Money & Mortality

Several responses to my post on marital finances were to the effect that married couples need to be aware of each other's finances in order to be prepared for emergencies. It made me think of how whenever we have a family get-together - which doesn't happen as often as any of us would like these days - my parents would insist on sitting us down & updating my siblings & me, complete with documents, on where they stand financially & what each of us would be entitled to get in the event of their death. They'd feel compelled to explain & justify each decision they had made & plead for our understanding. Decisions like why the younger siblings are entitled to more because they're still students, why the girls need more economic security than the boys etc....And I remember how awkward it would be, how embarrassed we'd all get, how my sister & I would start crying because we can't stand the thought that one day our parents might not be around. And how my parents would then start telling us we should never fight over money after they're gone, that instead we should always stick together etc... And then my older brothers would say that of course they will always take care of us girls. And I would say the same to reassure my parents. I mean, of course I'd take care of my little brother & sister if they needed it. How likely is it that I tell my 16-yr-old sister - unpleasant though she might be - to go out & earn her own living? Do these things really need to be reiterated ritually & periodically?

God, I hate those conversations.

I never read the documents. Never felt up to it. I'd just stuff them in a drawer & keep them sealed until the next meeting & the next set of 'updated' documents when we'd be told to destroy the old ones because they're now worthless. I wouldn't do that either. I'd have to touch them to destroy them and I don't want to. Much easier to just shove them all somewhere out of sight & not think about them.

When I tried to think of handling my husband's finances in the event of his death or disability, the first reflex was I don't care. If I can't have him then I don't want his money. You see, I don't have any sense of entitlement to my husband's money. If I had to borrow money from him, it would feel just as awkward as if I was borrowing it from a friend. The fear of imposing would be the same. Even more so actually because while a friend would let me pay it back, my husband never would. When he tries to give me money, I feel just as insulted as if a total stranger was trying to give me charity or something.

I didn't feel any richer when I got married. Financially, I still felt I was on my own. So I never really gave much thought to what he does or does not have. If he gives me something, it's a gift. It means he loves me. It would mean a lot less if I thought he was giving it to me because it was my legal entitlement by that piece of paper he signed with my father.

A long time ago, a friend of mine was once talking about everything she was entitled to get from her ex-husband that she isn't getting & how she was suing him for alimony even though they had no children & the logic of it just went straight over my head. I mean, if I break up with a boyfriend, would I say to him:"Ok, now you owe me X dirhams for the two years we dated"? To me, marriage is just a formality, a piece of paper that makes it possible for me to be with the man I love without having to upset my parents or deal with any culture/religion-related issues. If I was born in a different culture with a different set of religious beliefs, I don't think I'd have ever married or felt compelled to declare our love for society's approval. I'd just live with him.

It's different with my parents. I've always known that my parents have worked all their lives to give us a good standard of living & that virtually every cent they ever made was made with us in mind. They brought us into the world & they feel very strongly that our well-being is their responsibility. That makes sense to me. I would feel the same about my children.

With my husband, am not his daughter, am his wife. We're partners, we're equals so am not about to charge him for being his wife. I'd only agree to share our finances if it was done with the understanding that we are equals, if he would feel as entitled to my money as he wants me to feel to his. Otherwise, I prefer to keep our finances seperate. I want no part of a partnership where I am the junior partner. Blame it on my horoscope. I am a typical Libra - the sign of the Scale. I like everything properly scaled & balanced.

And yet my mother has convinced me that in the event of an emergency (not a fatal one), I might need to know about his assets so I can use them to help him or just to keep them safe for him. That I had to accept.

I decided to start with myself. For the last hour or so, I have been writing down details of my own financies, trying to figure out what he would need to know about my finances if I were to suddenly drop dead or comatose? And having all sorts of questions about how to be fair.

There's my gratuity. My parents are named as the next-of-kin beneficiaries in the event of my disappearance from the scene. It's in my work contract that I have to tell them who to give my end-of-service benefits to if I die. Should I tell him about that? But before I tell him, shouldn't I make him a beneficiary also?

