| The Prince And The Slave Girl |
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| .....I got the treasure but with patience
Patience is bitter; it�s hard to suit Later the same bears sweet fruit O Divine wisdom! In thy light relief I do seek Patience leads to magnanimity so do they speak Embracing you shall rejoin question in mind I salute thy capacity O compliant! O kind! You nurture silent wishes heart does stamp Releasing all who caught a foot in swamp Hail thee! O The Elected, The Chosen One You vanish, leaving no room to breathe, death reign You are the leader, who is not following after Nothing can stop him from falling of disaster? |
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| On Patience |
| The holy physician has requested Prince to �Be patient��meaning do not seek to see quick desired results and the prince had submitted his assurance. Here Rumi favors the eternal virtue �patience� (Welcoming Hazrat Muhammad (SAW) as leader of the patient): |
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| Do not press others to stick to you and cause war�who has to go�let go. Some will go�few will return�and still others will come� So world is Aani Jaani, filled with possibilities of meeting, deceiving, returning, and forgiving. Let not Love drain your heart�Let it be filled and refilled like cup of wine�which is constantly overflowing, emptying and refilling itself. Love in essence matters�it must be there in your heart. Its physical embodiment does not matter much In the story, however, the pair enjoyed together utmost harmony and happiness for six months. At the end of that period the physician, by divine command, gave the goldsmith a poisonous draught, which caused his strength and beauty to decay, and he then lost fervor and then ofcourse favor with the maiden. Here Rumi gives his diction of pure love. |
| Translation & Commentry: Seema Arif |
| Reckon not Love! Bound to beauty in face
Reckless but it is bearing insult and disgrace May that Love in her heart had endured So much wrath it had never stored Here the dying goldsmith exclaims: Eyes wailing now of bleeding stream My face my enemy hath its gleam Peacock�s rival color wringing in feather Kings killed for their mighty splendor World is mountain, our actions voice Echoing around, returning, no choice The holy physician tells the prince, now that goldsmith is gone, the maiden�s heart is free. Loving dead shall not much endure Cause life in them will never restore Loving spirited alive twinkles the eye Feeling fresh like blossom in sky Love that �Life� that lives Divine Cherishes your heart with eternal wine Love Him as all gracious Prophets did With honor and respect duly profited No excuse! He is out of reach The pious never fail to beseech |
| On True Love |
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