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THE LIBRARY
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OF CALIFORNIA
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^clectioufi from ihc ^\'m S^i;;uifiUiiiou
OF A
GUJARATI POEM
"Written in tlie year 1863
BY A. PARSEE POET NAMED
MUNCHERJEE CAWASJEE. S. L., alias
" :mu]ntsookh."
AUTHOR OF
GUXZ-NAMEH, HAYVALAI ZEND AVASTA, JUMSIIIDE NOWROOJ, — PKINCE
ALBERT, BAIT RITTEE, DISCUSSION OX THE PARSEE LAWS, SIR
JUIISHIDJEE iSAKOXET, — TRANSLATIOX OF COUNT GOBIXEAU's
METHOD OF READING CUNEIFORM TEXTS, MOONTAKHEBA
SHAH NAJIEH, — SHARE AND SUTTABAJI, — AND
NAM-SATAYESHNE,
-oo\^l^Oo-
The Translation by W. H. HAMILTOl^,
TUTOK TO SONS OF SIR J. JEJEEDIIOY, BAUT.
o^dioo-
Puhlished at the Bombay Education Society's Press,
January IS/O.
Price Rs. Two.
EOMBAY :
PEINTED AT THE EDUCATION SOCIETV's PnESf5, BVCt'LLA.
PR
PREFACE-
The Translation, from wliicli tlie following"
Selections are taken, was finished in November
1864; and was that to which a prize, offered in
April of that year, for the best translation of the
whole of Munsookh's Gujarati Poem on Prince
Albert, was awarded. The original poem is
a very long one ; and its translation is probably
twice or thrice as long as the whole of these
Selections. For a variety of reasons, which need
not here be enumerated, the publication of the
translation was delayed ; and even now it has
been thought better to publish, at first, these
Selections only, rather than, at once, the whole
Translation.
The original poem has been largely read by
the Gujarati-speaking portion of the Native
community of this Presidency ; and it has been
thought that the presentation in English dress,
to English readers, of Native ideas regarding
several European institutions, such as are treated
of in the poem, will be neither uninteresting nor
unprofitable.
With regard to the Translation, it may be
remarked that the aim of the translator was,
P41847
IV
above all tilings, to give a irne translation. He
did not seek to alter anything, or make use of
language any where which should convey a
meaning differing by even a shade from what he
conceived to be the meaning of the author. Of
course he does not presume to think that he
always succeeded in rendering the exact thoughts
of the author into English : ifc was, however, his
constant effort to do so.
The style of the Translation is, in mostj^laces,
ordinary prose ; and in others a kind of rhythmical
prose, supposed by the translator to be not
altogether unlike the style of the Poetical Books
in the English Bible, and of the well-knov/n
poems of Ossian. It is only Songs and Hymns,
in the original poem, which have been rendered
in this style,
Selections from the Translation, such as it is,
are now for the first time submitted to the
public,
W. H. HAMILTON.
Bombay, 1st January 1870.
SELECTIONS
FROM
THE TRANSLATION OF A POEM ON
MlS: gamie ^f ftj^lr.
In the name of GOD, tlie Great and tlie An-
cient, who is wiser tlian tlie wisest, wlio in liis
essence is merciful. In the name of God, the
light of holiness, who maketh the bright day
and the dark night. In the name of God, whose
being is infinite, before whom the heavens are,
as it were, but a pinch of dust ; who brouglit
existence out of non-existence, and made innu-
merable happy worlds to revolve ; from whose
dominion nothing is exempted ; by whose pro-
vidential care none is neglected. I will remem-
ber liim here in the beginning of my work ; for
every beginning made with His remonibrnnce
1 A
9
is blessed. By Him tlie ground of the heart is
iUuniiiiated ; He bloweth upon it the pure air of
love ; He poureth upon it the living water of know-
ledge. By Him a pen is made fruitful as a branch,
a book resplendent as a beautiful garden, and
words to bloom as odoriferous roses. With that
remembrance alone will I fill the cup of my
heart, and will sing new and entertaining stories.
Svo^
p
HAPTER I.
oM»io
On the birth of Prince Albert, his education, and arrival at
mature years ; and his wish to marry Victoria.
There is a country of the world called Ger-
many, the eminence of which is known every-
where. In its interior is a large district, called
the Dukedom of Gotha, about 37 miles in area,*
and containing about one hundred and fifty
thousand inhabitants. Tlie air of this district is
pleasant, dry, and cool ; and the water refreshing
and pure. The land is good, and very fertile,
and every article of food and clothing is cheap
there. In its neighbourhood is the city of
Coburg, where the richest blessings of Providence
display themselves, near which flows the river
Itz, and where is a magnificent ducal Oastle,
having the appropriate name of Rosina, with a
* One German (square) mile is equal to 22 English miles.
garden eniirelj^ surrounding it. Here the birtli
of Albert took place ; in this castle he made his
entiy into life on the 26th day of August in
the Christian year lcS'19. The coming of Prince
Albert into the world occasioned intense joy to
his parents ; but a few years after this the
chain of their love l)ecame suddenly broken.
Into the cup of unanimity dropped the deadly
poison of separation.* The virtuous Louisa was
separated from her husband, and passed all the
rest of her life in loneliness. The Prince lived
* Duke Ernest of Saxe Coburg, one of the central states of
Germany, had married Louisa, the highly accomphshed and
beautiful daughter of Augustus, Prince of Saxe-Gotha ; of her,
on the 26th August 1819, Prince Albert, the late husband of
our august Queen, was born. Prince Albert's ancestors were
warlike and energetic men. From the year a.d. 1455 they
held the sovereignty and carried on the government of several
states in the middle of Germany ; and the Princes their de-
scendants rule there to this day. After the birth of Prince
Albert a disagreement by some means arose between his pa-
rents, in consequence of which his mother retired to a palace
in Altenberg, and lived there apart from her husband till her
death, which took place 30th August 1851. Some of Prince
Albert's ancestors afforded powerful protection and assistance
to Martin Luther, the man who set up the Protestant religion
in opposition to the Roman Catholic, and who in consequence
suffered much persecution.
r
ill company with liis elder brother, and used to
divert himself with science and art. With stady
only he occupied his mind night and day ; by
study he made his heart to be wise, by study he
learnt the secrets of the world, and his humble
fortune expanded. He learnt so readily as to
give his preceptor the greatest pleasure. One
day he spoke to him thus with joy : " Albert,
virtuous, and of royal descent, to me thou seem-
est full of good fortune. With pains thou hast
acquired thy present perfection ; thy heart has
obtained adornment corresponding to the beauty
of thy face. Now, thy age has become quite
mature, it is but natural that if a wise son like
thee obtained a lady worthy of thee, royal by
descent, and virtuous in beha^dour, the garden
of thy hfe would flourish, and, tasting the fruits
of happiness, thou wouldst remain in the world
ever glad ; therefore, my accomplished pupil,
this is the one hope of my soul, that thou make
a hearty effort to be united to the worthy heir-
ess of the Kmgdom of England ; and if thou
do this, thou wilt not be disappointed. Procure
through some one, the asking of this lady in
G
marriage, or make tliy desire known to tliy
father. Tlion and slie are near rekitions ; you
are two brandies of one and the same tree ;
therefore lose no time in making these branches
thoroughly one. The spring of thy virtuous
youth is in its height ; put in action therefore the
effective dagger of contrivance ; engraft speedily
the plant of love ; make soft the ground of thy
heart with carefulness, bringing every good
influence to bear upon it ; tie the knot of union,
for through this thou wilt taste fruits fresh and
varied. From these, my words, learn thou the
secret ; and, having learnt it, lose not thy time,
for if thou do, thou will be considered a fool.
This youthful lady is suitable for thee, she is
as it were the moon movino* in the heavens.
When Albert heard words like these the pas-
sion of love arose in his heart ; his face became,
with blushes, like the flower of the pomegranate,
the radiance of the fire of love shone upon it.
Sleep, food, and study became distasteful to him ;
he lost repose ; and the anxieties of love en-
grossed him. In the place of learning came dis-
tressing cares ; his patience was consumed with
the fire of impatience. From baslif illness lie
spoke not a single word, l)ut merely looked down-
ward, and maintained a respectful silence.
-o-oj^^cjoo-
Victoria's Portrait scut to Germany to Prince Albert.
The bearer of the portrait presented it to
Prince Albert, and said* : If thy heart is an-
xious that thou shouldst see the bright face of
Victoria, I can give thee now this picture, which,
having seen, forget the distraction of thy heart.
Consider thou this a present from thy beloved ;
by this keep up the remembrance of her, and thy
love for her. Thee, a German Prince, I will
cause to meet that Queen ; I will contrive to
heal the wound of thy loneliness. Thou wilt
not find such a princess in the world, a lady on
whom the moon bestows praises and congra-
tulations. I am travelling in all the cities and
towns of the world to find one perfectly good,
in whom is nobility and pure ancestry, who
* In the year 1837, a liand-drawn portrait of Queen Vic-
toria, liy an eminent painter named Clialon, was sent as a
present to Prince Albert.
possesses ilie jewel of pure religion, wlio has
true love in liis heart, and who knows how to
gain the hand of a royal lady.
When Albert had heard these things, he set
free his honeyed tongue and soft voice, and said :
" bearer of the portrait, may Providence keep
thee m peace, for thou hast come here to-day like
an angel, and hast given to me this best of news;
thou hast administered the medicine for my
secret pain. Thanks without number be to God
that I have become acquainted with the condition
of a lover. Rest thyself awhile, I will prepare
a letter for Victoria ; take it for me, and lay it
at her feet ; present it to her at an auspicious
moment, and tell her all that thine eyes have
seen."
-<Kl"^0«
Prince Albert writes Victoria a letter, acknowlcilj;iiig the
Portrait presented to him, anil informing her at the
same time of his own grief and pain on account of
his lonely condition.
lady, greatly-beloved receive this my
salutation as readily as thou inhalest the rosy
fragrance of the morning ; a sahiation redolent
with devotion to thee, whose praise shines bright
as a flame. May it be welcome as the beautiful
spring, under whose influence flowers, leaves, and
withered trees come again into freshness ; as
the water, of life by which the world's verdure
is maintained as life itself to the l)ody, and as
hope to any desponding one. Know thou that
thy precious gift has reached me. I value it as
the very life of my heart, the pearls of my eyes
rest upon it, I see nought else anywhere.
bright eye of my soul! protection of the happi-
ness of all living things ! noblest foundation of
universal justice ! splendid pillar of the temple
of learniug ! lady, eminent for the encourage-
ment of art ! I am thy faithful and devoted
adorer. By the pain of separation from thee I
am distressed ; when I think upon thee I moan,
with my head bent to the ground. How shall
I make known to thee the sadness of my condi-
tion ? When I would write thee a letter the
water of my eyes flows from my pen instead of the
black iuk ; my design therefore remains unac-
comj)lislied ; blindness rests ujioii my eyes, and
fire burn;? in iny heart, in my feeling of love for
2 A
10
tliee I am mad ; I am a motli flying aromid a
liglited candle. Could I but obtain a sight of
tliy lovely face I would never remove my eyes
from off it. I am like an unsteady flickering
candle of night ; thou art like the dawning morn-
ing of sunshine. The lightning of love has
fallen on the lantern of my body ; and by the
floods of these eyes it will never be quenched.
As a moth flies about, then falls, flutters, and
finally rests, so, unsteadily, does the lamp of my
life burn. Were the black night of my grief to
become ink, and with a pen of sighs my loneliness
be described, yetwouldnot the tale of my afiliction
be fully told. To a distressed heart there are a
thousand anxieties, and every anxiety makes
wounds without number. How then shall I
apply ointment, and where healing plaster ? For
ten new wounds appear if one is healed. So fierce
within me rages the fire of loneHness that
though I swim always in a flood of tears, my
body is burning to a cinder. May no soul ex-
perience the intense pain of separation ! My an-
xiety to see thee, dearly beloved one, is so
great, that no description of it can be given ;
11
my years glide by in expectancy ; all my fancies
revel in tliy love. Thou appearest to me some-
times in my sleep, and my bed moves as though
it had taken to itself the wings of flying birds.
If thou ask as to thy place with me, I answer,
by night the eyes, by day the heart ; the
door-keepers of those places being wakefulness
and pain, which have the orders of the king of
love. Though I have not seen thee I know thee.
If thou hast understanding, thou wilt rightly
estimate this pure love. Keep thy heart free from
evil surmisings ; I am one with thee in heart,
though of a different country. To write more
appears not good. Enjoy thou for ever a mighty
Empire ; may the ci^dlized world remam subject
to thy sway ; may fame rest as a helmet upon thy
head ; may the great Giver be thy guide evermore.
My heart is ready to make any sacrifice to en-
sure thy acceptance of me ; my soul is under the
foot of thy orders.
12
An Ode on seeing the PictKre.
This thy picture fills me with iuilescribahle pleasure :
A lovely rose set about with ringlets unnumbered.
The souls thou hast captured
Hang upon the arrows of thy eyelids,
And the talk of this goes on
Among the hunters of this universe.
l?chold the streams of dro])ping blood in these my eyes !
They are like grains of rubies
(ilittering from the midst of quicksilver,
Welcom:', O nightingale, to go about this garden.
T.dk O roses and tulijis, talk about this fascinating one.
Hither has come the ])icture of a Jesus-like beloved one ;
And among all lifeless things the signs of life reappear.
AYlien Victoria's motlier licard concerning
tliis matter from her dangliter she was ghad in
heai't with the hope of having a son-in-law Hke
Albert, and replied thns : " O dangliter, rash,
and of little nnderstanding, the object thou
desirest is hard to attain. Albert, indeed, is
greatly renowned; few men will be found like him
in the world. He is born of a roval stock : his
pedigi^ee is of the purest ; in heart he is reli-
gious ; he is learned, skilful, and clever ; he is
indeed worthy of thee ; yet is there one great
impediment. The hearts of the English people
are intoxicated with haughtiness ; they despise
a stranger and a foreigner ; they will not at all
13
approve tliis tiling, nor will tliey consider it
honourable that thou shouldst be united in love
to a child of Germany. Thou, the worthy heiress
of the English throne, wilt be considered too
high to be mated with a Prince of Germany.
Albert, by his ancestors, is a pure German ; the
English will not approve of thy marriage wdtli
him. But I will make every exertion for thee ;
therefore let thy heart be patient and calm.
Prince Albert writes a letter to his father asking per-
mission to marry Queen Victoria ; his father's
reply thereto.