There's an apartment & some pieces of land that my parents have bought me in Casa. If I die, should they go back to my parents - and my siblings after them - or go to my husband? Who is more entitled? How do you choose between your family & your husband?

The apartment is currently leased. The rent money is deposited in my account back home. Ok, he should know about that account. My parents already know about it since my father opened it for me but my husband should know too. That's pretty straight-forward.

And then there are my savings - which are invested in a portfolio of bonds & stocks with the same investment firm that my father uses. Again, my parents are named as the beneficiaries & the next-of-kin on that. I guess I should add him to the list & make him aware of it.

Loans? I just have my credit cards. But these will be automatically deducted from my gratuity because banks here will only issue you a credit card if you bring a letter from your employer to that effect. And besides, I rarely use them anyway. And when I do, I make sure I repay them within the 40-day grace period so that I don't have to pay interest. That was something my parents taught us because they believe interest is haram. Haven't got anymore loans. I had a loan but it's finished now. And I finished paying for my old car two years ago.

Do I owe anyone money? Well I owe my brother some money because last time he was here, I happened to be out of cash & couldn't get to an ATM so he loaned me some cash. But it's not very much & anyway he refused to let me pay him back & I doubt that if I died he'd let my husband pay him back. It's better to keep silent about that sort of thing.

Does anyone owe me money? Quite a few people. But do I want my husband chasing after them after I am gone? Not really. Some of them I trust to bring it back when they can without being asked. The others I know can't afford to pay me back & I only gave them the money in the first place because they're close & I had to help but I called it a loan so they wouldn't feel bad about it. So this he doesn't need to know either.

It's more involved than I thought. I hope HIS finances are less complicated.

Hell Hath No Fury

than a woman scorned? Maybe but what I question is why no mention of a woman whose son you scorned? Because that particular brand is no less scary.

Last time I checked, turning down a marriage proposal was not in violation of any treaty.

This particular story is fairly old. A few years back, I was in Dubai for training and a Belgian friend invited me to dinner to meet her fiance, a Moroccan. During the course of the evening, we discovered that he was from Casa., my hometown & our families back home were connected through several intermarriages - which is not uncommon among North African Arabs. They tend to approach marriage like that sometimes. We married into that family & we had no problems so let's do it again. Or sometimes it's even done out of a sense of obligation - one of their men took one woman off our hands so now that one of our men has reached marriageable age, let's return the favor. Needless to say, it's all very bizzare to me.

Anyway, the evening went quite well, I thought. And then I went back to Abu Dhabi & forgot all about it. Then my friend calls me up & explains that the company her fiance works for is looking for an IT solution provider & can he meet me & talk about it? I said sure. If true, it would have been the first time I manage to bring a new client to my company. I was still a fairly new employee & felt called upon to prove my usefulness all the time.

But he didn't want to talk to me about business at all. It was just an excuse. Instead, he started explaining how he'd been having second thoughts about marrying a foreigner because Western girls were all too wild & easy - especially now that he'd met me & noticed the difference between me & my friend(from one meeting) & felt I would understand his culture more than her. And also my friend had apparently refused to convert to Islam & he had concerns about the mother of his future children not being Muslim. But that he'd asked around about me & it was confirmed that am from a good, Morrocan Arab family but at the same time, I was educated & cultured & best of all, I had the looks of a European girl since all the Morrocan girls he'd met before were too dark-skinned for his taste. He said I was even fairer than my friend. So I was perfect & he'd already told his parents who were now in the process of approaching my parents so we can all get to know each other etc....

I was FURIOUS. The initial reaction was being upset for my friend, who was very much in love with him. I started angrily defending her. My friend may not have been very religious but she was not a slut. She was actually very reserved in character & she'd often tell ME off for flirting, being too wild etc.....She is quite shy and didn't date much. It was infuriating to me that anyone would call her either wild or easy just because of her nationality. I remembered her once telling me that he was pressuring her for sex, & if I thought she should do it. And I had explained - at the time - that if he was a typical Arab, then sleeping with him wasn't a good idea if you wanted something long-term with him but it was hard for me to tell without actually meeting the guy. After having met him, I found myself wishing fervently that she'd had too much sense to have sex with a man who clearly respected her so little. He didn't deserve her.

