The Tale of the Lion

There was a king who had a servant lovely as the moon; the king's very soul became his slave through devotion. At every turn, with the mallet of his purity, that loving boy carried off the prize on the field of good fortune. Before that king of noble repute, out of grace a hundred Ayazes had become his slaves. The king's heart was set on playing backgammon with him; in that contest he gambled away the piece of his heart. On the chessboard of that fortunate one, he fled before love and was checkmated by a single move. Though the polish of love kept growing at every moment, it wiped the rust of flaw from the heart. But against the decree of fate no scheme avails; God's command admits no change. Even with a hundred firm arrangements, when fate arrives it turns the page. Though nearness to the king holds many dangers, I do not know, perhaps this is fate's command upon the king. Yet do not boil over in your longing to be near kings; heed the secret of the verse 'do not cast yourselves to ruin.' The pen of God's destiny has written the dangers into the carpet of nearness to the king. Whatever had to be, its pen inscribed it; there is no changing a command once decreed. Pass beyond nearness to the false kings; for one moment take the path of nearness to God. The drunkenness of kingdom and rank in a wine sodden king, what does it bring but arrogance, pride, and conceit? A self serving, self worshiping monarch, drunk on the wine of lust and dominion. For this reason there is no reckoning in his conduct; one of his mouths is fire, the other water. At the height of nearness lies the danger of losing your head; beware of closeness to the sultan, beware. A borrowed kingship keeps no faith; it is a bathhouse towel, in the end stripped away. Indeed it is no more than a merely nominal thing, nothing but the fancies of an impossible dreamer. Why have you fixed your heart on this borrowed thing, settling firmly on matters that are only conventions? From an imaginary wine you have your drunkenness and hangover; you have bound your heart to the fancy of mere prestige. For one sip of its honey there are many stings; in the hangover of its wine lie countless anxieties. The thrill of its cup is gloom; the yield of its tavern is withering. Why are you joyful in this gloom? Why do you find delight in this withering? For God's sake, for God's sake, let go of these absurdities; your pomp and pageantry have no permanence. Your desire for this title of king is improper; this robe is far too grand for your frame. The One who has the power of creation and sustenance, to Him alone the majesty of sovereignty befits. This kingship belongs also to the saint within himself, for he is the manifestation of God's attributes. He is the master of the age, the imam and guide, the pole of existence and the sultan of mankind. Through his being a whole world stands; the world is but a dewdrop from the sea of his bounty. His life giving grace is the adornment of the world; the existence of all things stands upon him. Should he withdraw his gaze for a single instant, the world of possibility would be turned upside down. He is the final cause of all things; matter and form stand upright through him. Existence itself flows from that king's bounty; his grace embraces all that is other than God. A contingent being, wholly deficiency and flaw, finds no path to the unseen without such a link. Like a poor thirsty ant before the sea, how can it drink the water without the mediation of a drop? This is not delegation gone false, dear father; do not hold this ill thought against me. Cleanse the eye of your understanding; perceive the true form of what is meant. If God delegated the affair entirely, His essence would be rendered idle, my trusted one. To the wise this notion is not reasonable; God forbid, the hand of God is not chained. Rather, His two hands are open with giving; He spends however He wills, at every moment. The philosopher said: from a single Absolute nothing can issue but a single thing, without flaw. If he says this as a matter of wisdom, it is acceptable; but if it denies God's power, it is improper. Would a cause compel the essence of God? God forbid, the face of such a notion is black. The first emanation's existence is a link; not by independence but by mediation. I do not say creatorship belongs to that one; but I do say grace flows from him to all else. Why would I become a believer in delegation, O divided heart? Delegation, by the Almighty, is unbelief. The mystics who know the secret of creation, when do they ever ascribe such a thing to him? Whatever exists is from the Creator; he is the mediator, the link between servant and God. He is also the mirror of God's signs; without His decree no blade of grass springs up. Who is that guiding saint today? The promised Mahdi, the awaited imam. The absolute pole, the manifestation of God, the king of faith; the goal of belief and the destination of religion. The cause of bringing into being and the effect of existence; the living, the self subsisting, master of the unseen and the seen. That vicegerent of God who is the proof set over us; his very being is pure grace and mercy. The radiant pearl of the sea of glory, of the line of al Askari, the ocean of perfection. Of the imams he is the twelfth; for now he is a pearl hidden behind the veil of the unseen. In person he is today existing and alive; the banner of his triumph and victory will follow. His longing fills the heads of the love stricken; the clamor of him fills the hearts of the distraught. This royal sovereignty and splendor befit him, who from the perfection of his radiance has become hidden. He is absent, yet his radiance is fully manifest; he is far from us, yet his grace endures. Though today he is like the sun beneath a cloud, matters will be set right, but with patience. The inner graces come from him; the outer grace belongs to his deputy. His deputy is the manifestation of his signs; the showing forth of holy lights is his essence. Whoever has sought help from him has sought guidance on the path of God. Whoever has made obedience to him his way has obeyed the command of that king. That is, whoever turned his face from his command has blindly rushed toward hell. His command, beyond doubt, is the very command of God; to reject him verges on associating partners with the Almighty. Who is his deputy? The one who is freed from his own self, who shattered his own jug in that sea. When before his Origin he became selfless, his form departed and he became the manifestation of meaning. Not just anyone who, through trickery, deceit, and fraud, has spread his nets to hunt the people. Ceaselessly, with hypocrisy and soft speech, that shameless one leads the common folk astray. He comes forth through the gate of asceticism and pretense, so that this fable may put on a show. He renounces the world for the world's sake; he sets up nets of deceit. He makes a display with smooth and cunning words, so that by this trickery he may secure a buttered loaf. That base man is the ghoul of the road and the thief of religion, set on misleading people like Satan. He sets foot on the path of leading men astray, introducing forbidden things and false innovations. Hoping his shop will prosper by them, he becomes the companion of a handful of fools. For God's sake, for God's sake, beware of this lordship and leadership; alas for this raw lust to be the chief. Through this lordship many hands have been lost to the wind; rarely has anyone won free from its bond. Just now a tale has come to my mind; it would not be fair of me to pass it by. If you listen to this story with the ear of your soul, you will give up this raw craving to be the head. You will come from the body toward the city of the soul, and from the faith of the heart you will find love of your true homeland. So now make yourself ready for that tale; turn, full of sorrow, toward the care of the heart.