Seven – 10/7/15
Mawlana Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī
Slave of the Moon
I’m the slave of the Moon; talk of nothing but moon.
Or brightness and sweetness. Other than that, say nothing.
Don’t tell of suffering, talk of nothing but blessings.
If you know nothing about them, no matter. Say nothing.
Last night I went wild. Love saw me and said:
I’m here. Don’t shout, don’t rip your shirt, say nothing.
I said: O Love, what I fear is something else.
Love said: There’s nothing there. Say nothing.
I’ll whisper secret words in your ears. Just nod yes.
Except for that nod of your head, say nothing.
A moon pure as spirit rose on the heart’s pathway.
What a joy, to travel the way of the heart. Say nothing.
I said: O Heart, what is this moon? Heart beckoned:
For now, it’s not for you to know. Say nothing.
I said: Is this face angel or human?
Neither angel nor human. It is other, say nothing.
I said: What’s this? I’ll lose my mind if you don’t tell me.
It said: Then lose your mind, and stay that way. Say nothing.
You who sit in this house filled with images and illusions,
get up, walk out the door. Go, and say nothing.
I said: O Heart, tell me kindly: Isn’t this about God?
It said: Yes it is, but kindly say nothing.