Lesson 5: The king brings the divine physician to the sickbed to see how she fares

When that gathering and the table of generosity were over, ˹the king˺ took his hand and led him into the private quarters.

He recounted the tale of the patient and the illness; after that he seated him beside the patient.

˹The divine physician˺ observed the colour of her face, her pulse and her urine; he heard both her symptoms and their causes.

He said, “Every remedy that they ˹the physicians˺ have applied is no restoration; they have brought ruin.”

“They were unaware of ˹her˺ inner state; I seek refuge in God from what they fabricate.”

He saw the suffering, and what was hidden was unveiled to him, but he concealed it and did not tell the king.

Her illness was not from yellow or black bile; the smell of every firewood appears from its smoke.

From her lamenting he saw that she was sick at heart; her body was well, and she was stricken in the heart.

Being in love is evident from the lamentation of the heart; there is no illness like the illness of the heart.

The lover’s ailment is set apart from all ˹other˺ ailments; Love is the astrolabe of the secrets of God.

Loverhood, whether from this side ˹or earthly˺ or from that side ˹or heavenly˺, in the end is our guide to that side.

Whatever explanation and exposition I give of Love, when I come to Love ˹itself˺ I am ashamed of it.

Though the commentary of the tongue makes ˹things˺ clear, tongueless Love is clearer.

While the pen was hastening in writing, as soon as it came to Love, the pen split upon itself.

In explaining it, reason lay down like a donkey in the mud; it was Love ˹itself˺ that gave the explanation of love and loverhood.

˹For instance,˺ the proof of the sun is the sun; if you need a proof, do not turn your face from it.

If the shadow gives a sign of it, the Sun every moment gives life-giving light.

The shadow, like a night-time tale, brings you sleep; when the Sun rises, “the moon was split ˹in two˺”.

There is nothing in the world so strange ˹and peerless˺ as the sun; the Sun of the soul is everlasting and has no yesterday.

Though the sun is unique in the outer world, still one can picture a likeness of it ˹in the mind˺.

˹But˺ the Sun of the soul, which transcends the ether, has no equal ˹or match˺, neither in the mind nor in the outer world.

Where is there room in the imagination for His essence, that a likeness of Him should enter the imagination?

When talk of the face ˹and essence˺ of Shams al-Din ˹Tabrizi˺ arrived, the sun of the fourth heaven ˹in shame˺ drew in its head.

Since his name has come up, it is necessary to set forth a hint of his bounties.

At this moment my soul has caught hold of my skirt ˹and implores˺; ˹for˺ it has caught the scent of Joseph’s shirt.

˹Husam al-Din said,˺ “For the sake of years of companionship, recount one of those delightful states.”

“So that earth and heaven may laugh, and intellect, soul and the eye ˹of the heart˺ may grow a hundredfold.”

˹I said,˺ “Do not put me to the task, for I am in annihilation ˹and selflessness˺; my understandings have grown dull, so I cannot count praise.”

“Everything said by one ˹drunk and˺ not sober, whether with strain or with boastful pretence, is unbecoming.”

“What can I say—not a single vein of mine is sober—in describing that Friend who has no friend ˹or peer˺?”

“Leave the description of this severance and this ˹drinking of˺ heart’s blood for now, until another time.”

He ˹Husam al-Din˺ said, “Feed me, for I am hungry, and make haste, for time is like a cutting sword ˹that cuts off life˺.”

“O friend! The Sufi is the child of the present moment; saying ‘tomorrow’ is not among the conditions of the path.”

“Are you not yourself a Sufi, then? On credit, what is ˹in hand˺ comes to nothing.”

I said to him ˹Husam al-Din˺, “The secret of the Beloved is better veiled; listen ˹for it˺ yourself within the folds of the tale.”

“It is better that the secret of the beloveds be told in the talk of others.”

He ˹Husam al-Din˺ said, “Tell this openly and nakedly; ˹for˺ talk of religion is better open than hidden.”

“Lift the veil and speak nakedly, for I do not sleep with the Beloved with a shirt on.”

I said, “If He were to become naked in plain sight, neither would you remain, nor would your embrace, nor would any distance ˹between you˺.”

“Desire what you will, but desire within measure; ˹for˺ a single blade of straw cannot bear a mountain.”

“The sun by which this world is lit: if it comes a little nearer, everything burns.”

“Do not seek trouble, turmoil and bloodshed; say no more of Shams Tabrizi.”

This ˹mystery˺ has no end; ˹so˺ speak of the beginning; go and recount this story to its end.