Mathnavi or Mathnavi-e Maanavi

Mathnavi or Mathnavi-e Maanavi is the best known work of Rumi consisting of 24,660 couplets in seven books. Rumi himself defined his work as a work of destruction, destruction of the worldly for the sake of embracing the Divine. He warns the reader in advance to be prepared to let go of everything:

Every venture one's life may replete
Mathnavi's purpose is the Great Defeat.
Set afire, burning with cleansing heat,
On the anvil, egos ply and beat.
This book, if you open, read, entreat
Your life, a mendicant's, in the street.

    The Reed Flute

Pay heed to the grievances of the reed
Of what divisive separations breed
From the reedbed cut away just like a weed
My music people curse, warn and heed
Sliced to pieces my bosom and heart bleed
While I tell this tale of desire and need.
Whoever who fell away from the source
Will seek and toil until returned to course
Of grievances I sang to every crowd
Befriended both the humble and the proud
Each formed conjecture in their own mind
As though to my secrets they were blind
My secrets are buried within my grief
Yet to the eye and ear, that’s no relief
Body and soul both unveiled in trust
Yet sight of soul for body is not a must.
The flowing air in this reed is fire
Extinct, if with passion won’t inspire
Fire of love is set upon the reed
Passion of love this wine will gladly feed
Reed is match for he who love denied
Our secrets unveiled, betrayed, defied.
Who has borne deadly opium like the reed?
Or lovingly to betterment guide and lead?
Of the bloody path, will tell many a tale
Of Lover’s love, even beyond the veil.
None but the fool can hold wisdom dear
Who will care for the tongue if not ear?
In this pain, of passing days we lost track
Each day carried the pain upon its back
If days pass, let them go without fear
You remain, near, clear, and so dear.
Only the fish will unquenchingly thirst,
Surely passing of time, the hungry curst.
State of the cooked is beyond the raw
The wise in silence gladly withdraw.
Cut the chain my son, and release the pain
Silver rope and golden thread, must refrain
If you try to fit the ocean in a jug
How small will be your drinking mug?
Never filled, ambitious boy, greedy girl,
Only if satisfied, oyster makes pearl.
Whoever lovingly lost shirt on his back
Was cleansed from greed and wanton attack
Rejoice in our love, which would trade
Ailments, of every shade and every grade
With the elixir of self-knowing, chaste
With Hippocratic and Galenic taste.
Body of dust from love ascends to the skies
The dancing mountain thus begins to rise
It was the love of the Soul of Mount Sinai
Drunken mountain, thundering at Moses, nigh.
If coupled with those lips that blow my reed
Like the reed in making music I succeed;
Whoever away from those lips himself found
Lost his music though made many a sound.
When the flower has withered, faded away
The canary in praise has nothing to say.
All is the beloved, the lover is the veil
Alive is the beloved, the lover in death wail
Fearless love will courageously dare
Like a bird that’s in flight without a care
How can I be aware, see what’s around,
If there is no showing light or telling sound?
Seek the love that cannot be confined
Reflection in the mirror is object defined.
Do you know why the mirror never lies?
Because keeping a clean face is its prize.
Friends, listen to the tale of this reed
For it is the story of our life, indeed!

Ó Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
April 27, 1998

           Interpreting the teacher's couplet...            

In the land of the Soul, endless skies
Lord of the earth and skies, kind and wise
Ups and downs of the path, pain and ease
Climbing mountains high, sailing wide seas.

In the unseen, rain and cloud of different kind
Different sun and sky confound the mind
None is seen, save by the chosen few
Others in awe of the Creator’s view.
Rain’s purpose is to help plants to grow
Rain’s purpose is to help decay’s flow.
Growth and life spring from the spring rain
Autumn rain will only bring decay and pain;
The spring nurture the seed, water and feed
In the fall, feverish, yellow, tree and weed.
And so is cold and the wind, even the sun
Though different, from one source are all spun;
So it is, different, varied, in the unseen
Profit, loss, gainful, baneful, wise and green.
This is the eternal breath of the spring
In the heart and soul, green fields will bring;
What the spring shower does for the tree
Breath of life brings to the soul, fortunate, free.
If in place you find a tree of dry fame
Know that life-giving wind is not to blame
Wind fulfilled its purpose and blew
He who had soul, his own soul slew.

Ó Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
January 25, 1999

      Stealing a snake from a snake-catcher

Once a thief from a catcher, a snake stole
His prize, with ignorance, praise, and extol.
The catcher was thus relieved from its bite
Killed the thief, the killer snake, with fright.
The catcher came upon that familiar sight
Said, "my snake with life, has made this right.
I prayed for life, for my own sake
And what I found was none but snake.
Praise that my prayer was nullified
Gainful was the loss I identified.
We pray many times for loss and demise
With grace won’t hear Infinite Wise."

Ó Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
August 8, 1998