Albert thought he w^ould acquaint his father
with the true circumstances of his case, state
his wishes, and ask his approval. He therefore
applied his pen to paper. In the beginning lie
wrote the name of God, wdio makes the bright
day and the black night, who is the benefactor
of the world, and in whose hand is justice ; with
whose goodness the whole world is filled ; with
whom are the fears and the hopes of man ; ^y\lO
gives punishment to the wicked, and rewards to
the riiihteous : wdio is tlie God of heaven and the
earth, the guide of hearts enehied witli goodness
u
\vlio brings prosperity and also desolation ; wlio
gives life to tlio withered and the weak ; who
blesses youth with bloom and fragrance, and
who causes body and soul to droop in age ;
whose orders are obeyed over the whole earth ;
without whose permission not a fly can lift its
wing in the air, nor an ant move its feet upon the
ground ; who from one pair filled the earth with
people, and willed that nothing should ever be
produced by a single one. No one in creation
exists save God ; for there is none worthy to be
his equal. But all his productions in this world
are from pairs ; within the veil of this mystery all
things are included. All time and space are filled
with life ; in man there is the light of love and
knowledge. If in this world the species had not
been in pairs, there would never have continued
here a growing population. There is no divine
rolio^iou in the world which does not allow of two
becoming a pair. Wonderful is the law of de-
velopment of the youth of the body. Without
pairing the rosary of the body will not bud
forth ; through it love and friendship and kind-
ness and fondness, the field of domestic happiness,
flourishes. Vain is all worldly happiness with-
15
out bodily gratification; tlie soul by itself cannot
remain liappy at all. Happy is the jDair wliicli
has a child; wretched is the man who dies
without one ; the road to heaven is closed upon
him, and in his lifetime he suffers shame and
destitution. The name and memory of a father
is perpetuated by a child ; therefore without pair-
ing, the world would become altogether desolate.
The cause of all these words, this lengthy de-
monstration, is the wretched state of my heart.
This world and this life have become to mo
insipid ; my heart has gone, and songs, sport, and
merriment have become poison to me ; flowers,
plants, and singing l3irds are all as nothing to me ;
he who has no heart feels everything vain. If
thou art my father receive my complaint. My
heart's love longs to be in the palace of Victoria ;
show me mercy then ; oh, show me compassion !
That lady has taken away my heart altogether.
Wliethcr people are great or small, high or low,
they obtain happiness only by marriage ; this is
the general experience of the world ; and religion
and even learned men make no objection thereto.
Thou art wise and prudent, and discerning,
there is no need of wriliug more to tJicc. Tlie
blood of my heart drops like AYater through the
avenues of my eyes ; but notwithstanding this
intense grief, and this overwhelming distress,
I crave thy command. What is thy wish ? Wliat
are thy thoughts towards me ?
ci*Joo
A'ictoria's motlicr writes a letter to her (own) brother,
who was Prince Albert's father, and consults him on
the subject of Victoria's betrothal, and other
matters.
As soon as Victoria's mother understood the
cause of her daughter's unhappiness, she wrote
to her brother on that subject. First she blessed
God, from whom are the springs of existence and
non-existence, whose servants are we all in this
world. And then she proceeded thus : " Toil and
care and bliss and splendour, are continually pass-
ino- over the head of man ; what need therefore for
me to descant at all upon matters such as these.
But a difficulty has come in my way, the solu-
tion of which I seek in thy counsel ; therefore
ask I advice of thee, my wise-hearted brother.
I have nourished a plant in the field of love, and
have watered it with care all my hfe long. In-
17
stead of manure I bestowed on my plant atten-
tion and knowledge ; I caused it to grow, and be
beautiful, and to improve day by day. By toiling
day and night, tlirougli frost, and cold, and heat,
I developed it into a fruitery, rich, and exalted
on high ; and I expected to taste delicious fruits
from off it. But suddenly I saw the effect of
the influence of time upon it ; that time had with-
ered its leaves and fruit, and burnt its branches ;
that the fragrance of happiness had fled, and
the evil odour of grief had taken its place ; that
my plant, my daughter, had become filled with
grief, hj reason of her love for thy son. Albert
has secretly thrown a net over her, and in his
net her soul has become a prey. I have employed
many devices, and have spoken many words, yet
no good appears effected. Therefore brother
point out to me a remedy, for none occurs to me
except that my daughter and thy son may spend
their lives in everlasting love. The auspicious!
union of Victoria and Albert may create nev,'-
hopes ill the world, may sow abundant seeds in
the field of time, and give life to the royal family
of England."
3.V
18
Prince Albert's father talks Avitli Albert concerning the
letter which he had written to him ; and afterwards
having received the letter of the Duchess, goes with
his sou and his whole family to London.
Albert's father read the letter he had sent, and
thoroughly weighed its contents ; he felt no com-
passion for his son, but commanded to call him
at once. He then addressed him in anger, with
words harsh and cold, saying, son, rash and
of little sense, that thou dost entertain such fool-
ish thoughts, thou hast abandoned happiness, and
art taking on thy head trouble and grief. What
is love ? what is friendship ? and what is this
commotion in thy breast ? Foolish boy, hereto-
fore engrossed in eating, diinking, and learning.
Where didst thou get this information, and these
notions ? Wliere didst thou see any one to love ?
Where didst thou lose thy heart ? "Wliy dost thou
prate thus ? And who made thee prate ? Hath
Satan caused thee to go astray ? Wlience canst
thou, an inhabitant of the city of Gotlia, and a
mere Duke's son, have obtained such a thought
or notion as that there should be a connection
between thy heart's love and the great heiress
of the throne of England. What need hath she
19
of one like thee ? She is the moon in the high
heavens, thou a mere atom on the earth ; she a
cypress of paradise, thou a reed of the desert ;
she a nightingale of the garden, thou an insect of
the grass. A nation proud and haughty like
the English will think thee thoroughly mad.
son consider well, and do not plunge into the
whu^lpool of calamity. The jewel of thy expec-
tation will never come into thy hands. Talk to
me now in a becoming manner ; display not rude-
ness and shamelessness, for he who pains the
heart of his father is an evil son ; he who aban-
dons the customs of his father is a vicious son.
He only is a true son who makes glad his father's
heart ; he only is a true son who holds to his
father's name ; he only is a true son who obeys
his father's commands.
Having heard this Albert felt greatly grieved,
and scalding water filled the two narcissus
flowers, — his eyes. Hedespairedof life, his face
became pale, his lips dry, and his breath cold.
Then, having looked downwards, he turned his
face away, for he was sore vexed by the words
of his father.
20
AYlien the letter of tlie Ducliess arrived, the
Prince's father read it, and understood the whole
matter. He came to know the grief that was
upon his son, and was much atBicted, on account
of past occurences. He bestowed upon it care-
ful attention, and finally it appeared to him good ;
for if one like Victoria became his daughter-in-
law, he would attain to much worldly distinction.
His head would reach the heavens through his
greatness, and his descendants would continue
flourishing and happy. Through a daughter-in-
law, so highly favoured by fortune as Victoria, his
interest and influence in the world would increase.
He became so glad at heart that the intensity
of his gladness was sufiicient to resuscitate the
body of a dead man, or to make the old bloom
with youth again, for he considered himself at
the height of good fortune. Then he called
Albert and spoke with him kindly words of
wisdom, sayuig : " Son, thou seemest truly for-
tunate, difficulties of every sort are suddenly re-
moved far away. The desire of thy soul is ac-
comj)lished. Be glad at heart and wise in mind ;
give thanks to the Lord for his mercies, for the
21
Tisible and tlie hidden are known unto liim.
Through his providential care the earth is al-
ways fresh, myriads upon myriads of creatures
live by him. Through his loving kindness man
is supremely happy ; by his mercy the world re-
volves and time runs on ; from him are life and
death and goodness. We are all his servants.
Trust thou in Him for every thing. Let not
greatness make thy heart proud. All pride
shall utterly fall to the ground ; the greatness
of no earthly thing will continue.
Now thou hast to form friendship with a
foreign people, maintain my name, my character,
and my reputation. Never forget the country of
thy birth, show kindness to the weak and the
needy. Study thou the pecuhar disposition of the
Eno^hsh, for there is in their constitution a
natural haughtiness. Let thy speech on every
subject be suited to the time. We must now
go to England, where thou wilt meet thy be-
loved; therefore from to-day prepare thyself; read
this good news from thy aunt (father's sister)
and write thou a befitting answer thereto. We
.shall surely proceed there soon.
oo
Then Albert made this reply : 0, wise father,
highly fiivoiired by fortune ! Nature has bestowed
on thee perfect understanding. From thy pre-
cepts the light of my knowledge is derived.
The dust of thy feet forms my pillow. I obey
thy commands as I obey the mandates of re-
ligion. In this world a son has honour only from
the father. May no grief ever betide thee; may
no evil eye ever rest upon thee ; may thy ill
wishers be overthrown in their wickedness ; may
thou continue in the world, in the full enjoyment
of happiness.
The Duke now gave an order to make ready
all things necessary for the journey, and without
delay they travelled stage after stage, now by
land, now by water. In the Christian year 1836
this happy event took place. All arrived at the
port of London. The news of their arrival soon
reached the Duchess, whereupon she made the
necessary arrangements to afford accommodation
of every kind to her guests, and Victoria imme-
diately went upon the terrace. Like the shining
ftdl moon in the heavens, did that beautiful be-
loved one stand, and like a gazelle casting forward
23
her mild and longing eye, she saw her thoughtfid
lover walking with gracefulness— the good and
renowned prince of Gotlia. Having come near,
she opened her ruby-coloured lips thus :"Wonder-
ful art thou, Prince, truly wonderful. It is
well that thou art come. Thy face glows with
brightness like the sun. May the Lord of both
the worlds bestow his blessing upon thee. May
He give thee thy heart's desire. Thou hast
troubled to come to this place ; by thy face the
black night of sorrow has been turned into bright
and joyful day. The fragrance of thy body has
pervaded this city ; the roses of the garden have
forgotten their odour.*
* In this work, on e^ery suitable occasion, the words i-ose
(that is the Jlower of the rose tree) and n'ghtingale will very
often occur ; but in this country the colour and odour of this
flower and the voice of the singing of this bird do not seem to
be worth admiring, therefore perhaps some ignorant reader
might judge less favourably of them. Hence we might quote
the words of the eminent authors, Sir II. Rawlinson, Sir II.
K. Porter, and Sir William Jones, about the rose and night-
ingale of Persia, and from this the reader will be convinced
that the flower and this bird exist in our ancient country of
Persia, and arc considered worthy of great admiration. Besides
this, other authors mention that even in the earth about the
roots of the rose tree of Persia there exists so much odour that
many people at the time of bathing or washing their hands
and feet rub that earth upon their bodies as soap,
24
Wlien Albert lieai'd these sweet words lie saw
tlie face before liim like the lustre of tlie sun.
Ill appearance it resembled tlieliglit of tlie dawn.
Even tlie dust, through her brightness, shone
like rubies. He answered, lady of pleasing
countenance, may thou be happy and may the
Lord show thee favour. I was desirous only to
see thy face ; in the night lying down, I counted
the stars ; by day, feeling restless and disquieted
I was continually crying in the court of the Lord,
that He, the God of mercy and fulfiller of one's
desires, might show me thy lovely face. Now
I render him thanks without number, because
at length he hath shown me thy face, lovely as
the pomegranate flower. Cause me to hear thy
heart-charming voice, thy sweet speech, and to
see thy gracefulness and elegance.
Having heard this, Victoria became exceedhig
glad, and walked in the garden with Albert,
While walking a voice was heard to say, Re-
joice garden, leaves and trees rejoice, for
the best-beloved has come to perambulate in this
place. happy spot, happy day ! the thorns
have bloomed into gaily coloured flowers ; on all
2o
sides, flowers and fruits send forth a rose-like
fragrance. All flowers lift up their golden cups,
and dew fills them with variously coloured
wine. The breeze wafts the fragrance far from
hence; all objects in this garden unite to leap
for joy. All the trees are hfting their branches
on high invoking the Lord ; they are worshippers
before Him, because abundance of pleasures and
delight has come here ; from a distant country
the renowned best-beloved has come. Arise
gardener, arise quickly, and come ; bring
wreaths of champa and jasmine ; sing night-
ingales a strain of pleasant song, that the beloved
of my soul may be cheered, that the owner of
the garden may be delighted.
Words spolien by a lover in the pleasant interview ivith
the beloved.
Stanz.v I.
I bestow on the person of lay beloved the jewel of my soul,
Wjiat better use can I make of this jewel by keeping it ?
Congratulations to thee, O weak heart.
That a virtuous lover of Jesus-like spirit.
Has come hither and walks in this place.
Like the spring oi the garden of Paradise.
Rejoice ye fruits for the morning breeze is blowing,
And nightingales are singing merrily songs and lays,
And strains of exquisite beauty.
4 A
26
Stanza 2.
O ye leaves and trees, sing in David-like strains instructive
songs ;
For the Solomon of the city of Gotha,
Has sown love in the place of my heart.
Stand in awe ye cypresses, stand in awe.
For the dove has suddenly come.
And with a branch of the flower of love.
Has gained a victory over the nightingale.
Like the pillars of an arch.
The walls and gates of this palace
Flung wide their arms when the beloved came rushing
alone.
Stanza 3.
Come my beloved, sit by me.
Take oif thy (travelhng) garments and be at ease ;
Thou hast been tossed about with the toils of thy journey.
Take rest and refresh thyself.
The pearls of dew dropping from thy forehead.
Are like grains of diamonds falling from the clouds ;
O man of a pleasing and beautiful countenance,
By these thy glowing cheeks,
A thai t of dazzling brightness has been bound
On the face of the moon.
Stanza 4.
So wonderfully lustrous has heaven formed thy face.
That the atmosphere is bathed in theocean of its brilliancy;
A messenger came and told me
That a Joseph-like lover arrived.
* Thai ^\H a round vessel used usually as a plate, which is kept
scrupulously bright and polished. — Transhtor''s note.
27
With Zuleika liks heart I rose at once
To see thy countenance.
This Micerian soul is an offering at thy feet.
Without thee the garden of my happiness
Was as it were a Canaan of grief.
{Reply of the heloved.)
Stanza 1.
The black night of distressing grief
Has become bright by meeting thee.
Near the corpse of my dead heart, as it were,
A light of life has come.
Thou speakest with such grave fascination.
As to steal in a moment,
The life-long devotion of a virtuous-hearted lover.
Stanza 2.
What description shall I give of this face and this heart ?
Running swifter than fast-flowing tears.
And hotter than deep drawn sighs,
I have brought to thee this soul.
Which "with lenderest care
I have nourished and brought up ;
I now commit that soul to thee.
With great delight I stand here in thy abode, O beloved.
