(AD 1145–1221; AH 539–617)
One of the greatest mystic poets of Islam, Abu Hamid bin Abu Bakr Ibrahim – better known by his pen names ‘Fariduddin’ and ‘Attar’ – was born and spent most of his long life at Nishapur in north-east Persia.
A pharmacist (attar) by profession, he is most famous in the West for his great mystical poem Mantiq al-Tayr (The Conference of the Birds), an elaborate allegory about a search for a mythical bird (i.e., God). Attar’s other chief works are Ilahinama (The Book of the Divine), a parable of the quest for happiness of the six sons of a king; and Tadhkirat al-Awliya, a collection of 97 biographies of Muslim mystic saints.
Attar lived in turbulent times, yet managed to survive and produce an enormous amount of work on a variety of subjects and themes. It is without doubt that his spirituality sustained and inspired all of his writings. He was assured of his own talent and confident enough to proclaim himself the ‘seal of poets’.
The fire of Your Love is best inside the soul;
And the soul burning with Your Love is best of all.
One who has tasted a drop of Your wine today
Is happy drunk and dazed till judgement day.
When You came to be, I was hidden;
In the Beloved’s presence, it was best not to be.
Give me pain, and cure me not of my Love,
’Cause Your pain is better than any balm.
Since none hope to meet You in this life,
This hopeless search for You is best of all.
Without You, I am witness to dry autumn.
In such an eye, the rain of tears is best of all.
Like a candle in separation from You,
It’s best that Attar weeps all night.
Whoever received an atom of this pain of Love,
For him both yesterday and tomorrow become today.
Everything we see is really One,
The months, the years are all just a day.
A thousand centuries have passed us by,
Yet this pain forever haunts us in the same way.
Whoever embarks on the search for a friend
Must burn in this fire and wait;
But each day he burns,
is his day to celebrate.
I see only an atom of this pain
whose sweet sting
Has reached the depth
of everything.
This pain is nothing else
Than the one that stokes the fire of Love;
This is the pain of that secret
That offers us a reason to live and love.
Your beauty overshadows the world’s allure;
It overcomes the desire
To exist, and the universe entire!
He who was so proud of his intellect and sanity,
Your single glance has brought to naught his vanity.
Reflection from Your Moon-like face reaches the Sun
And Lo! the Sun is brought low by it, O Beautiful One!
The magicians of Babel were beguiled,
Though they may be clever and wise,
When they saw the magic of Your eyes!
Yearning for You and torn apart,
Separation has broken Attar’s heart!
What is the way to the mosque and tavern?
’Cause both are forbidden to me, O friend!
I did not dwell in the mosque,
Because of drunkenness and censure,
Nor in the tavern,
As the wine-seller was immature.
Between mosque and tavern
There is a middle way;
Search for it, friends,
And find it; that’s the place to pray…
Today the Kaaba is a temple for me,
The Saqi is my leader, the Qazi is with me.
Go away, for Attar knows full well
Who is the Lord and who is lost, astray!
O You who have revealed
My hidden sorrow to the world,
Who am I that I received
Your fragrance in my soul?
I am stricken by sorrow.
Cast a glance this way,
For it’s You who know
My secret, and with my heart You play!
O Love of mine,
In the hope of seeing You I roam.
In the valley of separation,
Eternally, I’ve made my home.
It’s You who know the cure
Of my pain.
I’ve reached the limit, give me
The balm of Your love again.
Attar’s soul is dishevelled
Like Your dark hair;
Bring him together, make him whole
And save his scattered weary soul.
What madness has seized me because of You?
What is this tumult in my soul that You have instilled?
Because of You I am in a state of disarray.
It’s not my norm to behave in this way.
I came pure and chaste from the two worlds,
Purified by the fire of Your Love divine.
That fire You have lit in my soul
Shall be my guide, eternal and sublime.
Where is the eye that can see You?
The Beloved is there, but the eyes are blind.
We are lost in our own veil,
While everywhere Your vision prevails.
So long as Attar is lost in Your sorrow
The people of the heart will always yearn for him!
And as His Essence all the world pervades
Naught in Creation is, save this alone.
Upon the waters has He fixed His Throne,
This earth suspended in the starry space,
Yet what are seas and what is air? For all
Is God, and but a talisman are heaven and earth
To veil Divinity. For heaven and earth,
Did He not permeate them, were but names;
Know then, that both this visible world and that
Which unseen is, alike are God Himself,
Naught is, save God: and all that is, is God.