That was the initial reaction. The second action was fury at his presuming that I would stab my friend in the back that way or settle for someone who only wanted me because of my family name & skin color - especially when that same person has revealed himself to be so prejudiced & bigoted in every sense of either word.

All in all, it was not a good evening. I remember walking out on him after having told him what I thought of him in no uncertain terms while he gaped uncomprehendingly. For some reason, my reaction was totally unexpected for him. He thought I'd jump at the chance. And that made me even more angry. People who have these blindspots make me CRAZY. I can't believe there are people who are so wrong but simply cannot see it & actually think they're right.

Once I was a little calmer, I called my friend & told her. I wanted her to dump him before he had a chance to dump her. She was devastated. But she did chuck him. Thank God.

And I thought that was the end of the story. It wasn't. His mother called me a few days later. Apparently he'd interpreted my reaction to mean that being a good, Arab Muslim girl, I just needed to have it confirmed to me that his intentions were honorable to accept him. His mother didn't say anything about marriage. She just went on about how good it always was to meet other 'pure' Moroccan Arabs when living abroad & how much she'd like to get to know my parents etc....I wanted to SCREAM but I had to be polite to his mother who was an older woman. Years of being taught to respect my elders proved to be too inhibiting. When she asked for my mother's number so she could meet her, I couldn't say no.

So she takes the number, calls my mother to say hello & sets up an appointment for them to come over to our house. Then she calls me back & says oh your mother is Berber? You didn't tell me. I'd forgotten that for some Moroccan Arabs, who view themselves as 'ashraf'(descended from the Prophet), Berbers were a lower-life form. I told her very sweetly that yes, Mama was an Algerian Berber, knowing I was making things worse. From the pov of people like her, Morrocan Berbers were low but all Algerians were considerably lower. And Algerian Berber was the lowest of the low. At that point, I just wanted to be rid of this family which appeared to be so full of every, concieveable prejudice. I thought if my mother's ethnicity will drive her away, then well & good.

But the woman coolly replied that oh well, it's ok because what's important is that the father's blood was 'pure'. Upon which I instantly added that my father was actually half-European, that my grandmother was a Frenchwoman.

She sighed and responded that again it was ok because the lineage was pure as long as no non-Arab MEN entered it, that impure, female blood was inconsequential. I got the feeling that she was desperate. She wasn't happy with my set-up but she thought I was far prefereable to the European, non-Muslim woman her son was involved with. It was so sickening to be patronized & patted on the head & told not to feel bad about being a hybrid in that way.

I remember going home & telling my father, playing up the insults against Mama as much as I could. In addition to the fact that I'd actually met the guy as a friend's fiance.I didn't want my parents to start hounding me about marrying him. They also had a tendency to see it as an opportunity whenever I met an educated, Morrocan boy from a good family while living abroad. But I knew my father would never tolerate any disrespect to my mother.

And it worked. I managed to cut that story much shorter than it could otherwise have turned out to be.

Except a few months later, the same guy proposed to my cousin. I could see why. My cousin didn't have a Berber mother. She was much purer than me. She was also younger than me & much, much younger than the guy. So her parents refused him on the grounds that she was too young to get married.

And his mother decided that the first refusal was an insult. The second was a declaration of war. She started a family feud against me & my cousin. Gossiping, starting rumors, abusing either one of us whenever she runs into us in public.

For years, everytime I'd meet her at social events(usually weddings), she'd ask me snidely if there was anything on the way - meaning an engagement or a marriage, that she wanted to 'tifra7 feeni'(congratulate me). She'd make unpleasant - although perfectly polite - comments about my clothes, the way I danced, the way I ate & subtly suggest maybe these could be reasons - in addition to my polluted blood - for my spinster status. All in this cloying, laughing manner that women have. She never failed to hug & kiss me when we met. Or to inject the words 'ya binti'(my daughter) or 'habibti' & other terms of affection an older woman would use to a younger one who was like a daughter to her. As I got older, I lived in dread of her. There's no end to the humiliations a woman her age could inflict on you. And you could never be rude to her because then you'd be demonstrating a deficient upbringing & humiliating yourself & your parents more.