At last the Righteous Lord has accomplished
The work according to my desii'e.
Stanza 3.
I am ready to bow to whatever thou.
Heart charmer, mightst do ;
Whether thou woundest me with rage.
Or fillcst my heart with love.
I am not so base a man as to say
One thing with one mouth,
And belie it afterward.
28
If I were to swerve from thee here
Divine wrath would overtake me.
beloved, may thou live in honour, renown, and joy ;
May the merciful Father of both the worlds
Shield thee from every danger.
Stanza 4.
To the very last moment thou wast a guest
In the chamber of my heart.
Now haidng seen thee with the eye,
1 am ready to offer my soul.
After the blackness of intense grief,
Appeared the moon of thy face.
Through joy at this happy event
My head has reached the highest heaven.
The treasure for which I longed anxiously for years
Stands now before my face ;
Eejoice, O my soul and be glad I
Then tliey parted each from the other, and
severally joined the magnificent assembly gathered
in the palace ofWindsor. In the same palace was
then" abode. The Duchess of Kent discharged
the duty of supplying all the wants of the guests.
She showed hospitality to her brother in everyway.
Victoria also was anxiously attentive, and taking
every trouble, busied herself both body and mind,
attending to the guests day and night, and make-
ing them happy with her cheerful countenance,
29
so tliat they spent many days witli pleasure and
deliglit, in the enjoyment of singing, in social
meetings, and parties of various kinds ; in love
meetings, and every agreeable and heart-exciting
occupation. The Duchess made all arrangements
with her brother and bestowed Albert's name
on Victoria (betrothed her to him). They post-
poned the marriage to a distant date, saying when
the lady shall be formally crowned we will com-
plete all the ceremonies of marriage, we will do
all things according to the practice of the country
and of our religion. After this the Duke prepared
for his homeward journey, and caused all things
requu^ed on the way to be in readiness, that he
might leave for his own country.
Words spoken on the eve of a lover's departure to his
own country.
When my lovei* prepares for his journey.
What shall I do ?
Shall I devise an antidote for separation?
Or shall I resign life altogether ?
Coming suddenly, he caused the lightning
Of dear love to flash upon my heart.
My heart has been scorched into kabab.
What shall I do ?
30
He is going, oh he is going,
The spring of the garden of this body,
lie is going, as the precious soul
From the body.
Not a flower has been plucked
From the garden of our meeting,
Yet he goes away ;
In the wilderness of separation,
The tiger is making a prey of my heart.
Parting from my lover will deprive me.
Of my pride and happiness.
Useless is the ring when the diamond is gone.
And how can its cost be redeemed ?
If all the adornments of the soul go with the lover,
Why should the body remain ?
The hope of the world goes from my heart,
On whom then shall I bestow attention?
Having filled his eyes with desperation.
He flies away like a deer.
With the arrows of the rays of those eyes
The heart of many a soul is pierced.
Like the flashing of the lightning
In a fiery chariot flies he away.
By his rapid rushing moving,
The electric currents of the earth are put to shame.
Separation from my own soul
Is easier to endure,
Than banishment from thy face ;
In the strict interchange of love,
I am the body, thou the soul.
Having come late and sat for a moment,
Thou hast robbed me of my peace.
Having cast me into the mire of separation,
Thou hast gone to thy fatherland.
31
This uiglit separation from my belored
Gives me warning of death.
The gi'ief of this death knoAvs no night,
It is the storm foreboding the judgment day.
Blood runs down from my eyes,
My soul is severed from the body.
Come quickly back again.
For thou only art my rest and bliss.
Last night that shining moon
Took leave of me and went away.
My heart's sighs blessed him.
And my tears accompanied him.
Like prosperity came he slowly.
Like adversity carried he joy away quickly.
He, like the life of the body.
Having gone out once, never came back again.
Like the kernel in the midst of an almond.
That man of fascinating countenance
Departed, leaving in the recesses of my heart
A void completely desolate.
As a wicked man at the time of his death
Improves his morals and faith,
So didst thou when going on thy journey,
Make to me new vows and promises.
Thou art going from my sight.
But the mark of grief will be left in my heart.
Having come hither like a firefly,
Thou hast burned the flower garden of my soul.
Thou earnest tardily, as hope to the hopeless ;
Thou dcpartest as the favour
Of a hard-hearted friend.
p
HAPTER II.
Prince Albert arrives at his own country and completes liis
studies. Victoria ascends the throne, and the prince
thereupon projects another visit to England.
Albert at once embarked in a vessel : a splen-
did gift was placed in tlie arms of the sea.
Tliat moon of love sat in a sliip, and drew along
as it were the whole illuminated waters. He
reached his country in safety with his father, and
engaged in studies of every kind. He associated
with the wise and learned, and studied ever}^
subject with eagerness. He perplexed his
tutors with inquiries, and by earnest application
he attained wonderful proficiency ; in the society
of the learned he became himself learned, and
acquired profound knowledge of the laws of
religion and of the state. He travelled in
all cities and countries, and obtained all the
knowledge requisite for a king. When the
year 1840 arrived Queen Victoria had been
seated securely on the throne, had placed upon
her head the God-shadowed crown, and had
become superior in majesty to all others in the
world. The canopy of justice overspread the
earth, the hearts of the wicked melted with fear,
food and profitable industry became abundant
in the earth ; by the bright drops of the cloud
of benevolence the whole world became a flour-
ishing garden. Never was such a flower seen
in the spring time, never was snch a lark
brought up in a nest. From the court of heaven
such strict justice descended, that the hearts
of all people were happy and glad. The tree of
prosperity was firmly rooted, and gave the nation
most delicious fruits to eat. The neck of op-
pression was cut off* by the sword of justice.
The rights of the weak and the strong were
made equal, the water of the stream of justice
flowed through the world, and the earth became
beautiful and green with the verdure of hap-
piness. The shadow of impartiality spread
itself abroad, and restrained the hands of devils
from evil.
.') A
34
ODE.
In praise of Victoria,
Many many thanks (o God,
That from the royal seed of the Enghsh nation
Came forth this incomparably precious pearl.
From the royal nest soared aloft this Homa,
Out of the galaxy of famous ones this star appeared.
No rosary could show so beautiful a rose as this,
No tulip garden could produce a tulip such as this.
The hearts of all people were delighted
That at length the Lord had heard their prayer.
The heart-charming spring of mercy
Bloomed forth, and a dead world lived again.
The Lady who sits upon the throne.
Is a Queen of a pure heart,
A light in darkness to all grieved ones,
A giver of hope to the hopeless.
The idol of the hearts of the religious.
The dread of unjust kings.
A good and renowned Queen enthroned
In the hearts of her subjects,
She is the bright reflection of divine love.
Well fitted for the crown and the throne.
The sure support of religion and justice:
In whom rests the confidence of the world.
May thy years, the incidents of thy life.
Thy wealth, thy condition.
Thy family, thy descendants, thy fortune, thy throne.
Remain secure in this world.
From generation to generation ;
May thy years be happy.
The incidents of thy life propitious,
Thy wealth increasing, thy condition blessed.
May thy family prosper, thy descendants endure.
Thy throne be firm, thy fortune subservient to thy will.
35
A little time after this occurrence tlie Queen
again remembered Albert ; she caused a letter,
official, and according to rule, to be written to
his father.*
"When the letter reached Albert's father he was
filled with exceeding joy. He instantly called
Albert, and spoke to that fortunate one thus :
0, handsome son of rare fortune, my miserable
day has become happy through thee. A branch
of the tree by whose virtue wealth has penetrated
into the depths of the earth has come into
thy hand; whose feet this rolling earth kisses, and
on whom the kings of the earth bestow their
praises. By this my soul is so much gladdened
that, though old, I have become young again.
Then Albert gave answer thus : honoured
*"0n the 15th December 1839 Viscount Torrmgton and
Colonel Grey, two great officers of state, were sent with suitable
presents by the English Government per steamer Fearless to
Germany, to meet Prince Albert, on behalf of the English
Government ; and having conferred a title on him in the
name of the Government, to bring him and his whole family
to London ; accordingly, on the 24th January, these officers
bestowed the title on the Prince with great pomp in the citv
of Gotha, and on the 28th January they and Albert's family
embarked for England."
36
father of a noble stock : to thy great virtue all
this is owing. I rejoice in a good father like thee ;
the dust of thy feet is the support of my body ;
thy approbation is the adornment of my soul ;
thy commands are the duties of my life.
Albert's father prepared himself at once,
taking necessary provisions, furniture, and
money. Having sat in a boat Prince Albert
went forward accompanied by his family.
The gallant vessel floated down the stream, and
did not leave her track on the way.*
From a distance she appeared like an alligator,
or like the moon of the second day (day
after new) sailing through the heavens, or like
a tree growing in the midst of deep waters, cast-
ing its shadow as it moved in a hundred direc-
tions ; or she was like a horse leaping without
feet and bound only to the siu'face of the water;
so swift and so lofty of mien that the sun from
afar uttered a shout of approbation. As a lover
* On the 28th January 18 10 Prince Albert (with his father
and relations) set out to go to London ; he wept bitterly at
parting from his own palace of Ehrenberg, as well as from his
own dear country.
37
weeps on account of separation from his beloved,
so the ship beating her breast, filled her skirts
with water. She sometimes appeared from her
motion tired and weary, and the bubbles about
her seemed like blisters on the feet. In body
she was a strong negress, but in speed lively ;
in her womb were hundreds of children, yet did
she never bear. So swiftly by a succession of
graceful leaps did she move, that the waters
flowed gushingly behind her. Her deportment
was like that of a holy man, who without hands
and feet (being without wealth and devoted to
piety) lives upon water, continually spreading
the carpet of prayer, and bowing her head to kiss
the book of the sea. When the sea desired to
sing its praise, the tongue of the waves uttered
sublime songs. Riding along Albert saw the
bubbles and waves on the watery plain, remind-
ing him of the ball and chogan.*
From whichever side the vessel turned her
head the waters of the sea would retire ; they
moved from their place gi^^ng way on all sides
* Chogan " is a game like cricket, played on horseback.
38
as for the great Zoroaster when he passed
through the water " Darati."
"VYhen Albert saw the foam of the channel
a feeling of delight arose in his heart, and he
said, righteous God, how exceedingly pure
is the water of this sea, that its bubbles appear
like starry eyes in which can be seen the forms
of swimming fishes. If shells be here pearls
may be counted, its waves appear to extend
hundreds of furlongs. Strong it is, as if filled
with uncontrollable madness, its waves are like
the raging of an infuriated elephant, their crests
appear like alhgators, before them the roaring
of lions would be nothing. In the eyes of the
fishes shine the fire of light, and on every wave
are hundreds of lamps. Deriving pleasures and
enjoyments from reflections such as these, all
the travellers went on, and reached the port of
London in safety, and the vessel anchored in
the Thames.
ooX^oo
F
HAPTER III.
-ooJzStloo-
Prince Albert, with his father and all his family, having come
to London, and reached Victoria's Palace, performs
the auspicious ceremony of marriage, and gives an
entertainment.
Then they all bent their steps toward tlio
City, and the news of their coming speedily
reaching the palace, Victoria came out, attended
by her maids, having in their hands bouquets
of flowers. These in their joy they scattered
upon the bridegroom, and having shouted wel-
come, inquired of his health. The meeting was
a joyous and dehghtful one, gladness reigned
every where. Several days passed and prepara-
tions for the marriage were completed, and the
ministers and the people, the wise and the
thoughtful, fixed unanimously on one particular
day, and at noon of the auspicious 10th day of the
fortunate second month, the necessary ceremony
40
took i)lace. All was done according to the rites
of religion, and tlie customs of the country, and
the \drtuous Victoria was united with Albert.
In an august and magnificent assembly a cove-
nant was entered into to this effect : —
I, Albert, son of tlie Gotlia prince, resign myself
to thy will from this day ; with the sign of this ring
I now wed thee, and I will live with thee from this day
for ever. I will not be wanting in the duty of a hus-
band, in all purity, kindness, and faithfulness ; I will
not permit my love to fail thee even for a moment.
Should I do so with thee, may God do even so with me.
Having seen with my eyes, assented with my understand-
ing, and having solemnly vowed this according to the
customs of this country and of the Church, I swear it.
Moreover in my full age I have entered into this en-
gagement ; and have in this promised that the desire
of another shall never be entertained by me.
Then Victoria spoke such words as these : —
Thou art my husband and I thy wife ; from now to
the last of my days, with thee only will I continue united
in body and soul, in poverty or in riches, in pros-
perity or in adversity ; thy will and thy law will I keep,
thy lawful behests will I obey witli all my heart, and
will remain submissive to thy virtuous wishes.
41
Having completed these ceremonies, and this
covenant, the sun found rest in the arms of the
moon, for Albert became Victoria's husband.
From every quarter arose a shout of gladness, the
whole assembly tendered their congratulations,
and all earnestly desired their welfare.* Then
came Victoria's honoured mother: she first turned
her face towards the bright sky; then having
invoked a blessing, uttered these words : —
O good daughter, wise prince ; only to day
have I found any true delight in the world, for
before my death I have seen this auspicious event,
by which the glory of England will be maintained.
May the Protector of the World, holy and ex-
alted, in His mercy prolong your lives. Dwelling
in harmony may you experience unbounded
happiness, and keep your hearts set on God's
laws.
Then came other ladies near, their royal
apparel glittering with gold, from whose persons
* On the lOtli February 1840 Albert and Victoria were
married in the royal chai)cl of St. James. The kings and
princes of many countries had asked Victoria in marriage, but
all in England with one mind approved Albert, and for h'l'i
expenses th^y voted him an income of Rs. 3,00,000.
■i2
issued forth the smell of perfumes, all hearts
rejoicing, all tongues sweet ; they invoked
blessings, and spoke —
Khosru of Germany — Shirin of England,
may you taste delicious draughts of the honey
of love, may you continue in this world stead-
fast in true affection. May you have many
sons, and thus establish the throne ; may you be
happy in body and mind by seeing the happiness
of your children; by virtuous actions may your
state be ever prosperous, and may the hearts of
your subjects be ever set upon you.
Wlien these blessings and ceremonies were
finished in joy and gladness, the voice of tri-
umph arose from every side, with guns, and bells,
and bands of music ; in every house, too, arose
the heart- charming sounds of cornets, flutes,
harps, pianos, and singing of various sorts; cannon
boomed from every fort — one making a whirring
noise, another a noise like thunder; their
smoke flew high and far away, blinding the
eyes of hostile men. On the face of the firma-
ment set the clouds of jealousy, and the atmos-
pheric space was filled with echoings. The ships
43
and boats in the river were decorated and ap-
peared splendid. Flags flaunted in the air far and
near, and in the whole of London was seen only
the light of joy. When the king of night came
majestically along, he brought with him an in-
numerable array of dazzling roses, filled the
expanse of the heavens with stars, and sprinkled
upon the garden of the world gems of brilliancy.