And yet, alas! by how few is He seen,
Blind are men’s eyes, though all resplendent shines
The world by Deity’s own light illumined,
O Thou, whom man perceiveth not, although
To him Thou deignest to make known Thyself;
Thou all Creation art, all we behold, but Thou,
The soul within the body lies concealed,
And Thou dost hide Thyself within the soul,
O soul in soul! Myst’ry in myst’ry hid!
Before all wert Thou, and are more than all!
Lucy M. J. Garnett
Drunken reason is a precious gift from Your love;
My heart, a slave of those intoxicating eyes.
Wherever we find on earth goodness and quality
It’s a garment that suits one with Your beauty.
There is no beauty greater than Thine.
The Sun and Moon adorned because of Thee.
The Sun that lights up the two worlds
Gets its beauty and light from Thee.
Wherever we see beauty, loveliness divine,
It’s only a reflection of Thine.
Both the worlds, this and all that exists,
Are thirsting to drink from this ocean pure.
Because nothing exists in this world save Thee
And none in this world can compare to Thee,
Whoever has the eye to see
Is in truth blinded by Thee.
Farid is in this state of madness today;
He’s considered wise, because he’s mad for Thee.
Since I received Your gift of Love,
My task has become difficult, my Love.
Water pours out of our eyes;
There is a fire in our hearts, my Love.
Since eternity, before creation,
My soul is lost in Your fascination.
Not just the soul is entranced by You,
The heart, too, stands in line to wait on You.
Followers of the path are certain of Your Love,
And their destination is Your abode, my Love.
I arrive empty and seek Your grace,
Reason here has no place in this place!
Let no one ask why and what this is;
This is a mystery that no answer gives.
Attar’s heart is lost in You!
He is like a wounded bird for You!
I shall be drunk tonight and
Dance with a cup of wine in my hand!
I shall wander through the streets
Of drunkenness and lose all in a game of chance.
How long shall I be a hypocrite?
How long will I worship my Self?
I want to tear this veil of puritan pride;
I want to break this false vow of abstinence;
Time has come to have some courage
And prepare to be a slave of Love.
Give me such intoxicating wine, O Saqi;
Hurry or the sorrow will pervade my soul!
Pass the wine, yes, pass the wine!
So that we can bring down the skies under our feet,
So Mercury becomes obedient to our wish,
And Venus our adoring lover.
Like Attar we shall cross the bounds
And lose ourselves in boundless Love!
The path of Love is without end;
If you value life then stay away.
If you give your life, then learn,
A thousand are given in return.
He who shies away and saves his life
Shall be forever regretful of his fate.
Love of the Beloved enters my heart,
Announces that tonight is the night.
If your heart is annihilated for your Beloved,
Then peace is being restless and distraught.
Your first step in the field of Love
Is to be slain or reach the cross!
And then you will be burnt, so you can see
That the light of Love shines in the fire’s heart.
And when you become ashes and dust,
Then you will dance reflected by the Sun.
You will not mourn the burning or the slaying
As that Sun is your life sustaining;
And he who is entangled in being
Is trapped, unheeding as he is unseeing.
Lovers are strangers to themselves;
They are drunk with the wine of selflessness.
Away from temple and mosque,
They sit in the drinking tavern day and night.
Though they’re drunk completely,
There is no Saqi or the cup or wine.
From pre-eternity they are with the spirits
And to the eternal end they are with the heavenly.
They traverse body and soul in a moment
And live undaunted in the Sufi way.
They are a hidden treasure,1
Hence they dwell in the wilderness.
The two worlds are a mere fantasy for them;
That is why in both worlds they are a fantasy.
The two worlds are the oyster and they
The pearl that dwells within.
They know themselves, even in their drunkenness,
Enough to be unaware of themselves.
They don’t care if the world exists or not,
Thus they are both mad and sane.
Whoever has dwelt in this world like Attar
Is free of home and hearth and the world.
My drunkenness is alien to the sober;
They do not understand this work.
Those worldly ones that sit in the church
Do not understand the sorrow of the drunkard’s heart.
Those who are wrapped in the cloak of pride
Cannot see behind the veil of mystery.
Those who have not been separated from their Beloved
Will not understand my night without my Love.
Without my Beloved I was a prisoner in my home,
So that the others would not see my pain;
The sorrow of the nightingale, the yearning of the bud,
Only the flower in the garden can understand.
