Terre

Anna Ådén

Nothing happens until you quit contriving

with your mind. Quit your talking.

Consider the story of Sadri Jahan of Bukhara, 

who was very generous with beggars.

He wrapped pieces of gold in bits of paper

and gave them away as the sun and the moon 

gamble their light trying to let go quickly

of the radiance given them.

Every morning Jahan chose a different set of people.

One day it might be the sick. Another, the widows, 

or those law students, the ordinary country people,

or those in debt. Everybody had a turn

to receive Jahan's gold.

He only had one rule:

                                    You mustn't ask out loud.

When he walked out, the mendicants stood

like silent walls on either side of his path.

If anyone made a begging sound to get his attention,

the punishment was no alms, ever again.

His motto was,

               BLESSED ARE THE SILENT

One day a wandering beggar blurted out suddenly,

"Please sir, I'm hungry."

                                       Sadri Jahan turned,

"Have you no shame, old man?"

                                                    Quickly came the reply,

"Ah, but you're more shameless than I, Jahan."

                                                                           "How?"

"You enjoy this world, and in your greed for giving

you try to bring the other world here

to enjoy that one too."

Sadri Jahan laughed and gave him money,

but except for that on instance, he never gave 

to those who spoke when he went by.

                                                             Another day,

it was the poor law students. One of them 

began a little Involuntary whining noise

as Jahan approached. Jahan heard and noted

the impatience, and the punishment began.

The next day the law student put splints on his legs

and wrapped them in rags and stood among the crippled

with his head down. But Jahan recognised him.

The next day he put on a woman's robe and tried to mix
with the widows, totally veiled, but Jahan somehow
knew which outstretched hand not to put alms in.

In desparation the student went to a shroud-maker.
"Wrap me in black felt and set me out on the road.
When Jahan comes by, say nothing.
Just sit beside me, and anything he gives,
I'll split it with you."
                                   So there they were,
the student lying wrapped in his shroud,
and the other beside him.

Jahan paused and dropped some gold pieces
on the shroud. The dead man's hand shot out to grab it,
so the shroud maker wouldn't run off with the take.

He unwrapped himself and raised his head.
                                                                       "See Jahan,
I found a way back into your generosity."
                                                                     "Yes,
but you had to die to do it."
                                             Here is the mystery
of Die before you die. Favours come
only after you develop the skill of dying,
and even that capacity is a mystical favour.

Be silent and wait,
and when the clear, green forehead stone
is given, wear it.


(Mathnawi, VI, 3798-3842)

Rumi
[Coleman Barks]

Thank you Coleman Barks.