The lamps upon the vessels in the river appeared
like small stars of the firmament, and by their
reflection the surface of the river appeared burn-
ins: like the fire of Ravan Lanka : * or as
sparkling rubies embroidered upon a ground of
silver, so did the lamps appear upon the bosom
of the water; and the bubbles, by the light of the
lamps, appeared like golden fruits in crystal
glasses. So pure became the waters of the Thames
that one could see in them the image even of the
soul of his body. It was not a river, but as
it were a flower garden; and the bodies of
the fishes glittered like rose loaves. Every
* The great fire which burnt up Ceylon (anciently called
Lanka), in the war between Rama and Ravan, celebrated in the
great poem Ramay^^na.
44
Avliere were clusters of variously decked boats ;
the vessels were as shaking mountains, which
made graceful motions like peacocks coquetting
in the garden of Paradise.
An assembly met as in the garden of heaven.
The bounties of God were prepared in an elegant
manner ; kings and princes and chiefs met to-
gether ; fairy -faced ladies and royal dames as-
sembled in costly garments. Candles and lamps
dazzled the eve, and a handsome table with
dehcious viands was laid out, food tasty and
fragrant was served, and confections and fruits
of various sorts.
(The praise of the Assembly.)
Manv an assemblv must have met in the
world, but one so orderly, so grand as this, there
never could have been. Such fragrant scent
went forth from it, as if the dew of atar had
fallen from heaven. The air became fragrant
as the musk-chamber of the (musk) deer, the
hangings being of the cloth of Tartary and China.
Such was the exuberance of joy pervading that
45
place, tliat the dry strings of tlie guitar became
resplendent.
Tlirougli tlie lamps tlie night became bright
as the day, by the brightness of their moons, a
veil was, as it were, thrown over the moon of
the heavens ; so much light rose from all these
lamps that a glittering came forth from the black
feathers of the crow ; such magnificent chande-
liers were hanging there that they seemed to be
clusters of glassy flowers in a garden of light,
in which the dazzling jets of flame appeared like
ripe fruits on the trees of Paradise. As in the
firmament there is a display of jewels, so the
spectacle presented here was a brocade of pearls.
The lights shone out in the palace with such
splendour that the stars painted their eyes with
surma.* The light shining in that palace was
* Surma means the sulphuret of antimony.
There are two explanations of this figure; (1) the hght of
the lamps was so dazzling, that the eyes of the stars could
not endure it, so it hecame necessary to strengthen them by
painting them with surma.
(2) The light of those lamps a])pearcd so pleasant to the
stars in the firmament that they took, as it were, the smoke
going forth from those lamps and adorned their eyes hy paint-
ing them with it.
46
like tlie liglit of heaven, and the ground was fully
sown with joy ; every corner appeared al^ounding
with pleasant fruits, and the field of the heart
blooming under the influence of the essence of
the wine.
(About Musical Instruments.)
AVlien the reign of wine (the time during
which wine was drunk) was finished, from every
side arose the sound of musical instruments.
The strings of the Tnmhora awoke from their
sleep, and the hands of the plaj'^ers moved very
gracefully. The Tabla appeared like scales and
weights in which playing and singing were
equally balanced. The gourd-bodied, heart-
charming (three string) guitar became a swim-
mer in the sea of delightful singing. Accordians
soothed every heart, and violins and flageolets
played so deliciously as to aflect the senses
like the well known scent distilled from the
veins of the leaves of roses. The wires of
the rebeck appeared dry, yet made they the water
47
of life flow ill every one. Trombones sounded
so impressively that letters were imprinted
upon the face of the air. Such arrows went forth
from the bows of the guitars that the hearts of
young and old were pierced. All griefs found
themselves dispersed under the influence of
the violms, the cornets destroyed complicated
difficulties, the flutes sent forth such warm
breath that hearts hard as ice were softened,
and as sheaves shed ripe grains, so did dis-
tracted lovers send forth sighs from their hearts.
Outwardly the body of the flute appeared old
and unattractive, without hands or feet, at-
tenuated and blind, but such wonderfiil secrets
were witlim it that like the rod of Musa it
removed affliction far away.* Its body was not
longer than a span, but there were in it the
depths of the sea of music. The charm of its
breath penetrated every ear, it became a lamp to
the seeing and a rod to the blind. In its bowels
* Musa was a Jewish proj)het whom the English call
Moses. The greatest wonder about liiin was this, that, kceii-
ing in his hand an Aso or small rod, every thing the rod
touched turned, it is said, to what Avas desired.
48
tliere were soul-cliarming strains, as the cliild
Jesus ill tlie womb of Mariam. *
In praise of Dancing.
The cypress statured ladies danced hke pea-
cocks, which made tumults to arise in the hearts
of lovers. On their fairy formed heads glittered
pearls, at the sight of which the sea of love in
every heart became agitated. The graceful mo-
tions of the hands of the dancers confused the
eyes of all men who observed them. When they
turned their steps one after another, all the
senses of a man fell beneath their feet. What
shall I say of the Mendozas and Polkas ?
for the philosophic and the pious lost their
peace of mind through them ; observing the
dancers' motions, the moon forgot her own ; and
* Here the allusion is as follows : — Mariam is the mother
of Christ, the prophet of Christians, and as this woman, accord-
ing to the faith of these people, becoming pregnant by Divine
power, without carnal knowledge of man, gave birth to so
eminent and benevolent a son as Christ, so as it were from tbe
bowels of the flute pleasant sounds issued, which soothed the
hearts of the grieved and afflicted, and bestowed u|)on them
rest and joy.
49
their gracefulness made the face of Venus blush.
The Polka was kept up mth such zest and
excitement that there was a stir among the angels
of heaven. Every twisted hair of the ringlets
on their heads brought upon hundreds of souls
harassing troubles. In every direction the arrows
of their eyes were flying, by which the old and
the young were wounded. In short the ball
was gracefulness itself, which made the stars bite
their own bodies with jealousy ; by such per-
formances men's senses and patience were stolen,
and at every step their innermost heart was drawn
away. When the beautiful ones arose again for
the Quadrille, the high heaven bent low to see
them ; yea all the revolving planets stood still
majestically, as if the day of judgment had
taken its birth from the womb of eternity.
Wlien the performance of singing and dancing
reached its climax, the dead rose up from the
ground superlatively enamoured of it. Such
radiance came from the bodies of the dancers
that the very lamps put their hands over their
eyes. By ihe innumerable attractions and
elegant mannci'S displayed by the ladies the
7 A
50
core of the lieart and of austerity (religious
feeliug) were stolen. No signs were made but
greatly captivated, no glances cast but were
the deepest spells ; it was less like a ball
than the assembly of hundreds of Jesus-like
glorified ones at the day of judgment. At the
tripping of the footsteps along the floor, the
gravity of the spectators' patience, even though
it were firm as a mountain, was completely
rooted out. As pollen drops from the anthers of
roses, so did colour leave the faces and self-
possession the brains of those who saw the
dancers. When they raised their eyes, making
graceful motions, the stars hid their brightness
within a veil. When they moved their eyebrows
making any sign, the beautiful face of the moon
became pale ; when they turned their radiant
countenances towards the east, the sun fled
and plunged into the west.
(In praise of Singing.)
Wlien the heart-charming singer was ready,
the whole assembly cried out, Sing, singer,
51
sing new songs, for love deliciously sweet has
touched the heart. Take great pains to amuse
us, at this pleasant time, for some souls are still
held in the grief of loveliness ; strive, be com-
passionate, perform wondrous deeds, like
Jesus. Make these soul-less bodies revive ; with
persuasive arts, with graceful manners, do thou
dehght them ; cause them to drink honey, shower
upon them sweetness, and cause all bitterness
to pass away. Then the singer took hearty en-
couragement, and began her graceful and cajDti-
vating performances. By the influence of the
tune a glow was brought even upon sun-like
faces, playing most enchanting music on the ac-
cordian, the minstrel made the altars of the heart
fragrant with love ; breathing through her ruddy
lips into the plaintive flute, she soothed the anxie-
ties and griefs of the hearts of all, and from her
charming mouth she drew forth such delicious
strains as to cause drops of joy to flow from
their eyes like cataracts ; and singing the airs of
her songs with pathos she made the sensations
of love descend into the hearts of half dead
men. Singing may be hkened to a wonderful
52
tree wliicli brings forth varieties of fruit with
amazing speed. Under its shades are the joys
of both the worlds, and in its very root is the
honey of love.
When all this merriment and joy, lasting
through the night, was finished, and the dawn of
the morning had come, the bridegroom and the
bride retired to their private apartments.
(Words of a lover on the occasion of meeting his beloved.)
O life of my soul, O life of my soul, "^
O life of my soul, life of my soul. )
He who in mercy has placed
The beautiful rose in the arms of the thorn,
Has at last given to my arras,
The neck of thy body.
(Olife of my soul, &c.)
The moth on whose heart
The lightning of love had fallen,
Has at last found a bright flame
In the lantern of thy embraces.
(O life &c.)
Truly those are blessed moments
When my eyes rest upon thy face,
For thy countenance soothes my wounds, and heals them.
(0 life &c.)
Separation from thee has made
My fate dark and dismal ;
But blessed be patience,
^Vhich has supported me till ncv.
(O life &c.)
I wept so much on accoimt of separation from thee,
That my weeping made a cleft in the stones.
And I indeed must have been harder than a stone
To be alive to this day.
(0 life &c.)
Death having considered me dead
Has many a time gone away from me ;
And indeed it made no mistake,
For a lonely lover seldom lives.
(O life &c.)
Grief threw such poison
Upon the threshold of my soul's abode,
That death, knowing its bitterness,
Would not enter the house of this body.
(O life &c.)
How shall I describe my feeling of love for thee ?
I burnt as fire in my loneliness,
By that very fire which keeps
The lamp of to-night so bright, was my body scorched.
(O life &c.)
When I asked the physicians for a remedy,
They answered me thus in despair:
Drink thou as sherbet night and day,
The blood of thy heart and the water of thine eyes.
(O life &c.)
54
If any one wish to learn the character of love.
Let him learn from me ;
Burning, weeping, brooding by day,
And wakefulness by night.
(O life &c.)
As a thief watches at night.
So would sleep watch near my tearful eyes ;
But when it saw my sad heart wakeful.
It turned away despairingly.
(0 life &c.)
Innumerable thanks to God,
That my lips have met thy lips in joy ;
heart-charming maid,
1 now commit to thee the soul which came to my lips.
(0 life &c.)
By uniting with thee.
The past years of my life have returned ;
Having seen thy Jesus-like beautiful countenance.
The spring of my soul is blooming afresh.
(O life &c.)
{Reply of the beloved.)
Chorus. What canst thou know of my condition I
Thou hast lived far from me ;
The distress I felt is known to God alone.
Without thee, O heart-charming lover,
My eyes had ever continued
Red as the tulip of Shirin,
And filled with the water of grief.
(What canst, &c.)
DO
Like the drowsv eves of kiiia; Khusru,
IMy fortune was in a pleasant sleep,
Or like the body of Maznoon,
My mind was not enjoying full consciousness.
(What canst, &c.)
Or like the ringlets of Leli,
My state was incomprehensible.
And the more I called thee to remembrance
The more my distress increased.
(What canst, &c.)
As the bodies of pomegranate grains
Are pricked by the stones in the midst of them,
So by the arrow-like points of drops of blood
This body was tormented.*
(What canst, &c.)
From the time when my love for thee
Pierced like a thorn the foot of my heart.
The youthfulness of my body withered.
And my soul burnt in the fire of grief.
(What canst, &c.)
* When Prince Albert came to London for the first time he danced
at many balls and parties with Queen Victoria, but the Queen did
not for some time find a 2;ood opportunity for giving him a token
of her favour ; on a certain occasion, however, when a ball was given
to a large party in the royal palace, and Victoria had danced with
Albert with great zest and enjoyment, she placed in his hands ele-
gantly and gracefully at parting a beautiful bouquet of flowers, which
Prince Albert took with great affection and gratitude, and tried to
fix it in some part of his dress, but having a suit in which there
was no place for it, he instantly took his knife from liis pocket and
cut the cioth near his heart and fixed the bouquet there, to the delight
of his renowned beloved one, and the surprise of the whole assembly.
p
^HAPTER IV.
«--iS.-\?s>Ac*^jxfl-— »
Victoria bears children, and passes her life in great happiness
and harmony.
In tliis manner a week passed away, tliey tasted,
mutually delicious drauglits of love. After some
longer time the liope of bearing pleasant fruit
was experienced by tliat lieart-cliarming cypress.
Her body's beauty languislied, and the expression
of her countenance changed. Her ruddy com-
plexion became of a saffron hue. After nine
months she gave birth to a beautiful fairy, at
the sight of whose face all were delighted. On
the 21st day of ^November in the year 1840 " Mary
Louisa " was born, * and happy and auspicious
fortune smiled upon the mother. Some timepassed
* On 21st November 1840 a daughter, Adelaide Mary
Louisa, was born, who on the 25th January 1858 was married
to Frederic "William, Prince of Prussia.
57
after this event in rejoicing and merriment, niglit
and day being spent in ease and comfort and good
liealth. When again a happy time arrived in 1841
the narcissus again became affected, * the heart-
charming rose put on beauty of another hue, the
garden of the body bloomed afresh, and again
the royal branch was yielding precious fruit. In
the fulness of time it ripened and was ready ; and
separating from the branch it took its place in
the world. On the auspicious 9th of November
a royal son was born, and prince Edward was the
name given him. All know him by the title of
Prince of Wales. In his lusty frame and
bright forehead were seen true indications of
royalty, in his face and chest, and hands and feet,
he seemed a second Albert : while his noble
* Let it be uaderstood that by the term 'narcissus' aUiisiou
is made here to Victoria's eyes ; for whether a woman is preg-
nant or not is discovered by physicians from the appearance
of her eyes, and from several other indications. On tlie 9th
November 1 84 1 the first son, i,he well known Albert Edward,
Prince of Wales, was born. This eminent Prince is at present
looked upon as the rightful heir of the English throne. It
is said that he has been well educated in every liranch of
knowledge, by his late fiitlier and other teachers.
8 a
58
mien and appearance and deportment brouglit
to mind King William tlie Fourth. Every day
lie gained the strength of a month, which occa-
sioned great comfort to the heart of his mother.
