English
The Tale of Jalal al-Din Husayn
In Gilan there was a lord's son, a good man, fortunate, and free.
He cleansed the land of evil and disgrace; his name and title: Jalal al-Din Husayn.
He was a king full of devotion, a seeker of dervishes and scholars.
He was as humble as the road beneath the pure-hearted Sufis' feet; his throne stood in Astara.
A band of suspicious men lived in dread and fear, in constant terror of his crushing wrath.
Each one was drunk on the wish to shed the king's blood, waiting to find the helpless man off guard.
Suddenly their chance arrived; the unwary king was killed at their hands.
The young king held many hopes, and in those hopes he ignored his malicious enemy.
That poor king's hopes went into the grave with him; he died cut off from all he desired.
He meant to take the whole of Gilan, but death seized him by the collar without warning.
The king was murdered at his enemies' hands, and dismissed from everything he wished.
That wronged and helpless king kept girding himself with effort, hoping perhaps
to win everything from Lahijan to Shahjan; then suddenly they took the very life from the king.
You, prisoner of empty hope, how long like this? Get up and saddle the horse of striving.
Fashion your gear and supplies out of piety and restraint, and launch a raid, a sudden charge, upon your own ego.
Wrest back, O renowned one, like a true man, the whole kingdom of the soul from the ego's grip.
You are careless while the enemy lies in ambush; look at what happened to the king of Astara.
You are drunk on your own desires, alas, while your commanding ego swings its blade at your neck.
The corrupt, commanding ego is the soul's enemy, and you, heedless one, share your very shirt with it.
In the end, you poor, bewildered creature, why let a demon rule over you?
If you overcome it, you are a true man; if it takes you captive, you are no man at all.
How long will you burden your heart and soul? How long will you feed and strengthen your enemy?
Strip the eagle of the ego of its strength, so it cannot overpower the royal falcon of the soul.
Its strength is gluttony, greed, arrogance, and spite, along with the other traits I named before.
If these wrong traits come from the ego, hold them back and turn its rage away.
When the bad traits are parted from it, by God's grace the soul finds peace.
It surely becomes worthy of the gardens of union, fit to hold the secrets of the Lord of the worlds.
It takes on the qualities of perfection, drawing abundance from the light of divine majesty.
Once passage beyond earth and water is granted, the blessed call comes from the Truth.
Know your own self and become a man of action; in the search, keep turning restlessly like a compass.
How long the sleep of neglect? Wake up. For once, go searching for the Beloved.
Rise and pour dust on your head from grief and pain, for why are you so far from that pure Beloved?
Whoever dies far from such a Beloved was born blind, lived blind, and died blind.
The pain of longing for Him is the joy of the world; His pale-cheeked lover is forever honored.
His pain is the key to the doors of the heart; whoever bears the brand of that pain is fortunate.
The pain of His love is the lot of the lucky; it is the great elixir for the copper of the soul.
His pain is the cure for those who yearn; whoever holds this pain longs for Him.
Why stay far from the Beloved in your heedlessness? Your heedlessness stirs my jealous zeal.