My mother could respond to her & usually handled her beautifully. But she was rarely nasty to me infront of my mother. She would wait to catch me alone.

Last night, we met at a wedding. When I saw her, I unconsciously found myself edging closer to my husband. Then I told myself I was being stupid. I was a grown woman, I had no business to be hiding behind him. Or to be scared of her. But I was. Afraid of her. She hates me so much. To hold a grudge and be so spiteful for all these years. It's scary. What does she WANT? I mean, her son is already married. Has been for some years. I heard that in the end, he went home to Casa & had an arranged marriage there & was now living with his wife in Dubai.

I stayed close to my husband all evening. And she still made sure I caught a comment she whispered to another woman while we were standing by the buffet. Something about silly girls having to settle for foreigners because they're getting old & can no longer get good Morrocan boys to look at them.

Divorce

So my brother and his wife are getting a divorce. Effectively they're already divorced. No longer living together. It's just the legal process in France will take months.

Their daughter is not even one yet.

He's in town and I could tell from the moment I set eyes on him that something was seriously wrong. But he only told me today. He said that she is leaving him. He didn't say why. When I asked him how long ago, he said 2 months.

My brother is leaving tomorrow. And I don't know what to do. I feel bad because I'm doing nothing but I really don't know what to say or do.

He just sits there not saying anything and not responding to anything.

And he wouldn't come and stay with us. Last night I stayed with him at his hotel room and we just watched movies. And ate a lot. He took me home at 6:00am so I could change for work. And I walked into the house, collapsed on the couch and just cried, nearly scared my husband to death.

Today we had lunch and he sat there for 2 hours without saying a word. I kept trying to start a conversation and in the end I gave up.

I can't let him leave like this. He's here on business and says he has to get back to work but it's so clear that he's no condition to be working. I want him to stay but I don't know how to make him. And if he did stay I don't know what to do for him.

Part of me is really pissed off at him though. My brother never asked anyone's advice. He told other people especially me what to do but he didn't like answering questions about his stuff. When he decided to get married, it was a surprise to all of us. We didn't even know there was someone in his life. He never talked about her. We found out a month before the wedding took place. When his daughter was born, we got an overseas call in the middle of the night. We didn't even know his wife was pregnant.And now he gets divorced and we find out 2 months later.

I mean, what does he expect me to do?What right does he have to just dump this on me like this after years of never admitting that he could be human or have problems?I don't even know how to talk to him when he's like this because I've never seen him like this.

I keep wanting to call my mother and tell her. She'd know what to do. But he doesn't want my parents to know yet. What is he waiting for? I don't know. Should I feel privileged to know?Well I don't.

God I haven't even told my husband yet and he's worried sick. Out of respect for my brother's privacy, I haven't told anyone.

He keeps telling me to just forget it, that he'll be fine. I think he's sorry he told me.

Dedication

To my little brother who is 20 today.

I forgot his birthday this year. He just called me & said today is my birthday am waiting for your best wishes & hung up. When I called back to ask why he hung up he said that it's his birthday & he deserves that I should call him.

He does. And more. Just for thinking of me in the middle of what sounded like the birthday bash of the year. Well not just for that. He deserves it for being a not bad little brother all year round.

And because I miss him. And because I haven't been answering his emails. It was great talking to him.

Note to self: I will keep in touch with him.

The Opening

"The 'opening' (fath) is the sudden revealing of Divine Reality and thus the end of the illusion. It's like a ball of snow which one throws in the ocean. The ball of snow is the ego (nafs) and the ocean is the Divine Reality. The ball of snow is nothing but frozen water. Once thrown in the ocean, it becomes again liquid. Ego has only a transitory and illusory existence if one considers it in itself, cut of its origin. In the same way as the ball of snow, if one relies on its present state, with its actual consistency, it seems different from water; it appears to be of an original nature. Actually, it is nothing but water, a drop similar to all the other drops of the ocean. There is only one water and various states of this same water."