All the people of England were glad, and there
was great excitement among his relations and
friends. Albert remembered Grod in his heart ;
he bowed his head to the gi'ound, and said, " O
hearer of the prayers of the faithful, Thou Lord of
wisdom, ocean of mercy. Thou only art in both
worlds stronger than all ; by Thee only are all
virtues established ; Thou hast conferred upon me
a blessing indeed. Thou hast blessed me by the
birth of a son ; Thou hast made a bright lamp to
burn in the world, the English kingdom Thou
hast estabhshed, my humble name Thou hast ex-
alted, in Thy mercy Thou hast fulfilled the desire
of my heart ; in the garden of delight a fragrant
bud has expanded. Thou hast caused the hopeful
plant to bring forth fruit. Thanks that the moon
of the desire of the heart shines out from the
tower of hope; thanks that by this best
riches of the world my fortune has become
greatly beyond computation. I render Thee
59
innumerable tlianks for these Tliy favours,
but any return for tliem it is never possible to
make : though each hair of this body became a
tongue and poured forth thanksgivings every
moment to the judgment day, yet not a particle
of this favour would be repaid, for by favours of
this sort alone can the world continue to be in-
habited."
Always give thanks, brother, for nothing
of thine will continue unless thou do give
thanks. Thanksgiving alone makes gifts bless-
ings, and without thanksgiving all gifts become
curses. The tree of prosperity remains fruitful
through thanks, without thanks it is consumed
to ashes.
By this event England became glad, in every
house there was eating, drinking, and dancing ;
feast upon feast was celebrated in every town,
and words of congratulation passed between all,
whether high or low. The Prince was brought up
with every care ; and graces worthy of royalty
appeared in him. Some time afterwards, this
royal tree again becommg fruitful, bore a beauti-
60
fill daugliter,* and continued after tliis to bear
in due season, so that producing sons and
daughters it caused the royal family to increase
exceedingly. The favour of God came down with-
out measure; England became as it were a
peaceful rose garden. The spring of peace and
tranquillity bloomed there, the sword of war and
vengeance was sheathed. Through peace the
world became fragrant as a rose, oppression
fled away, and truth and faith took up their
abode in it ; streams of justice flowed upon all
sides ; the fire of tyranny and imposition was
extinguished, and the Queen occupied her throne
in the enjoyment of the utmost happiness and
* That is to say, after the birth of the Prince of Wales
another daughter, by the name of Ahce Mary, was born on the
25th April 1843 ; and after her, on the Cth August 1844 another
son, named Alfred Ernest ; on the 25th May 1S46 a third
daughter, Helena Augusta; on the 18th March 1848 a fourth
daughter, Louisa Caroline ; and on the 1st May 1850 Arthur
William Patrick, a third son ; on the 7th April 185;:{ a fourth
son, Leopold George Duncan; and after him, on the 14th April
1 857 a fifth daughter, Beatrice Mary. Thus four sons and five
daughters were born to the most gracious, fortunate, and
exalted Queen Victoria, and by the grace of God these are
all still living, and are engaged in various ways in the active
duties of life.
61
honour. Albert and Victoria lived happily, no
other pair in the world could enjoy such hap-
piness. No other have existed so loving and
beloved as that a report of their faults has not
gone abroad among the people, no other have
lived in this frail world in perfect purity and
love such as theirs.
oojoico-
p
HAPTER V.
o><8^c
Prince Albert and Victoria live together a long time perform-
ing their duties of life in a most exemplary manner,
and Albert takes the lead with great zeal in good works
of every kind, &c.
Know, reading brother, that this exalted royal
pair lived together 20 years subsequently to 1840
in the enjoyment of every kind of happiness and
dignity; rulmg the English nation, which pos-
sessed supremacy over all the nations of the
earth. Wliat shall I say of the fortunes of the
Queen ! The rolhng heaven was as it were, under
her control, her will was like a chogan,* and
the whole world like a ball revolved around her.
Great and mighty kings became subject to her.
She cutoff the heads of the rebellious, and desolate
became the country of the cruel Pindaris. All
the capital cities of ancient kings bowed humbly
before her. Proud China was brought low as if the
* See a former note on this word.
63
days of the warlike Janges Khan had returned ; *
the heroic Punjabees were completely subdued, as
if it were again the days of Alexander. Sind
and Afganistan were humbled, as if Zalezar the
son of Nariman had come to life again ; terror
was struck into the hearts of Pegu and Java.
The lofty pomp of Burmah passed away, and
the pride of Mahomedan Persia was as much
abased as if the day of Ardasheer Babegan had
revived. And besides these the whole of Hin-
doostan was brought under her dominion ; the
power of the princes of all classes was broken.
The Prmce and the Queen enjoyed to the
full the riches and precious things of this world ;
the wealth of their fame in the earth spread
honour and \artue among every race, obtained
* Janges Khan was the chief of the country of Tartaiy .
About the year 1200 he conquered China, and reigned there,
and under his government and that of his successors the
Mahomedan religion spread in that country. This chief was
at first engaged in the humble profession of a blacksmitb,
but being naturally very intelligent and brave he became in
short time a mighty emperor. The native historians of China
state that in the great battles of this hard-hearted chief a mil-
lion men were killed in sixteen days, and this slaughter was
ffdlowcd by a pestilence which destroyed 1)00,000 more.
04
the respect of their own people and of foreigners,
conferred favours and obligations upon the needy,
and gained the love of their friends and com-
panions. Albert was affable to all, and applied
his wisdom to every subject. He possessed such
a store of learning that learned men applied to
him for advice continually.
All the ministers and accomplished statesmen
of the kingdom considered it an honour to ask
his opinion ; by the bright piercing rays of his
judgment he illuminated the beclouded hearts
of hundreds. There was no good Society in
London without his patronage, and so great was
the confidence which England reposed in him
that Parliament made a special law that if (it
being the will of Grod for such a calamity to hap-
pen) the virtuous Victoria should die without
an heir. Prince Albert should be king, that all
England should bow to his authority, that due
respect according to the law should be paid to
him, and all his lawful commands be carried out.
By the passing of such a law the influence of
Albert was greatly increased in every assembly.
65
The story of liis virtues spread in the whole
world, and Germany rejoiced with exceeding joy.
All the poor labourers of England found pa-
tronage, encouragement, and sustenance from
him. He patronised all kinds of industry, for
all claimed his support on one pretext or another.
He paid great attention to education, and took
the lead in advancing the arts. He looked with
favour on all places of learning, and perfected
himself in the knowledge of every science. He
had a fervent love for the indigent, and had no
prejudice against receiving the poor ; loving in-
dustry he was always industrious. He set on
foot a novel scheme which revived the arts of
the whole world, and from which the industrious
derived abundance of profit. In the year 1851,
he accomplished a work at once great and good.
He toiled intensely with body, soul, and intellect ;
and established a great museum, expended upon
it much patience and thought, and drew the atten-
tion of the whole world to it. He gave encour-
agement to every manufacture, and imparted as
it were new life to the world. Day and night he
made great personal exertions in the cause,
9a
66
and by his sagacious measures lie obtained money
for it from the imperial treasury. He assisted
it, moreover, from his own resources. He was
ready in hand and liberal in heart, he collected to-
gether the manufactures of the whole world, and
caused others to admire and patronise whatever
was excellent. He set a value on every thing
according to its workmanship, and distributed
money and goods as prizes, giving also medals
to the most skilful artists. In fine he sought
the welfare of the poor of all countries, and caused
the rich to purchase the products of the industry
of the poor ; and he was successful in carrying
out the whole of his design.
All these things becoming known to the sove-
reigns of the world, the light of Albert's fame
spread every where. He met with similar success
in every other undertaking, and obtained the love
of high and low. A meeting of nobles and peo-
ple from every quarter assembled together, and
expressed their thorough appreciation of Albert's
deeds. In every possible way they showed him
honour, and all praised his wisdom. Albert
then made this reply : —
67
" Before all tilings I tliank the Lord that so-
great and extensive a work has been carried out
in so successful a manner, that great and
learned men like you have continued throughout
it in harmony and unanimity. It indeed be-
comes us to acknowledge, with all our hearts,
our obligations to that God, by whose grace and
mercy and compassion our efforts have been
crowned with success. Our entire aim has been
fulfilled, the mercy of the Lord has been with us
to the end. But let us also beseech Him that tliis^
our good and benevolent midertaking may tend
to the profit of the whole world, and that the
labourers of all nations may become more and
more skilful, may be able to discriminate-
between excellences and defects m all things,.
and that in design and execution they may
greatly improve ; that a spirit of true emulation
may arise in their minds, that they may ^de
with each other in skill,, fight the battles of the
arts with the force of their intellects, and win
fame and wealth in the field? of know-
ledge. Wise men heartily approve of works
of this kind, which produce xjoncord be-
68
tween each other's countries , which enable
one nation to become intimately acquainted
with another, and promote friendship and mutual
esteem between them; bring distant countries
into close relationship, and breathe unity of
sentiment between different tribes and races.
Tliis event must be considered good ; the rays of
its goodness will diffuse themselves throughout
all time, the darkness of folly will be removed,
and the people of the world will obtain profit
and joy."
— KTjJ^iO.
Lhapter VL
-<K>J»ie
Prince Albert becomes president and patron of several public
bodies, and takes the Queen to his native country.
In tliis way lie was always engaged giving his
valuable aid to every good work. He took a
leading part in many public meetings, and always
made effective speeclies. His voice was soft and
musical, his style elegant and attractive, every
sentence was full of eloquence, in which shone
forth the Kght of even-handed justice. Some
felt his frank speaking to be distasteful,^'' but
the wise heartily approved of it. Were we to give
* "The late Prince Albert was connected with every useful
])ublic body in England, becoming their patron ; was con-
stantly engaged in beneficent works, and made very powerful
speeches. Besides Wellington College, and the Horticultural
Society, many other institutions were greatly improved and
rendered more stable under his presidentship. The speeches
he made were collected and pu])lished by the Society of Arts,
at the suggestion of Lord Ashburton, in the year I8i>7, and
are well worthy of perusal. His speech was so fair and im-
70
an account of liis speeches it would be tediously
lono-. AYere we to write the details of Ms actions
and conduct, there would be need of another
volume ; therefore having given the above few
particulars of them, we pass on. If by the grace
of God our life lasts, our hcarfs desire he granted
lis, and our health of body and mind preserved,
partial that, more than once it drew upon him the wrath and
disapprobation of several great men of England, as well as of
the bishops and clergy of the Roman Catholic church. The
great and honourable position of Chancellor of the University
of Cambridge had been held by the Duke of Cumberland, but
he died in 1847, and it was the wish of all the clergy and the
ministers of religion of high rank that Earl Powis, a renowned,
learned and influential nobleman, should be appointed in his
room, and they lost no opportunity of using their influence to
carry out their purpose ; but the people of England had so
high an opinion of Prince Albert's learning, wisdom and suavity
of manners, that when a large public meeting was called and
votes were taken as to the appointment to the Chancellorship
abovementioned, Earl Powis obtained 837 and Prince Albert
953, and on the 6th July when the ceremony of his induction
into the office took place, there was a great gathering, Her
most excellent Majesty Victoria, and the kings and princes
of several foreign countries, as well as all the great ministers
of state being present. By this Albert was greatly delighted,
and he continued to the last hour of his life to introduce,
after considerable pains, and to carry out by the strength
of his intellect and wisdom, many improvements and reforms
in matters relating to that University."
71
if jjarticulars 'worthy of the subject he ohtamed,
if the Government, filled ivith justice, continue
gracious, we will again give our attention to this
subject.
lu 1843 a desire came into the heart of
Albert to visit his lovely native country,
whereupon he spoke these words to the Queen ;
" virtuous, heart-charming lady, the crown of
all the men and women of this world, I have a
wish that we should all go to Germany, and see
again the sights of bygone days : we shall find
companions and friends and loving ones, and
shall be dehghted with the scenery of the coun-
try. How much longer time shall we pass in a
single place. There is no trusting this short
life, nothing lasts here for ever, there is no plea-
sure in the world like that derived from an
excursion ; there is no love like the love of
one's own country. Therefore be then quickly
ready, and be willing with body and soul to
travel." Wlien the Queen heard these words she
heartily complied with his wishes. She made
preparations suitable to her royal position, and
wrote and did all tliat was necessary.
72
Having fixed upon an auspicious day
tliey commenced their journey, and were borne
along by a horse of fire. As the arrow flies
from the bow, or as the torrent rushes in the
tempest, so went forth that steed of fire puffing
forth steam from within him ; step by step he
cleaved the surface of the waves, made the sea
foam with passion, and the-plain of the ocean to
quake beneath his rapid strides. He was furious
as a leopard, destroying the inhabitants of the
deep ; he broke through the ranks of hundreds
of whales, the waters of the sea stood aside doing
obeisance to him. Tossing his head, he pressed
forward incessantly night and day ; and reaching
his destination safely and securely, arrived at
the appointed place, and finished with joy the
passage of the sea.
The royal pair landed on the shore : crowds of
people gathered to see them, all gave them due
honour ; and, taking up their abode in the royal
palace, they remained for some days in the City
of Grotha. Albert felt the ground of his native
country dear to him ; they visited every village
and field, and wood : with every scene the Queen
73
was delighted. When they saw the land of
Rosina, the pleasant grief of past remembrance
came to the heart of Albert ! A stream of tears
flowed from his eyes, when he remembered the
scenes of his childhood. Seeing the place of his
birth, the ground he had played in, the trees
he had climbed, the fountains he had bathed in,
the rose gardens of his delight,* the plains,
the woods, the lengthy roads, the pure rivers,
the clear brooks and the lofty mountains ; he
wept with sobs and sighs. Then collecting
himself he spoke thus : —
SOI^G.
Thousand thanks that I have seen to-day,
My fatherland, O beloved.
The dry narcissuses have found the bloom of spring again.
The message of hope has come to this broken heart again.
The withered rosary of this body has.
As it were, become fresh again.
Wherever my beloved one will place her blessed footsteps,
There, in exceeding fragrance, will spring up roses and tulips.
O my country ! I forgot thee not, at length I came back to thee.
* It is said that Prince Albert possessed great proficiency
and skill in gymnastic exercises, as well as in the use of arms
and in hunting. Once or twice he suffered from sickness in
ronsequence of excessive fatigue from hunting.
10 A
74
The bird of my heart is caught in thy love
As the prey of the hunter.
When my eyes fell upon thy Joseph-like face,
In my soul, as in Zuleika, arose the intoxication of love.
O happy minded brother, consider base the soul of him
In whose heart dwelleth not the love of his native country.
