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