Farid ud-Din Attar

* WISDOM TROVE *

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1:Death is the only remedy against death. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

2:The soul is veiled by the body; God is veiled by the soul. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

3:Is one, indeed, master of himself when he follows his own caprices? ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

4:Look into thy heart and thou shalt see there His image. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar, “Mantic-uttair,” 13,

5:Lose thyself in Him to penetrate this mystery; everything else is superfluous. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

6:An atom of love is to be preferred to all that exists between the two horizons. ~ Farid-ud-din attar,

7:Only from his own soul can he demand the secret of eternal beauty. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar, “Mantic-uttair.”,

8:Whosoever has oneness engraven in his heart, forgets all things and forgets himself. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

9:Knowest thou not that thy life, whether long or brief, consists only of a few breathings? ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

10:Reason cannot dwell with the madness of love : love has nothing to do with the human reason. ~ Farid-ud-din attar,

11:The true royalty is spiritual knowledge; put forth thy efforts to attain it. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar, “Mantic utttair”,

12:Gather thyself into thyself crouched like an infant in the bosom of its mother. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar, “Mantic uttair”,

13:True royalty consists in spiritual knowledge; turn thy efforts to its attainment. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar, “Mantic uttair.”,

14:So long as thou art not dead to all things, one by one, thou canst not set thy feet in this portico. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

15:In each atom thou shalt see the All, thou shalt contemplate millions of secrets asluminous as the sun. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

16:It needs a lion-hearted man to travel the extraordinary path; for the way is long and the sea is deep. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

17:So long as thou livest in the bewilderment and seduction of pride, thou shalt abide far from the truth. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

18:Men and women live in the world without yet having any idea either of the visible world or the invisible. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

19:If the atom is lost in the sun of immensity, it will participate, although a simple atom, in its eternal duration. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

20:Attach thyself to the sense of-things and not to their form. The sense is the essential, the form is only an encumbrance. ~ Farid-ud.din-attar : Mantic uttair,

21:It is much better to observe justice than to pass one's whole life in the prostrations and genuflexions of an external worship. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar; Mantic uttair,

22:If thou givest thyself up to the least pride, thou art no longer master of thyself, thou losest thy understanding as if thou wert drunk with wine. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

23:O Thou who hast hidden thyself behind a veil, withdraw that veil at last, so that my soul may not consume itself in the search for Thee. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar “Mantic Uttair.”,

24:Heaven and Earth are only a talisman which conceals the Deity; without It they are but a vain name. Know then that the visible world and the invisible are God Himself. There is only He and all that is, is He. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

25:Heaven and Earth are only a talisman which conceals the Deity; without It they are but a vain name. Know then that the visible world and the invisible are God Himself. There is only He and all that is, is He. ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

26:Thou hast lost thyself in the search for the mystery of life and death; but seek out thy path before thy life be taken from thee. If living thou find it not, hopest thou to reach this great mystery when thou art dead? ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

27:To love, one must have no reservation, but be prepared to cast oneself into the flame and to give up into it a hundred worlds...In this path there is no difference between good and evil ; indeed with love neither good nor evil exists any longer. ~ Farid-ud-din attar,

28:If thou remain in isolation, thou shalt never be able to travel the path of the spirit; a guide is needed. Go not alone by thyself, enter not as a blind man into that ocean...Since thou art utterly ignorant what thou shouldst do to issue out of the pit of this world, how shalt thou dispense with a sure guide? ~ Farid-ud-din-attar,

29:/Farsi Not You but I, have seen and been and wrought. . . . Who in your Fraction of Myself behold Myself within the Mirror Myself hold To see Myself in, and each part of Me That sees himself, though drown'd, shall ever see. Come you lost Atoms to your Centre draw, And be the Eternal Mirror that you saw: Rays that have wander'd into Darkness wide Return, and back into your Sun subside.