The Prince bestowed tlie love of his heart
upon his country, and showed the Queen all its
varied sights, with which, as they passed in their
journey over the mountains, she felt truly de-
lighted. AYlien they reached their final resting
place, all people, high and low, came forth to
meet them. Afterwards Victoria and Albert
interchanged visits with their relations and
friends, bestowed on the poor alms and gifts,
and engaged themselves in deeds of charity and
benevolence. Then both these renowned ones
returned, and arrived in England in safety,
where, seeing their faces, their subjects felt
delighted.
--S54yS*®v©^'^^
Chapter VII.
Albert gives his eldest son necessary education, and imparts
to him counsels and advice worthy of his royal station.
In this manner several years passed, and Al-
bert lived with Victoria in perfect happiness,
and showed deference to the will of his beloved
one. His advice made the old man yonthful.
With justice lie tied the hands of wicked-
ness, with understanding he made broad
the path of religion, with the good he talked
ably ; the vicious trembled from fear of him ;
the poor worshipped the dust of his feet. He
kept his heart pure with thoughts of God.
He stood aloof from affairs of state, lie imparted
to his children the light of knowledge, cautioned
them on every subject, led them to shun what
was bad, aud to embrace wliat was good. He
Ijcstowcd gifts with a father's love, and showed
favour to tliem in every thing. One day he
76
called Ills eldest son, tlie sight of whose face
raised his hopes, and lifting u}) his eyes to the
lofty heavens, he said : beneficent Giver, Thy
favours to me are innumerable, my heart is
overwhelmed with Tliy fear, continue to me Thy
wonted aid, and ^preserve my honour and reputa-
tion ; he Thou the Guide of this my son, fortify
him witli eoery virtue,
HYMN.
hearer of prayer, hear my petition !
1 seek Thy will alone.
(O hearer of prayer.)
jNIaiiy a day and night have I wandered in the world,
But never found I one who wanted not, save Thee.
(O hearer of prayer.)
Remaining a companion with him here, keep in good paths
This only hope of my heart, my son.
(O hearer of prayer.)
In things temporal and spiritual give him Thy aid.
Considering him by nature poor, be gracious unto him.
(0 hearer of prayer.)
Lord of all power ! remove dangers from him,
Putting away pain of body, create in him happiness of
mind.
(O hearer of prayer.)
Then he said to his son, O good son, now that
thy years have become ripe, thy mother has
11
great hopes of thee, all England places depend-
ence upon tliee. The coming time will try thee,
and test whether thou art amber or straw,
whether thou art a pearl having externally a
royal shell, or whether thou art merely an outside
glitter, being within false and base. Therefore my
son, open thine eyes and ears ; seeing and hearing',
understand this world of cares. Reading, bring-
to thy memory past events ; learn from history
the stories of thy ancestors, and see how the
people of the world have judged them after their
death ; how they have sung their virtues, and
how their vices ; and learn therefi'om the Pro-
^ddence of God, what is the end ofvirtueor vice,
how one brings a good name and the other dis-
grace. Besides this it is my duty also to im-
part to thee a knowledge of the world in every
thing. Ha^dng educated and tramed thee, I have
made thee ready ; like a parrot thy mouth speaks,
but I do not see yet any sign that thy heart
is enlightened with wisdom. Thy age is yet
very tender ; thy understanding seems yet very
deficient ; tlierefore hear thou these my words :
arouse from slotli tliy bodj- and spirit, and
78
know that in the fiekl of tliis worhl good and
evil of every kind are sown, but the plant wliich
grows high in virtue becomes a power in the
community ; it obtains throne and crown and
might, gives the protection of its shade to others ;
with the water of justice quenches the fire of the
oppressor, and nourishes plants pleasing to the
hearts of all, from which can be culled most pre-
cious fruits, making the world delightful ; it es-
tablishes the root of virtue upon earth, and obtains
the love of God and man. But in the man who
aspires after such a position as this, every vTirtuous
quahty is required, his mind must be stored
with the sweet words of counsel and. warning.
Attend thou then to the learnmg of bygone
scholars ; the wise man who acts in accordance
with this does not meet in the world with
curses and losses ; it is as it were a treasury of
happiness for this life, which beneficent philo-
sophers give without charge. Those who do
not store their minds with this treasure never
obtain, in this world, virtue or friendship. I give
thee this advice for thy fuiture guidance, which
the wise and the ignorant alike may understand.
79
Words of advice spoken by Albert to his eldest son,
the Prince of Wales.
(About Industry and paiuitaking.)
my son, always be industrious, in good
labours thou wilt find no loss ; only tlioso
wlio labour are truly fortunate. The labour of
the body gives enjoyment to the soul. As a
diamond does not come forth miless the stone
is broken, so none can get name or honour
without toil. As a pen is useless for writing
except it be pointed, so without industry none
will obtain any profit in the world. On him
who keeps his hands in constant use, honour
and wealth are showered, but wealth has no
connexion with idleness, the mouth of an idle
man is shut. Wealth does not depend on fate,
wealth is only a firm companion of industry.
The various forms of industry and toil in this
world are the wards of the key of honour and
wealth ; he from whose body drops the sweat
of toil, gets from the dry dust abundance of
wealth and honour ; therefore, son, never re-
main unemployed ; and having toiled, acknow-
ledge thy obligation to the Lord.
80
(About preserving a contented mind.)
Tliere is nothing better than contentment :
let thy heart be satisfied even npon a dry crust.
He whose mind's eye is satisfied with the things
on the surface of the tray of this world, will be
exalted in the end ; in the sea of giving and
receiving he will remain full of brightness,
as a pearl, which exists without water and
air. Know the man who is contented to be
a tree brinofinsr forth flowers and fruits in
all the four seasons. A heart with empty hands
should be filled with contentment, for a hollow
flute played by a Lokman * subdues a warrior.
A contented man is not harassed with difficul-
ties, as the lustre of a pearl is not lost in a
famine. Patience opens the gates of fortune,
impatience brings upon the head the stones
of grief; by patience a stone is converted
into a millstone, which by grinding prepares
food for the contented man. The just Lord
is so merciful that he supplies all according
to their necessities, he gives as many grains
* A famous musician.
81
to cacli ear of corn as there are husky cells
to receive them. The virtue of contentment
is not general among the people of the world.
Mankind from the beginning have a desire to
obtain more and more. When the sucking child
has sucked one breast it stretches its hand
to the other. He who contentedly drinks the
blood of his heart, will, like a ruby, possess
value and greatness. A contented man does
not possess avaricious desu^es. Homa is not
caught in a net as a prey, through looking
at grain. Contentment shuts the lips against
slanderous questions. The brave man who
reposes upon the strength of the Lord, has
his desires accomplished in both the worlds.
As Solomon obtained victories by putting on
a rino-,* so he who will rivet the atten-
tion of body and mind upon contentment
will obtain a dignified position, spiritually and
* It is said of king Solomon that he had a wonderful ring,
which he put on his finger whenever he wanted to get a
victory, and having done so he obtained the victory. In
the above passage the allusion is to show that the man who
possesses contentment will acconij)lish all things, and obtain
greatness
11 A
82
temporally. Consider the contented man a true
alchymist, for by patience lie turns the dry dust
into gold. As Homa would not eat out of the
mouth of a dog, so a contented man would not
desire a boon from an avaricious one. Patience
gives victory over difficulties, patience gives
hope to the hopeless ; by patience imperishable
treasures are obtained, by patience stone is turned
into diamonds, by patience innumerable dangers
are avoided : all locks can be opened with the
key of patience.
(About truth or veracity.)
God is a lover of straightforward conduct.
By crooked courses man is ruined, through grow-
ing crookedly thorns come on the body of the
rose tree, through growing straight the sugar-
cane is filled with sweetness. No man falls into
distress by straightforward conduct, but by it
remains ever happy ; his mind and body bloom
in every season, even calamity has no effect upon
him. The face of him who raises high the
banner of truth remains lustrous as the sun.
There is such protection under the guidance of
83
truth that even a man blmd in body and mind
may find the proper path ; from even the lowest
depths of the sea he may obtain deliverance and
may ride upon the highest of the heavens. If in
the bent bow of a man's mouth there is the pointed
arrow of a fitting tongue, all the virtuous will
give him honour, and having placed him above
their heads will devote their Hves to him.
(On Lying.)
virtuous son, never speak thou an untruth.
Bankers throw away all false coins. Know tliat
the filth of sinful works exists in the heart of
him whose tongue is defiled with lying, and the
lamp of his soul is never bright. The flame of
a crooked lamp soon goes out, so by untruthful-
ness all honour is cast to the winds.
(On concealing the faults of others.)
That robe gives grace to a man which covers
without pi'oclaiming the defects of the garments
underneath. Keep thine eye shut as regards the
faults of other men, for by so doing thy own
virtue will be preserved. The naked man, who
84
does not cover his own body, does not see any
reasonableness in the complaints of other people.
Shame and disgrace fall upon a backbiter; a
wi'iting reed, which is double-tongued, is
always kept cut. Never divulge the secrets
of others, even though thou wert hundred-
tongued ; as the eye, the pupil of which remains
silent, for in divulging the secrets of others there
is great crime. As the touchstone, after de-
claring metal to be base gold, becomes black,
so the man who exj^oses another's fault, becomes
himself ignominious. Learn this lesson from
the pupil of the eye, seeing bad or good, say no-
thing at all. Consider him truly pious who by
his virtues only makes himself a residence in the
hearts of mankind. By spitting upon the heavens
thou thyself will be spit upon ; by slandering good
people thou thyself wilt be abased. To make a
useless noise by being a picker of faults is alto-
gether dishonourable to a man ; to bark behind
one is the work of worthless dogs, the wise
are not defamed by such conduct. There is true
honour in seeing one's own faults, and much
goodness in not seeing the faults of others.
85
(On the beauty of humility.)
Before the honourable show thou humihty ;
wherever there is an arch, truly thou must bend.
Humility will preserve thy life from oppression.
No injury is done to cotton by a sword, but when
soft water becomes a hard pearl it is troubled
day and night with the fear of being pierced
through. There is no better devotion than
profound submission; haughtiness has, as it
were, no life m this world. Truly wise men are
modest in their speech, as the mouths of bottles
full of wine are shut. If thou wishest the old
and the young should be thy friends, keep not
thy body straight as an arrow, but keep
thyself bent as a fruitful bough bestowing loads
of favours upon the needy. Nature has given
thee a teethy millstone, therefore ruminate and
make thy speech tender. A weak swimmer makes
a sign by lifting up his hand, so know him to be a
wise man who acknowledges his own weakness.
As soft milk melts hard sugar, so sweet words
dissolve anger. If thou remain flexible as the
string of a rosary, thou wilt conquer difficulties
86
moment after moment. Humility finds a home
in the hearts of people, as a fine thread
enters the eye of a needle ; as a thread be-
comes a vein in the body of a pearl, so a wise
man cherishes humility. Worshipping people
lay their heads upon the ground, but do thou
place that low which is inside the head. The
whole of God's law may be on thy lips, but if
the de\dl be in thy heart how will the evil
be remedied ? Never practise in any way self-
exaltation, for the exalter of self never attains to
eminence. Loving not thyself obtains the love
of others; not receiving any injury, do good to
others. Wliere there is humility there is an
indication of good origin, even as by its flexi-
bility a sword is known to be of fine temper.
AVlien through humility this earth becomes dust,
the heavens paint their eyes as with coUyrium.
He whose outward height is little will have a
correspondingly small share of grief and fear.
"SYlien the fury of the wind falls upon trees the
growing reed remains happy and tranquil. A
man of low origin may be as high as the sun, but
the taint of meanness will never go from his heart.
87
If the heavens were not bent with humihty, they
would not be in every place above this world.
Wlien a dry grain becomes as dust, growing and
blooming, it supports the living creatures of the
earth. By humility difficult works become easy.
A painter draws a picture of a mountain with a
hair. Nature has given such honour to the soft
dew that the sun lifts it on high with the wire
of its ray. If thou wishest to receive much
honour in weighing thyself with others, make
thyself less.
(On the advantages of travelling.)
The wise are much benefited by travels. As
a polisher of metals cleans off rust, so by
travelling a man becomes polished and refined ;
the taint of an evil destiny is removed by travel-
ling. By travelling the qualities of the good and
bad are brought to light : as long as an arrow
remains concealed in the quiver, so long it does
not appear to others whether it is exactly straight
or crooked, but when having come forth from its
recess, and rested on the bow, it goes towards
a spot aimed at, its excellence or defect is per-
ceived. Had Joseph not left his own country how
88
would Zuloika have been enamoured of him ? and
liow would lie have attained a royal position upon
earth ? On those who are fond of remaining in
their own country, various sorts of evils fall.
As long as a rose remains attached to its branch
it suffers annoyance from the piercing thorn.
A traveller is always entertained with amuse-
ments, and by experience he attains to perfection.
By travelling, sympathy for man is acquired ; to
the enterprising man his own country is a pri-
soner's cell. As long as a gem is shut up in its
stone, nobody knows its worth or value, so he who
abides only in his own country will never obtain
praise or worldly greatness. As long as a cor-
nelian remains in the country of Yemen its full
value or price is not discovered. Were growing
trees to take a journey, the saw would not cut
their body or head. Without travelling intelli-
gence is not made manifest, just as words are
only formed when the breath issues forth. Wlien
a disagreeable man leaves his own country and
goes elsewhere, he becomes beloved. Learned
men never rest in their own country. Rij3e
fruits abandon the branch and the tree.
89
(On purity of heart.)
Tliere is nothing better than a pure heart.
He who fights against a pure heart will in the
end repent ; he who dashes against a dagger will
assuredly be pierced. As there is no darkness
in the eye of the sun, so no filth of revenge
dwells in a pure heart. As the rays of the sun are
the dress of the morning, so in the heart of a
pure man there dwells the brightness of light.
As the heart of a mirror cannot be scratched
with the finger nail, so it is utterly useless to
fight against a simple-hearted man. As quick-
silver does not stand still on a plate of glass, so
does not revenge rest in a pure bosom. A pure
heart does not require worldly armour : one pure
heart is proof against a hundred warriors. A
true heart is not injured by slander, as smoke
does not remain in a l^right lamp. Without a
pure heart strength of body is vain ; with a rusty
sword slaughter cannot be effected. A pure
hearted man sees all his works ; through purity
only the eyes see all things from a distance.
As there is no flood of rains in the sea, so there
12 a
90
is no revenge in the pure heart of a friend against
a friend. A pure heart becomes a mirror for
the face of a friend. A pure-hearted man is a
friend to every one, as a mirror gladdens all
people alike by reflecting their faces. Be on
thy guard agamst deceiving a pure heart ; by
breathing upon a mirror thou wilt see darkness.