Shaykh Sidi Hamza al Qadiri al Boutshishi

Ten Quotations To A Happier Life

1) Cry a river; build a bridge; get over it.
2) Everything happens in its own time.
3) All glory comes from daring to begin.
4) Laughter is the best medicine.
5) Happiness is journey; not a destination.
6) Do today what others won't; so you can live tomorrow like others can't.
7) It is never too late to be what you might have become.
8) Treasure the love you receive; it will survive long after your gold and good health have vanished.
9) The journey of a thousand miles starts with a step.
10) Always have something to do, something to love and something to hope for.

Disclaimer: I didn't write this. Am not that wise.:) Source is Unknown. I received it as an email forward from someone who received it from someone else etc... Can't be bothered to trace it all the way back. Who knows how long it's been circulating around the net right?

Comment: Some of them are a bit too corny for me but I like & believe 1, 5 & 10.

Words

Rainbows apologize for angry skies.

A Tree Knelt In Praise

I know that I shall never see
A poem that bows quite like our tree
A tree who like us loved to pray
In adoration every day

A tree who humbly knelt in praise
To God and never chose to raise
Itself above the other trees
Instead remained as if on knees

A tree who gave our scholars shade
And never asked that it be paid
A tree whose needles never hurt
But gently fell upon the dirt

A tree whose worth cannot be told
Or ever lent or bought with gold
A tree who showed us all its height
With God by bowing with delight

It taught us all to clearly see
A Garden lies beneath a tree
And then it showed us with a sigh
That trees, like us, must also die

In an age of folly, play and mirth
A tree has died with brow on earth

-Hamza Yusuf / March 2005

So I guess I'm Happy Then

"Happiness is the longing for repetition."

Milan Kundera

Words

يا ليل مالك آخر يرجي ولا للشوق آخر
لي فى الغرام سريرة والله أعلم بالسرائر
طرفي وطرف النجم فيك كلاهما ساه وساهر
لي فيك اجر مجاهد لو صح أن الليل كافر

Words

You think you own whatever land you land on.
The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim.
But I know every rock and tree and creature,
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name.

You think the only people who are people,
Are the people who look and think like you.
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger,
You'll learn things you never knew you never knew.

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon?
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest.
Come taste the sunsweet berries of the Earth.
Come roll in all the riches all around you.
And for once, never wonder what they're worth.

The rainstorm and the river are my brothers.
The heron and the otter are my friends.
And we are all connected to each other,
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends.

How high will the sycamore grow?
If you cut it down, then you'll never know.
And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon.

For whether we are white or copper skinned,
We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains.
We need to paint with all the colors of the wind.

You can own the Earth and still,
All you'll own is earth until,
You can paint with all the colors of the wind.

Vocal: Pocahontas (Judy Kuhn) Music: Alan Menken Lyrics: Stephen Schwartz From Disney's Motion Picture "Pocahontas"

How Is It Different From a Normal Love Song?

******************************************************************************

The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question...
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions
And for a hundred visions and revisions
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair---
[They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin---
[They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all;
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all---
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all---
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?

Shall I say,
I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?...
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.. . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep...tired...or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald]
brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet --- and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say, "That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all."

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor
And this, and so much more?
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,That is not what I meant, at all."

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or to
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous---
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old...I grow old...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Til human voices wake us, and we drown.

-- T. S. Eliot

The Road Not Taken By Robert Frost

*************************************************************

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both,
And being one traveler, long I stood,
And looked down one as far as I could,
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood,
and I-I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


*************************************************************

Taking a Riddle into the Tavern

For many years my heart wanted
something for me,
not knowing that it was itself
what it wanted:

the desire for Jamshid's cup,
wherein all existence can be seen,
except for that chalice itself, that is.