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Eternal Mirror
,

30:/Farsi How long then will you seek for beauty here? Seek the unseen, and beauty will appear. When the last veil is lifted neither men Nor all their glory will be seen again, The universe will fade -- this mighty show In all its majesty and pomp will go, And those who loved appearances will prove Each other's enemies and forfeit love, While those who loved the absent, unseen Friend Will enter that pure love which knows no end. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, How long then will you seek for beauty here?
,

31:/Farsi Your face is neither infinite nor ephemeral. You can never see your own face, only a reflection, not the face itself. So you sigh in front of mirrors and cloud the surface. It's better to keep your breath cold. Hold it, like a diver does in the ocean. One slight movement, the mirror-image goes. Don't be dead or asleep or awake. Don't be anything. What you most want, what you travel around wishing to find, lose yourself as lovers lose themselves, and you'll be that. [1841.jpg] -- from The Hand of Poetry: Five Mystic Poets of Persia, with Lectures by Inayat Khan, Translated by Coleman Barks

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, Looking for your own face
,

32:/Farsi Look -- I do nothing; He performs all deeds And He endures the pain when my heart bleeds. When He draws near and grants you an audience Should you hang back in tongue-tied diffidence? When will your cautious heart consent to go Beyond the homely boundaries you know? O slave, if He should show His love to you, Love which His deeds perpetually renew, You will be nothing, you will disappear -- Leave all to Him who acts, and have no fear. If there is any "you", if any wraith Of self persists, you've strayed outside our faith. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, Look -- I do nothing- He performs all deeds
,

33:/Farsi I shall grasp the soul's skirt with my hand and stamp on the world's head with my foot. I shall trample Matter and Space with my horse, beyond all Being I shall utter a great shout, and in that moment when I shall be alone with Him, I shall whisper secrets to all mankind. Since I shall have neither sign nor name I shall speak only of things unnamed and without sign. Do not delude yourself that from a burned heart I will discourse with palette and tongue. The body is impure, I shall cast it away and utter these pure words with soul alone. [1482.jpg] -- from Music of a Distant Drum: Classical Arabic, Persian, Turkish & Hebrew Poems, Translated by Bernard Lewis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, I shall grasp the souls skirt with my hand
,

34:/Farsi A frenzied dervish, mad with love for God, Sought out bare hills where none had ever trod. Wild leopards kept this madman company -- His heart was plunged in restless ecstasy; He lived within this state for twenty days, Dancing and singing in exultant praise: "There's no division; we two are alone -- The world of happiness and grief has flown." Die to yourself -- no longer stay apart, But give to Him who asks for it your heart; The man whose happiness derives from Him Escapes existence, and the world grows dim; Rejoice for ever in the Friend, rejoice Till you are nothing, but a praising voice. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, A dervish in ecstasy
,

35:/Farsi 'A lover', said the hoopoe, now their guide, 'Is one in whom all thoughts of self have died; Those who renounce the self deserve that name; Righteous or sinful, they are all the same! Your heart is thwarted by the self's control; Destroy its hold on you and reach your goal. Give up this hindrance, give up mortal sight, For only then can you approach the light. If you are told: "Renounce our Faith," obey! The self and Faith must both be tossed away; Blasphemers call such action blasphemy -- Tell them that love exceeds mere piety. Love has no time for blasphemy or faith, Nor lovers for the self, that feeble wraith. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Lover
,

36:/Farsi The pilgrim sees no form but His and knows That He subsists beneath all passing shows -- The pilgrim comes from Him whom he can see, Lives in Him, with Him, and beyond all three. Be lost in Unity's inclusive span, Or you are human but not yet a man. Whoever lives, the wicked and the blessed, Contains a hidden sun within his breast -- Its light must dawn though dogged by long delay; The clouds that veil it must be torn away -- Whoever reaches to his hidden sun Surpasses good and bad and knows the One. The good and bad are here while you are here; Surpass yourself and they will disappear. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The pilgrim sees no form but His and knows
,

37:/Farsi The sun can only be seen by the light of the sun. The more a man or woman knows, the greater the bewilderment, the closer to the sun the more dazzled, until a point is reached where one no longer is. A mystic knows without knowledge, without intuition or information, without contemplation or description or revelation. Mystics are not themselves. They do not exist in selves. They move as they are moved, talk as words come, see with sight that enters their eyes. I met a woman once and asked her where love had led her. "Fool, there's no destination to arrive at. Loved one and lover and love are infinite." [1841.jpg] -- from The Hand of Poetry: Five Mystic Poets of Persia, with Lectures by Inayat Khan, Translated by Coleman Barks

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, Mysticism
,

38:/Farsi We are busy with the luxury of things. Their number and multiple faces bring To us confusion we call knowledge. Say: God created the world, pinned night to day, Made mountains to weigh it down, seas To wash its face, living creatures with pleas (The ancestors of prayers) seeking a place In this mystery that floats in endless space. God set the earth on the back of a bull, The bull on a fish dancing on a spool Of silver light so fine it is like air; That in turn rests on nothing there But nothing that nothing can share. All things are but masks at God's beck and call, They are symbols that instruct us that God is all. [1490.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds: The Selected Sufi Poetry of Farid ud-Din Attar, Translated by Raficq Abdulla