(On the cunning and craftiness of enemies.)
Never trust in the soft speech of an enemy, for
the bent bow is ready for its prey. As death
does not show forbearance to an old man, so the
receiving of reverence does not save one's life from
an enemy. He who reposes trust in the soft speech
of an enemy is considered in the world perfectly
senseless. The water of the flood, which falls
beneath the feet, razes buildings to the ground
in a moment ; the axe which kisses the feet of
the tree, in the end cuts ofi" its body, its head, and
its branches. Wlien the haughty yields before
thy strength, never repose confidence in him, for
a gentle fire will still do fire's work ; where from
inadvertence it falls it will burn every thing. A
soft exterior may be hard within ; in soft cotton
91
there are the knots of its hard seeds. As a hunter,
stooping, seeks for prey, so a deceiver, bending,
performs obeisance. Be ever on thy guard
against the union of thy enemies : ants united
can wreak vengeance upon a tiger. If a wicked
enemy speak soft words, then know thou the
contrary, that he is plotting : know that in a soft
morsel there may be a hard bone, which will
hurt the throat suddenly. Never be incautious
after the defeat of an enemy ; beneath the grass
there is often a pit for destruction.
(On liberality and the liberal man.)
True liberahty is true righteousness ; in true
liberahty there is infinite virtue. That is libera-
hty which does not expect any return, in inter-
ested liberality there is sin. He who expends gold
to make his own name, will be unapproved in the
courts of the Lord. As in one sprinkling the cloud
fills the shell, so do truly liberal men give relief
to the needy. By favours a wicked man finds
calmness ; a satisfied stomach is a chain to the
temper of a tiger. The hand of the liberal man
92
Avho expends liis wealth on good objects, sliall,
like the sea, never be emptied. If the Lord has
bestowed on thee the blessing of wealth, be not
negligent in finding out the condition of thy
friends . Never murmur while showing liberality,
and do not sigh if thanks are withheld. Abandon-
ment of wealth and property is not liberahty :
by giving to the needy thou wilt attain to heaven.
If thou hast wealth, show kindness to the needy:
wealth, hoarded in a cell, mil neverbecomeamine.
If thou improve the condition of the poor by
thy wealth, thou wilt be delighted with happmess
in the future world ; the rich man who does not
sympathise with the distresses of the poor, im-
perceptibly throws his wealth into air ; but the
wealthy man who lends a helping hand to the
afflicted, remains in the world firm and immove-
ble. AYealth is a lantern, but liberality is a
lamp around which is the greatest true happi-
ness. Grenerally the works of the people con-
tinue shut up like a bud : as the breath of spring,
do thou open them. Keep the mouth of thy
purse open like a rose, do not keep gold shut up
like a bud. He is good who becomes a patron
93
of the good, he is truly heroic who hfts up the
fallen. If thou wouldst possess true manliness
be thou generous. He is truly a man who is lord
over the lust of self. On the forehead of him
who hfts up his foot and kicks the fallen, clings
the brand of unmanliness. If thou canst with
thy own nails loosen the knot of any one,
do not wait for the help of others. If thou
dost not wish to have the help of a stick in
thy old age, in thy youth hold the hand of the
fallen. Charity is a coverer of every fault, parsi-
mony is the destro^^er of wisdom and skill.
As the clouds sprinkle precious water without
charge, and do not make any distinction
between a bamboo and a sugarcane, so do liberal
men go on gi^ang good gifts, considering the
good and bad alike. Truly charity is precious
in the world, nevertheless in it these two points
are above all : First, to give before asking ; and
secondly, to impose no obligation upon the re-
ceiver. As the beam of a balance Hfts up the
scales hanging low, so he who possesses na-
turally a large heart lifts up the fallen ones, and
makes tliem stand erect. As tlie rain falls
94
upon tlie rose and thorn alike, so do tliou
look with an equal eye upon all. As after
scattering pearls the rain does not wait for a
return ; so, truly liberal men see greatness only
in giving. Every one eats bread in the world
according to his destiny, the generous Lord is
the author of all good things ; if thou hast
understanding, be thou the means of distribut-
ing them. Be thou here prominent as the sun,
that, after thou art set, the world may be black
with mourning. By conferring favours, sleeping
wealth becomes awake, as the uiactive brain
becomes quickened by a sneeze. As, for the
good of others, the lamp rides the whole night in
fire and water, so do thou spend thy body and
mind, day and night, to be an alleviator of the
griefs of others. As the rose holds gold in its open
hand, so hold thou thy head in the palm of thy
hand, for the sake of thy friend. He who, with-
out seeking his own profit, undertakes the sup-
port of a bhnd man, procures the falling of the
hand of blessing upon all his works. Man's true
greatness consists in giving, and God's full bless-
ing is bestowed upon this service.
95
(On the evils of avarice.)
The hope of an avaricious man clings to gold,
the bounties of the world can never quench his
thirst. As a fish with many scales has numerous
bones, so is there a great weight of anxiety on
the heart of a wealthy man. As it is a well known
habit of some foppish men to take more care of
their hats than of their heads, so wealth is dearer
to misers than then' own souls. They neglect
their souls to preserve their gold. Kahrun* in his
avarice, went into the depths of the sea to ob-
tain wealth from the belly of a fish. If any one
wishes to live happily he must banish avarice
from his heart altogether. An avaricious man
cannot be brave hearted. The slave of avarice
requires no chains : honey even is the means of
the death of flies. As the belly of the hungry
cannot be filled without eating, so an avaricious
man can never be satisfied without riches.
* A notorious miser of the East.
o:*:o«-
96
(On the evil of niggardliness.)
A miser with infinite care weaves a net for
gold, and makes tlie bird of his soul captive in
avarice. There is a saying all over the earth
against misers, " With the blood of misers hands
would not be reddened." The condition of no-
thing is so bad as that of the hoarded wealth of
the miser. The gold of a miser lifts up its
voice in complaint and murmuring, and casts
ashes on its body for grief every moment. As
labourers lift up the bags of money, so misers
labour after gold, fruitlessly. It is a peculiarity
natural to misers to give abuse to the needy when
they ask any thing of them. A miser becomes
such an enemy to the world that nobody laments
his death. A painted moon does not give light,
so liberality is naturally far away from a miser.
As when filth is collected in a cesspool wise and
sensible men keep away from it, so when a mean
man becomes filled with money, keep thyself
aloof from liis company. A dog cannot rival
Homa, though a dog is also fond of bones.
Man's heart is the mirror of all secrets ; it is a
97
pity that with a seeing eye a maji becomes
bhnd. As the meshes of a net cannot be filled
with dry dust, so a niggardly man cannot be
satisfied by a profusion of bounties.
(On the Excellence of Justice and Equity.)
Justice and equity are required in a kmg, that
all his subjects may be gladdened by their
beauty. One hom-'s justice is thought better
than a hundred years of life to an emperoi*.
By the influence of justice a country prospers,
by justice only the throne of the sovereign is
established, by justice only the name of a king-
endures. He who dispenses a moment's justice
in this world makes his eternal happiness secure
in the next.
(On the evil of Tyranny.)
Never remain ignorant of thy own affairs ; do
not live senselessly in the world. If under false
pretences thou oppress others, wise men will
abhor thee. An act of oppression brings sorrow
13 A
1)8
•
of mind. Do not think an evil thought of this
kind, that there is no voice in a broken-hearted
being, for its voice will be lifted up in the day of
judgment, and in the next world it will make
thee completely miserable. When a king with-
draws his hands from oppression, his life is
prolonged by the blessings of the people. As a
chain itself endures perpetual bondage, so an
annoy er of the aflQicted will never see happiness.
Do not expect any thing but oppression from an
oppressor ; in burning mountains there is essen-
tially a fiery nature. A poisonous tree does not
bear sweet fruits, every thing exists according
to its peculiar kind. As if a sword breaks, it
turns into a dagger, so a tyrannous man will
always be a cruel tyrant. As the walking of a
scorpion brings destruction upon itself, so the
wickedness of the wicked brings about their
own ruin. An oppressor can never become happy
by his evil deeds, any more than a bee can ever
get to taste a drop of its own honey. As the
house of the bee is digged out and becomes a
lamp, so when the house and possession of an
oppressor are destroyed, people put up bright
99
lamps there, aud pronounce upon liim curses and'
imprecations. Do not cast tlie fire of oppression
upon tlie fallen, for lightning striking the ground
becomes destroyed. As the rapidity of a flood
shortens it own existence, so upon the oppressor
himself is the effect of his oppression.
(About Fiieuds.)
As a weak eye obtains strength from spectacles,
so he who keeps company with a pure hearted
man would obtain sight even if he were blind.
As is one's company, so are his thoughts ; in
the company of the tulip the dew becomes red ;
in the company of the good there is great
virtue. By association with Homa bones be-
come of value. Solitude makes a man truly
intelligent, but it is by good company only
that he becomes perfect. We may be bruised
like grains with a millstone, but from a suit-
able hearted friend we should never separate.
To the bad the company of the good is like
armour, the arrows of the evil have no effect
upon him. As the wick of the heart of a candle
100
burns, so if friends burn together in tlieir hearts
and become of one opinion, the lamp of each one's
fortune will be bright, and the darkness of mis-
fortune be altogether removed. Do not abandon
thy friends and live solitary, for solitude does not
comport with any, save Grod. K thou desirest
happiness, temporal and eternal, never turn thy
face from a virtuous friend ; when the hand re-
moves the wire from tumhura, it loses its heart-
attracting tunes ; by the company of the good
a good influence is exerted : a gem makes a brass
ring precious. Upon the truly virtuous no effect
is wronght by the v,dcked, as the salt sea does
not affect the lustre of a pearl. The worthy are
affected by the worthy, the fragrance of the rose
does not descend into the branch.
(On the evil of bad company.)
The young man who sits with women will
paint his own face with the colour of shame.
Bad company brings distress upon a well disposed
man, as a broken leg i3revents the motion of the
whole body. By companionship with a coward.
101
tlie brave loses liis courage ; liis liouoiir, self-
respect, and reputation, all depart. If a fire, a
hundred years old, comes in contact with water,
its heat will be destroyed in a moment ; so the
life-long virtue of a good man flies away in one
hour by companionship with an evil one : the
sun shining with boundless splendour is hidden
by the mtervention of a single cloud. If any
one becomes thy friend on account of thy external
circumstances, never place confidence in him, but
consider such friendship like the reflection in a
mirror, which will be faithful only just as long as
it is seen. The sinful do not become holy by the
company of the wtuous, as the effect of poison
is not removed bv suo;ar. As when fire and
water come in contact a struggle arises instantly,
so no union can last between two opposite-tem-
pered men. Be upon thy guard with an evil
man, continue towards him as a stranger, for thou
wilt fall into a net if thou eat a grain of food
with him. As when the bow is bent the arrow
abandons its companion, and goes straight off
through hundreds of yards of space, and as when
one scale of a balance receives a slight weight it
102
forsakes its old companion ; so the unfaithfulness
of a naturall}^ bad companion, will lead him, on
a slight pretext, to give up thy friendship. In
the company of the rich thou wilt not see any
good, as in the company of the pearl the thread
remains unsteady. As in the cold season the
black night is lengthened, so in the company of
the afflicted afflictions increase. As the life of
the thread in the needle grows less, so in the
company of the narrow-minded a man loses his
feeling of compassion. As the bright morning
flies from the night, so fly thou from the hands
of the black-hearted.
-oo^^oo-
(On Riches ; tlie rich man ; and poverty.)
Verily in the garden of the world there are
people ever weeping from the pain of empty
hands ; their blood boils in their hearts as roses
are boiled to make rosewater. They pass their
time in swallowing gulps of blood. The holy
mendicant dwelling in a temple burns with his
heart like a candle, in the hope of gold. Scho-
lars, learned men, and devoted worshippers.
103
without gold, endure the affliction of poverty.
The gold of this world is so heart-charming that
the teachers of rehgion sell for it the pearl of
their pure conscience. By money a bad and
obscure name blooms, and the base performs
great works. He who keeps money ready in his
pocket, finds lustre like the light in the eyes of
the peo^^le. Wlien a bottle is filled with wine
every body's arm is thrown aroimd its neck, but
when it is empty nobody looks at it. Know thou
this to be the state of the poor ; a brother does
not look at a brother without money ; a maid
forgets her lover if he possesses not money ; but
strangers with wealth become the relations of
rich men, for golden flowers find places on the
head. Poor men sell their goods cheap only,
by nature their fortune is of small value. The
greatest business of the world is gold ; the richer
a man is, the wiser he is held to be. The thing
that makes men lion-like and brutish in disposi-
tion is poverty, poverty, yea poverty ! As fishes
without scales are considered unclean, so when
wealth is lacking all vices come out. Money is
the cure for the poison of intense grief, money
104
soothes affliction and burning. Tlic faults of
the man who scatters money out of his pocket
are hidden and screened. The dust of the hand
hokting gold is like surma applied to the eye,
and the smoke of gold's lamp seems like light.
On account of money only the poor suffer afflic-
tion ; in the lamp of the poor there is always a
flickering. The gold coloured wax in the ear
teaches this one thing, that wherever there is
gold, lend thy ears.
As long as thou hast gold in thy hand as
the rose, hundreds of nightingales will continue
devoted to thee. As empty bottles are thrown
upon the shelf, and nobody casts more than a
glance at them, so if a poor man sits in an exalted
position the whole community regard him only
with contempt. Baseness is never perceived in a
rich man. Money alone is lord over all things.
Debt abases the dignity of man, the debtor
becomes light and the debt heavy.
oX«c
105
(la imitation of an Ode of Kubeer.)
The whole play is of money,
Of all things money is the dearest. J
By money is wife, by money sons,
By money kith and kin ;
By money a companion keeps companionship,
Bv money come relations and friends.
(The whole play, &c.)
By money religion, by money devotion.
By money goodness ;
By money kings reign,
By money they make war.
(The whole play, &c.)
All are enamoured with money only,
None with the heart.
By money one's nature is determined.
Without money his state is miserable.
(The whole play, &c.)
If money for food and clothing is found,
The wife holds her hands respectfully.
If but one day food is not given,
She gives back impertinent answers.
(The whole play, &c.)
Brothers, sisters, family connections.
All are brethren of money.
But when a companion dwells with the heart in affliction.
Consider his to be true faithfulness.
(The whole play, &c.)
14 A
106
(A Collection of Counsels worthy of Royalty.)