There was a man beloved of God
who cried out to God, "Why
have you forsaken me?"

I took the riddle of this into a tavern
and asked the one who served.

He said, "Some secrets must be kept,
not told to the world at large.
The rosebud and the soul write mysteries
on their margins fold within fold.
Stay closed and wait."

"Your wine glass is the all-revealing cup!"

"Given before the creation."

"And what of that woman there
that I cannot forget?"

"Hafez," said the tavernmaster, "this love
within you that speaks needs
some restraint!"

Halves of the Whole

God instills the desire of every part for the other:
from their union, generation results.
And so night and day are in mutual embrace:
they appear to be opposites, even enemies,
but the truth they attend is one,
each desiring the other like kin,
for the perfection of their work.
Both serve one purpose, for without night,
human nature would receive no income:
what then could day expend?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mayl-e har jozvi beh-jozvi ham nehad
ze ettehâd-e har do tawlidi zehad
Shab chonin bâ ruz andar e`tenâq
mokhtalef dar surat ammâ ettefâq
Ruz o shab zâher do zedd o doshmanand
lik har do yek haqiqat mi tanand
Har yeki khvânân degar-râ hamcho khvish
az pay-e takmil-e fe`l o kâr-e khvish
Zânke bi shab dakhl na-bovad tab`-râ
pas cheh andar kharj ârad ruz-hâ

Mathnawi III:4416-4420
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra)

The Fool's Errand

What wisdom was this, that the Object of all desire
caused me to leave my home joyously on a fool's errand,
so that I was actually rushing to lose the way
and at each moment being taken farther from what I sought--
and then God in His beneficence made that very wandering
the means of my reaching the right road and finding wealth!
He makes losing the way a way to true faith;
He makes going astray a field for the harvest of righteousness,
so that no righteous one may be without fear
and no traitor may be without hope.
The Gracious One has put the antidote in the poison
so that they may say He is the Lord of hidden grace.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In cheh hekmat bud keh Qebleh-ye morâd
kardam az khâneh berun gomrâh o shâd
Tâ shetâbân dar zalâlat mi shodam
har dam az matlab jodâ-tar mi bodam
Bâz ân `ayn-e zalâlat-râ beh-jud
Haqq vasilat kard andar roshd o sud
Gomrahi-râ manhaj-e imân konad
kazh ruy-râ mahsad-e ehsân konad
Tâ na-bâshad hich mohsen bi vajâ
tâ na-bâshad hich khâyen bi rajâ
Andarun-e zahr teryâq ân Hafi
kard tâ guyand Zu al-Lotf al-Khafi

Mathnawi VI: 4339-4344
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra)

Let your senses feed on His pasture

When one sheep of the flock jumps over a stream,
they all jump across on each other's heels.
Drive the sheep, your senses, to pasture:
Let them feed on the pasture shown by
"He who has brought forth the herbage,"*
that they may graze on hyacinth and wildrose;
and be led to the green meadows of the Realities;
that every one of your senses
may become a prophet to the others,
and lead all senses into Paradise.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chon ze ju jast az galeh yek gusfand
pas payâpay jomleh zân su barjahand
Gusfandân havâsset-râ be-rân
dar cherâ az "akhraja al-mar`â"* charân
Tâ dar ânjâ sonbol o nasrin charand
tâ be-rawzât-e Haqâyeq rah be-rand
Har hesset payghambar-e hess-hâ shavad
jomleh hess-hâ-râ dar ân Jannat kashad

Mathnawi II: 3242-3245
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra
*al-A`lâ, 4

Someone Should Start Laughing

I have a thousand brilliant lies

For the question:



How are you?



I have a thousand brilliant lies

For the question:



What is God?



If you think that the Truth can be known

From words,



If you think that the Sun and the Ocean



Can pass through that tiny opening

Called the mouth,



O someone should start laughing!



Someone should start wildly Laughing –

Now!



From: “I Heard God Laughing: Renderings of Hafiz: by Daniel Ladinsky.