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, Invocation
,

39:/Farsi Once more they ventured from the Dust to raise Their Eyes -- up to the Throne -- into the Blaze, And in the Centre of the Glory there Beheld the Figure of -- Themselves -- as 'twere Transfigured -- looking to Themselves, beheld The Figure on the Throne en-miracled, Until their Eyes themselves and That between Did hesitate which Seer was, which Seen; They That, That They: Another, yet the Same; Dividual, yet One: from whom there came A Voice of awful Answer, scarce discern'd, From which to Aspiration whose return'd They scarcely knew; as when some Man apart Answers aloud the Question in his Heart: 'The Sun of my Perfection is a Glass Wherein from Seeing into Being pass.' [1831.jpg] -- from Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty, Edited by Alan Jacobs

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Birds Find Their King
,

40:/Farsi 'Why was Adam driven from the garden?' The pupil asked his master. 'His heart was hardened With images, a hundred bonds that clutter the earth Chained Adam to the cycle of death following birth. He was blind to this equation, living for something other Than God and so out of paradise he was driven With his mortal body's cover his soul was shriven. Noblest of God's creatures, Adam fell with blame, Like a moth shriveled by the candle's flame, Into history which taught mankind shame. Since Adam had not given up his heart To God's attachment, there was no part For Adam in paradise where the only friend Is God; His will is not for Adam to imagine and bend.' [1490.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds: The Selected Sufi Poetry of Farid ud-Din Attar, Translated by Raficq Abdulla

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Pupil asks- the Master answers
,

41:/Farsi One day God spoke to Moses and said: 'Visit Satan, question him, use your head.' So Moses descended to Hell's burning halls; Satan saw him coming, a smile did he install On his fiery face. Moses proudly asked him For advice, waiting for Satan's crafty whim; Satan spoke through his coal-black teeth: 'Remember this rule which sense bequeaths Never say "I" so that you become like me.' So long as you live for yourself you'll be A drum booming pride a cymbal of infidelity. Vanity, resentment, envy and anger shall be cemented Into your inner state; you shall be like a demented Dog with lolling tongue, infected with indolence of sin. You shall become your own tracked prisoner within. [1490.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds: The Selected Sufi Poetry of Farid ud-Din Attar, Translated by Raficq Abdulla

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, God Speaks to Moses
,

42:/Farsi Lost in myself I reappeared I know not where a drop that rose from the sea and fell and dissolved again; a shadow that stretched itself out at dawn, when the sun reached noon I disappeared. I have no news of my coming or passing away-- the whole thing happened quicker than a breath; ask no questions of the moth. In the candle flame of his face I have forgotten all the answers. In the way of love there must be knowledge and ignorance so I have become both a dullard and a sage; one must be an eye and yet not see so I am blind and yet I still perceive, Dust be on my head if I can say where I in bewilderment have wandered: Attar watched his heart transcend both worlds and under its shadow now is gone mad with love. [1501.jpg] -- from The Drunken Universe: An Anthology of Persian Sufi Poetry, Translated by Peter Lamborn Wilson / Translated by Nasrollah Pourjavady

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Dullard Sage
,

43:/Farsi The angels have bowed down to you and drowned Your soul in Being, past all plummet's sound -- Do not despise yourself, for there is none Who could with you sustain comparison; Do not torment yourself -- your soul is All, Your body but a fleeting particle. This All will clarify, and in its light Each particle will shine, distinctly bright -- As flesh remains an agent of the soul, You soul's an agent of the sacred Whole. But "part" and "whole" must disappear at last; The Way is one, and number is surpassed. A hundred thousand clouds above you press; Their rain is pure, unending happiness; And when the desert blooms with flowers, their scent And beauty minister to your content; The prayers of all the angels, all they do, All their obedience, God bestows on you. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The angels have bowed down to you and drowned
,

