invocation to Zeus the Supreme."
    Then he took from beneath his cloak a parchment,
sating, "Here, behold, I have it with me, and I would fain
read it to you. Come, let us set in the shade of that white
cypress."
     And the pot read his poem. And it was long poem.
     And the other poet said in kindness, "This is a great
poem. It will live through the ages, and in it you shall
be glorified.
    And the first poet said calmly, "And what have you
been writing these late days?"
      And the other answered, "I have written but little.
Only eight lines in remembrance of a child playing in
garden." And he recited the lines.
       The first poet said, "Not so bad; not so bad."
        And they parted.
        And now after two thousand years the eight lines of
the one poet are read in every tongue, and are loved and
cherished.
        And though the other poem has indeed come down
through the ages in libraries and in the cells of scholars,
and though it is remembered, it is neither loved nor read.

                                                        KAHLIL GIBRAN

THE WORLD COMPARED TO A WAX TOY

Once someone asked a dervish to portray
The nature of this world in which we stay.
He said: "This various world is like a toy-
A coloured palm-tree given to a boy,
But made of wax-now knead it in your fist,
And there's the wax of which its shape consist;
The lovely forms and colours are undone,
And what seemed many things is only one.
All things are one-there isn't any two;
It isn't me who speaks; it isn't you."

                                             ATTAR

BISMILLAH

It's a habit of yours to walk slowly.
You hold a grudge for years.
With such heaviness, how can you be modest?
With such attachments, do you expect to arrive anywhere?

Be wide as the air to learn a secret.
Right now you're equal portions clay
and water, thick mud.

Abraham learned how the sun and moon and the star all set.
He said, "No longer will I try to assign partners for God."

You are so weak. Give up to grace.
The ocean takes care of each wave
till it gets to shore.
You need more help than you know.
You're trying to live your life in open scaffolding.
Say Bismillah, "In the name of God,"
as the priest does with a knife when he offers an animal.

Bismillah your old self
to find your real name.

                               RUMI

THE SEED MARKET

Can you find another market like this?
Where,
with your one rose
you can buy hundreds of rose gardens?

Where,
for one seed
you get a whole wilderness?

For one weak breath,
the divine wind?

You've been fearful
of being absorbed in the ground,
or drawn up by the air.

Now, your water bead lets go
and drop into the ocean,
where it came from.

It no longer has the form it had,
but it's still water.
The essence is the same.

This giving up is not a repenting.
It's a deep honoring of yourself.
When the ocean comes to you as a lover,
marry, at once, quickly,
for God's sake!

Don't postpone it!
Existence has no better gift.

No amount of searching
will find this.

A perfect falcon, for no reason,
has landed on your shoulder,
and become yours.

                                            RUMI

ARE WE LOST IN PERCEPTIONS AND THE INTERPRETATIONS?

When we don't cover up the world with words and
labels, a sense of the miraculous returns to your life
that was lost a long time ago when humanity, instead
of using thought,  became possessed by thought. A
depth return to your life. Things regain their newness,
their freshness. And the greatest miracle is the experiencing
of your essential self as prior to any words, thoughts,
mental labels, and images. For this to happen, you need to
disentangle your sense of I, of Beingness, from all the things
it has become mixed up with, that is to say, identified with....
        The quicker you are in attaching verbal or mental labels
to things, people, or situations, the more shallow and lifeless
your reality becomes, and the more deadened you become to
reality,the miracle of life that continuously unfolds within and
around you. In this way, cleverness may be gained, but wisdom
is lost, and so are joy, love, creativity, and aliveness. They are
concealed in the still gap between the perception and the
interpretation. Of course we have to use words and thoughts.
They have their own beauty- but do we need to become
imprisoned in them?
       Words reduce reality to something the human mind can grasp,
which isn't very much. Language consist of five basic sounds
produced by vocal cords. They are the vowels a, e, i, o, u. The
other sounds are consonants produced by air pressure s, f, g, and
so forth. Do you believe some combination of such basic sounds
could ever explain who you are, or the ultimate purpose of the
universe, or even what a tree or stone is in its depth?  

REF:A NEW EARTH BY ECKHART TOLLE

MAHMOUD OFFERS AYAZ THE COMMAND OF HIS ARMIES

One day Mahmoud's unconquered armies made
A splendid pageant drawn up on parade;
And on a mountain-side to watch the show
Of elephants and soldiers spread below,
The king and his two favourite courtiers stood,
Hassan, the slave Ayaz, and Shah Mahmoud.
The serried soldiers, jostling elephants,
Seemed like a plague of locusts or of ants;
More armies at that moment filled the plain
That all the world has seen or will again,
And Mahmoud said: "Ayaz, my child, look down-
All this is yours, dear boy; accept the crown."
The great king spoke-Ayaz seemed quite unmoved,
Lost in his private thoughts; Hassan reproved
The youth and said: "Where are your manners, slave?
Think of the honour that our king just gave!
And yet you stand there like an imbecile,
And do not even murmur thanks or kneel-
How can you justify such gross neglect?
Is this the way you show your king respect?"
Ayaz was silent till this sermon's end,
Then said: "Two answers came to me, my friend.
First then, a slave could grovel on the ground
Or gabble thanks and have the heavens resound
With some self-advertising, long address-
And climb above the king or say far less;
But who am I to interpose my voice
Between the king and his asserted choice?
The slave is his, and regal dignity
Demands that he decide and act, not me.
If in his praise I see both worlds unite,
It is no more than such a monarch's right,
Can I-unworthy to be called his slave-
Comment on how he chooses to behave?"
And when Hassan had heard him speak he said:
"Ayaz a thousand blessings on your head;
Your words convince me and I now believe
That you deserve the favour you receive-
But what's the second of your answers, pray?"
Ayaz replied: "Hassan, I cannot say
Whilst you are here-you do not share the throne.
This mystery is for king alone."
The king dismissed Hassan. "There's no one here,"
He said; "now make your hidden secret clear."
Ayaz replied: "When generosity
Persuades my sovereign lord to glance at me,
My being vanishes in that bright light
Which radiates from his refulgent sight;
His splendour shines, and purified I rise,
Dispersed to nothing by his sun-like eyes.
Existence has deserted me, so how
Could I prostrate myself before you now?
If you see anyone or anything,
It is not me you see-it is the king!
The honour you continually renew
Are offered, given and receive by you;
And from a shadow lost within the sun
What kind of service could you hope for? None!
That shadow called Ayaz must disappear-
Do what you wish; you know he is not here."

                                                        ATTAR