All who are not caught in the pain of Love
Will not find a balm for Attar’s pain.
In Love young and old are the same.
In Love loss and gain are the same.
In Love the worlds are the same.
In Love autumn and spring are the same.
Its down is up and up is down.
The earth and heavens are the same.
The place of Love is a circle,
Each spot is equal to the other.
If the Beloved scorns you or welcomes you,
It’s all the same.
In the tradition of Love to die
Is the same as gaining eternal life.
How can sober Reason understand
The drunkenness of Love?
How can Reason solve
The mystery of Love?
Reason is like a drop
Removed from the ocean;
How can this drop understand
The meaning of Love?
Reason has put many a stitch on it,
But no robe could it sew
To fit the body of Love.
You may hate the two worlds
With all your soul,
Yet even then,
You’ll feel the warmth of Love.
Since Love is the work of the heart
Open the eyes of your heart
And look at the friends,
How drunk they are with Love!
Each being in His love,
Breathes in His love.
If you are to be annihilated
Then lose yourself in Love!
As Being entered existence
And closed its eyes for a moment
It was overwhelmed
By the tumult of Love.
Since Attar’s heart
Did a ray from this Sun gain,
He started his journey to roam
And arrived in the desert of Love.
Saqi, I have broken my vows,
Do pour some wine into my cup!
I have no enmity with wine.
I worship it! I worship it!
I am burnt by the hypocrites;
I am separate from the half-baked.
I am ashamed of these shameless ones
And have broken my vows in front of the idol!
I went and broke my vow
And became free of all my sins!
Happy with my fellow drinkers
I kept my promise with friends.
I am without name or fame,
But of the common folk, I’m not;
I am the slave of the wine-seller,
I worship the wine!
Belief and heart I have let go
And willing to die at the Beloved’s door
I’ve left this world behind
And have lost my Self, my mind.
I have cast aside my robe,
Drunk the pure water divine;
Casting aside Reason’s constraint,
I stand in line with drunken friends!
I turned my robe into an infidel’s
Girdle and my home into a wine tavern,
Opened all the doors
And searched for deserving drinkers!
O Saqi, give me that wine!
Then do whatever comes to your mind!
Throw me out of the mosque,
As I went there drunk last night.
The tears of Attar’s eyes
Banish sleep from me;
So drunk I am, I know not
Who I am!
In the place of majesty, I claimed to be Sultan
And I set my camp in the camp of the Lord.
My Love, my taste, could not distinguish
Between Saqi, cup or wine,
And Muslim and unbeliever,
All I hit with Unity’s stick divine.
I took out the sword of Love
From the scabbard
And without hesitation
Wielded it at Reason’s neck!
Wouldst thou inherit Paradise,
These maxims keep before thine eyes;
So thy heart’s mirror shall appear,
For ever shining bright and clear.
Give thanks when Fortune smiles serene,
Be patient when her frown is seen;
If thou hast sinned, for pardon plead,
And help shall follow at thy need.
But shall he hope the prize to hold,
Who with new sins conceals the old?
Be penitent, be watchful still,
And fly the votaries of ill;
Avoid the paths that lead to vice,
And win thy way to Paradise.
Louisa Stuart Costello
Unbounded praise to God be given,
Who from His throne, the height of heaven,
Looked on this handful of frail earth –
Unnoticed man – and gave him birth.
On Adam breathed, and bade the wave
Pause, and His servant, Noah, save;
The tempest, with His terrors clad,
And swept from earth the tribe of Ad.1
And for His ‘friend’, O blissful name!
To roses changed a bed of flame:
The smallest insect, at His will,
Becomes an instrument of ill.
He spoke, the sea o’erwhelms His foes,
And the hard rock a camel grows!
The iron turns, at His command,
To pliant wax, in David’s hand.
To Solomon He gave his sway,
And bade the Dives2 his sign obey;
To one a diadem is given,
Another’s head the saw has riven.
Impartial in His goodness still,
Equal to all is good or ill.
One lies on Persian silk reclined,
One naked in a frozen wind;
One scarce can count his heaps of ore,
One faints with hunger at the door.
He bade a virgin’s child appear,
And made an infant’s witness clear.
The Dives before His vengeance fly,
By hosts of stars expelled the sky,
And kings, who hold the world in thrall,
At His great word to ruin fall.
Louisa Stuart Costello