44:/Farsi David was an open vessel, the light Poured into him. God's words took flight In him and through him God said: 'To all humankind, who are wed To hubris and sin, I say: "If heaven and hell Did not exist to catch you and break you, Would you, though a speck of dust, tell Truth from falsehood, would your eye find true Centre in my words? If there was nothing but dark Would you think of me, still less mark Your place with the leaf of prayer? Yet You are bound to my will, your soul is set In the direction of my breath, with hope And fear which cracks the dawn of your heart, So you will worship me with all your mind Words and inclination. Make a start: Burn to ashes all that is not I, bind The ashes to the fidelity of the wind, Extract the ore of your being, Then you shall start seeing."' [1490.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds: The Selected Sufi Poetry of Farid ud-Din Attar, Translated by Raficq Abdulla

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, God Speaks to David
,

45:/Farsi Loghman of Sarrakhs cried: "Dear God, behold Your faithful servant, poor, bewildered, old-- An old slave is permitted to go free; I've spent my life in patient loyalty, I'm bent with grief, my black hair's turned to snow; Grant manumission, Lord, and let me go." A voice replied: "When you have gained release from mind and thought, your slavery will cease; You will be free when these two disappear." He said: "Lord, it is You whom I revere; What are the mind and all its ways to me?" And left them there and then -- in ecstasy He danced and clapped his hands and boldly cried: "Who am I now? The slave I was has died; What's freedom, servitude, and where are they? Both happiness and grief have fled away; I neither own nor lack all qualities; My blindness looks on secret mysteries -- I know not whether You are I, I You; I lose myself in You, there is no two." [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, A slaves freedom
,

46:/Farsi All who, reflecting as reflected see Themselves in Me, and Me in them; not Me, But all of Me that of contracted Eye Is comprehensive of Infinity; Nor yet Themselves: no Selves, but of The All Fractions, from which they split and wither fall. As Water lifted from the Deep, again Falls back in individual Drops of Rain, Then melts into the Universal Main. All you have been, and seen, and done, and thought, Not You but I, have seen and been and wrought: I was the Sin that from Myself rebell'd; I the Remorse that tow'rd Myself compell'd; I was the Tajidar who led the Track; I was the little Briar that pull'd you back: Sin and Contrition -- Retribution owed, And cancell'd -- Pilgrim, Pilgrimage, and Road, Was but Myself toward Myself; and Your Arrival but Myself at my own Door; Who in your Fraction of Myself behold Myself within the Mirror Myself hold To see Myself in, and each part of Me That sees himself, though drown'd, shall ever see. Come you lost Atoms to your Centre draw, And be the Eternal Mirror that you saw: Rays that have wander'd into Darkness wide Return, and back into your Sun subside.' [1831.jpg] -- from Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty, Edited by Alan Jacobs

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, All who, reflecting as reflected see
,

47:/Farsi When you begin the Valley of the Quest Misfortunes will deprive you of all rest, Each moment some new trouble terrifies, And parrots there are panic-stricken flies. There years must vanish while you strive and grieve; There is the heart of all you will achieve -- Renounce the world, your power and all you own, And in your heart's blood journey on alone. When once your hands are empty, then your heart Must purify itself and move apart From everything that is -- when this is done, The Lord's light blazes brighter than the sun, Your heart is bathed in splendour and the quest Expands a thousandfold within your breast. Though fire flares up across the path, and though A hundred monsters peer out from its glow, The pilgrim driven on by his desire Will like a moth rush gladly on the fire. When love inspires his heart he begs for win, One drop to be vouchsafed him as a sign -- And when he drinks this drop both worlds are gone; Dry-lipped he founders in oblivion. His zeal to know faith's mysteries will make Him fight with dragons for salvation's sake -- Though blasphemy and curses crowd the gate, Until it opens he will calmly wait, And then where is this faith? this blasphemy? Both vanish into strenghless vacancy. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Valley of the Quest
,

48:/Farsi Next came the peacock, splendidly arrayed In many-coloured pomp; this he displayed As if he were some proud, self-conscious bride Turning with haughty looks from side to side. 'The Painter of the world created me,' He shrieked, 'but this celestial wealth you see Should not excite your hearts to jealousy. I was a dweller once in paradise; There the insinuating snake's advice Deceived me -- I became his friend, disgrace Was swift and I was banished from that place. My dearest hope is that some blessed day A guide will come to indicate the way Back to my paradise. The king you praise Is too unknown a goal; my inward gaze Is fixed for ever on that lovely land -- There is the goal which I can understand. How could I seek the Simorgh out when I Remember paradise?' And in reply The hoopoe said: 'These thoughts have made you stray Further and further from the proper Way; You think your monarch's palace of more worth Than Him who fashioned it and all the earth. The home we seek is in eternity; The Truth we seek is like a shoreless sea, Of which your paradise is but a drop. This ocean can be yours; why should you stop Beguiled by dreams of evanescent dew? The secrets of the sun are yours, but you Content yourself with motes trapped in its beams. Turn to what truly lives, reject what seems -- Which matters more, the body or the soul? Be whole: desire and journey to the Whole. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The peacocks excuse
,

49:/Farsi The nightingale raises his head, drugged with passion, Pouring the oil of earthly love in such a fashion That the other birds shaded with his song, grow mute. The leaping mysteries of his melodies are acute. 'I know the secrets of Love, I am their piper,' He sings, 'I seek a David with broken heart to decipher Their plaintive barbs, I inspire the yearning flute, The daemon of the plucked conversation of the lute. The roses are dissolved into fragrance by my song, Hearts are torn with its sobbing tone, broken along The fault lines of longing filled with desire's wrong. My music is like the sky's black ocean, I steal The listener's reason, the world becomes the seal Of dreams for chosen lovers, where only the rose Is certain. I cannot go further, I am lame, and expose My anchored soul to the divine Way. My love for the rose is sufficient, I shall stay In the vicinity of its petalled image, I need No more, it blooms for me the rose, my seed. The hoopoe replies: 'You love the rose without thought. Nightingale, your foolish song is caught By the rose's thorns, it is a passing thing. Velvet petal, perfume's repose bring You pleasure, yes, but sorrow too For the rose's beauty is shallow: few Escape winter's frost. To seek the Way Release yourself from this love that lasts a day. The bud nurtures its own demise as day nurtures night. Groom yourself, pluck the deadly rose from your sight. [1490.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds: The Selected Sufi Poetry of Farid ud-Din Attar, Translated by Raficq Abdulla

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Nightingale
,

50:/Farsi Ah, the Simurgh, who is this wondrous being Who, one fated night, when time stood still, Flew over China, not a single soul seeing? A feather fell from this King, his beauty and his will, And all hearts touched by it were in tumult thrown. Everyone who could, traced from it a liminal form; All who saw the still glowing lines were blown By longing like trees on a shore bent by storm. The feather is lodged in China's sacred places, Hence the Prophet's exhortation for knowledge to seek Even unto China where the feather's shadow graces All who shelter under it -- to know of this is not to speak. But unless the feather's image is felt and seen None knows the heart's obscure, shifting states That replace the fat of inaction with decision's lean. His grace enters the world and molds our fates Though without the limit of form or definite shape, For all definitions are frozen contradictions not fit For knowing; therefore, if you wish to travel on the Way, Set out on it now to find the Simurgh, don't prattle and sit On your haunches till into stiffening death you stray. All the birds who were by this agitation shook, Aspired to a meeting place to prepare for the Shah, To release in themselves the revelations of the Book; They yearned so deeply for Him who is both near and far, They were drawn to this sun and burned to an ember; But the road was long and perilous that was open to offer. Hooked by terror, though each was asked to remember The truth, each an excuse to stay behind was keen to proffer. [1490.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds: The Selected Sufi Poetry of Farid ud-Din Attar, Translated by Raficq Abdulla

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Simurgh
,

51:/Farsi He was a soldier with a soldier's pride, This hawk, whose home was by a king's side. He was haughty as his master, all other birds Thought him a disaster, his beak was feared As much as his talons. With hooded eyes (His place on the royal roster was his prize) He stands sentinel on the king's arm, polite And trained meticulously to do what is right And proper with courtly grace. He has no need To see the Simurgh even in a dream, his deeds Are sufficient for him, and no journey could replace The royal command, royal morsel food no disgrace To his way of thinking, he easily satisfies the king. He flies with cutting grace on sinister wing Through valleys and upward into the sky, He has no other wish but so to live and then to die. The hoopoe says: 'You have no sense with your soldier's pride. Do you think that supping with kings, doing their will Is enough to keep you in favour, always at their side? An earthly king may be just but you must beware still For a king's justice is whim pretending to be good. Once there was a king who prized his slave for his beauty. His body's silver sheen fascinated the prince who would Dress him in fine clothes so his looks alone were his duty. The king amused himself by placing on his favourite's head An apple for a bullseye, the poor silver slave would grow Yellow with fear because he knew too well blood is red. His silver hue would be tarnished if the king's bow Was not true; an injured slave would his silver lose To be discarded because the king would not be amused.' [1490.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds: The Selected Sufi Poetry of Farid ud-Din Attar, Translated by Raficq Abdulla

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The Hawk
,

52:/Farsi Moths gathered in a fluttering throng one night To learn the truth about the candle light, And they decided one of them should go To gather news of the elusive glow. One flew till in the distance he discerned A palace window where a candle burned -- And went no nearer: back again he flew To tell the others what he thought he knew. The mentor of the moths dismissed his claim, Remarking: "He knows nothing of the flame." A moth more eager than the one before Set out and passed beyond the palace door. He hovered in the aura of the fire, A trembling blur of timorous desire, Then headed back to say how far he'd been, And how much he had undergone and seen. The mentor said: "You do not bear the signs Of one who's fathomed how the candle shines." Another moth flew out -- his dizzy flight Turned to an ardent wooing of the light; He dipped and soared, and in his frenzied trance Both self and fire were mingled by his dance -- The flame engulfed his wing-tips, body, head, His being glowed a fierce translucent red; And when the mentor saw that sudden blaze, The moth's form lost within the glowing rays, He said: "He knows, he knows the truth we seek, That hidden truth of which we cannot speak." To go beyond all knowledge is to find That comprehension which eludes the mind, And you can never gain the longed-for goal Until you first outsoar both flesh and soul; But should one part remain, a single hair Will drag you back and plunge you in despair -- No creature's self can be admitted here, Where all identity must disappear. [2178.jpg] -- from The Conference of the Birds, Translated by Afkham Darbandi / Translated by Dick Davis

~ Farid ud-Din Attar, The moths and the flame
,

53:The Conference Of The (Underemployed) Birds
"It shows the top half of the workforce enjoying permanent, well-paid, fulltime jobs,
while the bottom half can find only casual, poorly-paid, part-time work which, as
Labour
market economist Professor Sue Richardson warned this week, was creating a
class of
"excluded and dangerous" men with incomes to low to support a
family." - The Age, October 04, 2003.
"My discourse is sans words, sans tongue, sans sound: understand it then,
sans mind, sans ear."
- Farid Ud-Din Attar, The Conference of the Birds
(i)
A Willy-Wagtails' call intercepts the morning. Birds were real once, like jobs.
The modem's dial-up scream is cut short; why is our technology suffering so?
Fake, Australian accents in the call centre aviary: Calcutta nest robbers gloat.
A taxidermy of outsourced work: ditto, we're all stuffed on the global floor.
39
Bottom of the bird market. This new flu's crashed like tech stocks, Acme trap
For the Roadrunner managerial class, the coyote - disenfranchised American?
(ii)
Magpies don't attack in the open anymore, have you noticed: phenomena?
Phone tab's the way forward. Keep an eye on your receiver, not the skies.
There are new powers afoot for dealing with these full employment refos,
Our government issues wide-brimmed hats with strings of corks attached.
The contemporary job market has a thin eggshell; depleted proteins crack.
An excluded & dangerous class birthed? They backed job terrorism not us.
(iii)
I saw a hoopoe once. Was it Jaipur? Its crown of truth strutted on the lawn,
Painted a post-colonial green. What good is spiritual knowledge without law?
40
You will play an integral role in this dynamic environment by fudging your
Work history for sure. Service orientate your brain - lively, world class, lame.
Dangerous as ideas? There's a metal storm inside your head. Try Sufism?
Was it John Lennon or Steve McQueen who went on about "ism ism ism?
"
(iv)
There are nightingales here reputedly. Wasn't it someone from myth who
Couldn't stand being unemployed anymore & turned themselves into one?
Hit an epic glass ceiling probably. Better to be amorous than under-employed?
There's no new twist in the figures though. The virtual exclusion of women
From net growth in full-time job mythology is eons old. Sumerians started it.
Gilgamesh's entrapment of Enkidu needed a woman's art: ‘Wanted Harlot.'
(v)
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Australia has plenty of parrots, but cockatiels inhabit our universal currency
Of shame. See them locked up in Athens, Rome, Madrid, Delhi & Bangkok.
Feathered service economies, budgerigars tell beak fortunes in Iranian streets.
Collars of gold chained to human profit. Flocks flee drought & agricultural rut.
We even killed off one sub-species called ‘Paradise', cleared full-time underbrush.
& if they were flightless, then we paid out redundancies see: dodo, puffin & moa.
~ B. R. Dionysius,

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