1 . son, remember that evils arising in a
kingdom are like unto evils engendered in the
body of man. As sundry evils of a kingdom are
removed by threats, by chastisement, and by
bestowing praise, so the body is cleansed of its
e^dls by medicine, by surgery, or by plastering.
In both cases it is a duty of paramount importance
to choose means according to the nature of
the evil, and it should be the aim of all true
physicians and statesmen to remove first and
thoroughly the source from which the evil arises,
whatever that source may be, so that consequent
evils may be averted.
2. A person who is naturally jocular or one
of a very hot temper must not be made head of an
army. From a chief of a joking disposition sol-
diers learn to show disrespect and disobedience,
and instead of doing a thing at a critical time
they begin to laugh and joke. Also a man
of very hot and cruel temper should not be
appointed, for under such a chief the army is
obliged to remain in fear of corporal punishment
and fatigue ; and consequently, being disaffected,
107
they consider it lawful to forget the right of the
king to their gratitude and deference.
3. In a king jocularity and a tendency to
laughter and jesting are not at all desirable ;
since through these he is not able to preserve
his dignity and majesty before his servants
and enemies ; similarly haughtiness and melan-
choly are undesirable, because on account of
these friends and lovers of justice shrink from
making their requests and wants known to him,
and injury is gradually done to him.
4. As physicians take fees as rightful earn-
ings for preserving the health of mankind, or
for impro^dng the wasted condition of any
sick man, so in return for protecting their
country and for preventing quarrels, kings draw
money from their subjects in the shape of taxes,
fourths, rents, and other kinds of impositions ;
and this is just.
5. It is necessary to a king when he sends
an ambassador to a foreign court that the am-
bassador be fluent, swift in speech, truth loving,
mild tempered, and able to describe things dis-
108
tinctly; because an ambassador is, as it were,
the tongue of a king, and through his sweet and
suitable speech, the heart of the foreign king
becomes well disposed to his master.
6. Engage frequently in secret consultation
with persons who are wise and patient, sensi-
ble, quick minded, and experienced, with habits
of forethought, and sterling honesty : unite
them in subjects worthy to be kept as secrets,
and in the things of thy heart unite them ; be-
cause from doing this a good name and num-
berless advantaa;es will accrue to thee.
7. Having bestowed honour upon persons of
pure and holy minds, take care of them, and
maintain regard for them; for in the time of
war, as well as of peace, their prayers will be
of great advantage to thee.
8. Maintain an intimate connection with the
nobles and governors of every district of thy
country, outwardly preserving their dignity, and
reposing full confidence in them; but at the
same time maintaining great vigilance and cau-
tion in reference to their works and behaviour.
109
9. Considering viizeers, secretaries, and trea-
surers as the mirrors of the administration of
thy state, look after them with great thorough-
ness, a,nd without remissness ; for by so doing
the affairs of thy kingdom, the condition of thy
subjects, and of thy army, and the accounts of
thy revenue and expenditure will be known to
and attended to by thee.
10. Always endeavour, by gi\ang encourage-
ment and help to physicians, learned and erudite
men, to improve and increase the health of thy
subjects and the education of their minds ; and
for this purpose keep the doors of thy treasury
open.
11. Kings must keep entirely aloof from
several hurtful things ; as wine, gambling* chess,
and things like them.
12. Kings, while conducting themselves
courteously towards their powerful foes, must
ever keep their weak enemies strongly pressed
down; for if this is done, the powerful enemy will
not suddenly venture to step beyond his own
limits. With every enemy affection should be
no
outwardly maiutained, according to his worth ;
for a powerful king is like an able gardener, his
country being like a garden of fruits and flowers ;
the weak enemies who dwell round about that
country being like the thorns and weeds of that
garden ; and when a powerful king keeps on
terms of friendship with weak kings, beyond a
certain limit, and does not watch over the
cleanhness of his own garden, in a short time
those thorns and weeds increase ; that is, the
weak enemies, having triumphed over the
powerful king, defeat him. And as a good
gardener goes round his garden, and removes
dry grass and withered leaves, makes the
dying plants live with water, that the garden
may look bright and blooming, so does a wise
king go about the country frequently, keep
an eye on the prosperity of his dominions,
remedy with all his heart the state of distressed
subjects, and extinguishing oppression and
tyranny, reign in justice.
13. There are three qualities necessary in
the Commander-in-Chief of an Army ; first, bra-
very ; second, truth ; third, experience in every
Ill
thing ; and without these quahties a chief must
be considered useless.
14. By doing three things a king becomes
negligent, does not do his work aright, and
does not succeed in his wishes ; first, the indul-
gence of lust, or of the company of women ;
second, indulgence of a desire for hoarding up
wealth and property ; third, indulgence in wine
and in eating intoxicating substances.
15. It becomes thee not to commit gi^eat
affairs to men of low birth and poor condition;
for the burden of an elephant can never be lifted
up by an ass.
16. Revenue is like a fountain of water, and
expenditure is like a running river : it becomes
him who wishes to keep the river of expenditure
running, to watch with great vigilance the waters
issuing from the fountain.
17. As a traveller, who thoughtlessly makes
up such a bundle that he can get no man to
carry, is prevented from fulfilling his design ; so
the man who goes on spending without looking
at his income, will at the end be brought to
poverty and starvation.
112
18. A wise king seeks the prosperity of his
subjects, for the prosperity of his subjects
causes the prosperity of his treasury, and by
the prosperity of his treasury the army remains
contented and faithful; by the fidehty of the
army the country obtains glory and peace ; by
the peace of the country, the duties of piety
and religion are kept up ; and when the duties
of religion are kept up, God and the servants
of God are pleased ; and where God is pleased,
there is abundance, and increase of all bounties,
and when there is abundance of bounties, joy
and gladness are universally diffused.
19. It becomes a king not to interfere with
any body's religion, and not to vex the poor ; to
watch over merchants and artizans, and by
patronizing every industrious, skilful, and clever
man, to advance his interests.
20. It becomes a king not to rule otherwise
than justly and truly. There is a proverb,
" A flame of fire mcreases as the wind blows," but
the flame of the fire of kingly oppression is
extinguished by the wind of the sighs of the poor
11
o
and helpless ; that is, the tyrannical career of the
king soon comes to an end.
21. If thou wishest that God should love
thee, it becomes thee not to be ignorant of
that God.
22. Courtesy is necessary to a king, not
haughtiness. Courtesy is a characteristic of
truly pious men, but the attribute of the wicked
is pride. Pride is a quality of fire, and Satan's
essence is of fire ; courtesy, that is affability,
is a quality of dust, and man's origin is of dust.
23. It becomes a king not to make persons
of noble descent and plunderers desperate, by
keeping the former in poverty and the latter
in a starved and wretched state ; because when
a gnat or a moth, by the intoxication of loneliness,
becomes desperate, he clashes with a burning-
lamp ; and sometimes it happens, that instead
of burning himself he extinguishes the lamp.
24. As some of the lusts and passions of
this body are always at war with lusts and pas-
sions of an opposite natui'e, aud in order to keep
down each other's ascendancy, they continue
15 a
114
the contest that the health of the body may be
preserved ; so in order to preserve the dignity
and greatness, the concord and peace, of a
country, a king has to wage war, and to main-
tain struggles with other kings and other people.
25. In this world a king is a divine shadow :
and as the use of a shadow is to cool those who
have suffered from the pain of heat, by taking
them under its protection, so also must a king,
being interested in the existing state of his
subjects, servants and dependants, keep them
full of happiness, under his own protection ; and
as God in his goodness gives daily sustenance
to his servants, so must a king, by making pre-
sents of gold and treasure to his officers and
army, according to their service and worth,
continually promote them to higher positions.
26. As God is true and faithful, so also should
a king be ; he should not tell the secrets of one
officer to another, for if he be unfaithful, his
officers will one day unite themselves, gird their
loins to seek the destruction of the king, and
keep all evil things hidden from him.
27. As God is a dispenser of pardons and
115
a regarder of all persons alike, so should a king
dispense strict justice to every one alike, be lie
lord or beggar, high or low, rich or poor.
28. It becomes a king not to make a man of
haughty and proud disposition a ruler, because
under the rule of such a one disaffected and
rebellious thoughts will spread among his sub-
jects, the subjects forming an opinion of the
whole government of a king from . what they
see of the doings of one oflB.cer. Whether there-
fore the king be bad or good, just or tyrannical,
his subjects will judge him from the conduct of
his officers.
29. From the weak part of the body of man
the canker of disease goes into another part,
whence physicians deem it necessary to apply
medicine to that part, so is it necessary that the
place in the king's dominions whence a quarrel
first arises be first put into perfect order.
30. Merchants are the treasure of a kinof's
o
dominions ; and know that the greater and bettc
r
the care taken of this treasure, the greater the
prosperity. This prosperity is increased in two
116
ways ; first, by good, clean, and safe roads ; and
secondly, tlirougli the king's strict jnstice and
attention to complaints.
31. A king's country is like a beautiful
woman, and the merchants of that country are,
as it were, the precious jewels and ornaments of
that woman; and the more these jewels and
ornaments are, the more heart-charming and
beautiful she looks.
32. Treasury and army both must be taken
care of, as by the abundance of treasure an
army may be increased, so if the army be strong
gold may be obtained. Wise men say that gold
is like honey ; as long as busy bees continue to sit,
and fly over the waxen comb with juice in their
mouths, so long the comb continues to be filled
with honey, but when the bees themselves
forsake the cell and go away, if there were even
hundreds of tons of honey, there would be no
use for it ; so if there be no strong and enterpris-
ing army, the treasure of the whole world would
be of no use.
33. A king is a fountain of running water ;
and his ministers and ofiicers are as it were the
117
rivers and brooks, wliicli issue from tliat foun-
tain. If the water of the fountain is sweet, the
water of those brooks and rivers must be sweet
too, but if that fountain is bitter, all these must
needs also be bitter ; that is, whatever be the
mien and disposition of a king, its influence will
be exercised over all his servants and dependants.
34. A king's heart must be like the clear
glass of a mirror, that charts and pictures of all
the events done in his country or in his court
may by him be easily seen ; that a black African
in the garb of a fairy, or a fairy in the garb of a
black African, may not succeed in any object
he may have in view ; and that whatever may be
the form and colour of any one's conduct it may
appear to hun in its true light.
35. As nature has placed one tongue in the
mouth of a king, so his word should be one ; for
the tongue is as it were a messenger of the heart,
and the heart is a home of love or hatred ;
therefore when a king speaks words of double
meaning, his subjects become distrustful, and
disaffection among friends and hatred among
enemies increase, to such an extent, that in the
118
end, all tlie works of the hands, and all the ar-
rows of design from the palm of the hand, having
fled forth, are cast to the winds.
36. A king reading books of morality must
pay attention to the instructions ; and paying
attention to these things, the more good discus-
sions and inquiries take place, the more advan-
tageous it is, because, the things of morality and
instruction are, as it were, a cultivation, and dis-
cussion is, as it were, water, and the more water
there is in the cultivation the more prosperous
will it be.
37. The more a king's dominions increase,
the more must he grow in worthiness and affa-
bility himself; the more his dignity rises, the
more is it his wisdom to increase his courtesy ;
but if, when his dignity rises, instead of polite-
ness, pride and haughtiness increase, friends will
dislike him and enemies despise him.
38. It becomes a king every morning and
evening to notice attentively the bright sun of
the high heavens; how, notwithstanding his
infinite splendour and majesty, he becomes weak
110
every evening and sets beneath the earth. In
Hke manner shonld a king keep always the
thought of the rise and fall of his country and
dominions in his heart ; and as that sun in his
short career bestows many advantages on this
earth by his hght, so the king, by doing good
and righteous works, should endeavour to keep
his subjects happy and contented.
39. Two quahfications are necessary in a
king; first courage, and secondly a majestic
bearuig, so as to command respect and homage ;
for by courage he can overcome difficulties, and
bring back together his estranged friends ; and by
a majestic bearing he can disperse his assembled
enemies and avert calamities.
40. A king in the time of peace should
always lift up the hand of liberahty, and in the
time of war a hand wielding a sword ; for by the
former he obtains an increase of friends, and by
the latter a diminution of enemies.
41. It becomes a king to keep in his hand
by affection and kindness, the hearts and tongues
of the upper classes, that is of the great and
120
ricli among liis subjects ; for these can keep in
restraint tlie tongues, hearts, and hands, of the
classes beneath them ; as nobody attends to the
cawing of the crow, but all hear the song of the
nightingale.
42. The best guardian of the life and dignity
of a king is his property and treasure. A king
is, as it were, a light, and his property a moth.
As a moth lays down his life for the light, so all
wealth and property can be destroyed for the
safety of the king. The treasures of the king's
friends are, as it were, a sword which possesses
power to fight for the king or to withstand the
attack of the king's enemies.
43. As long as a king does not open the
mouth of his purse, so long will he continue
unable to collect an army. As long as the light
does not shine in an assembly, so long will the
moths not make their appearance.
44. To act unjustly towards friends is the
same in effect as doing a service to enemies.
121
(Counsels in metaphoric verses.)
Consider tliat to be the best of all dispositions,
which hates evil and pride of every sort.
Thread burns brightly when associated with
wax ; as is the company, so is the result.
Do not be off thy guard with a silent enemy ;
an earthquake may succeed a cahn, and destroy
country, houses, and palaces.
With the weak, rebellion is considered foolish :
bottles striking a brass vessel will obtain no
advantage.
Those in whom is perfection do not make
unnecessary noise; the full moon does not
demand the admiration of man.
Burning lamps teach the lesson that they
who lift up theu" heads will be consumed like
their wicks.
Never consider any one inferior to thyself; in
a dark night a small hght is of more service
than a great stick.
Do not be proud of thy ancestry : the image
in the mirror will never be considered a man.
Do not cast an evil eye upon the fallen : the
dust when it rises goes up to the heavens.
Humility is the best accompaniment of a high
position : the dust even goes flying up to the
in A
122
heavens, but tlie bubble that lifts up its head
with haughtiness, becomes utterly annihilated
by the slap of the waves.
Do not cast a contemptuous look upon the
weak : a weak thread may bind together hundreds
of diamonds and roses.
Do not consider it discreditable to sympathise
Avith the state of the helpless : a precious pearl
gives grace to a thread.
A mean man will become proud on obtaining
a high position ; there is more noise in the upper
story than below.
Never consider any work a secret : God knows
the secrets and mysteries of every heart.
That person obtains the rest of both the worlds,
who, while continuing affable towards an enemy,
loves a friend.
Companionship with the wicked makes the
good bad : by the company of fire, wood becomes
fire.
He who makes a show of his own strength is,
as it were, painting a picture on running water.
The water of a flood does not by raging become
a sea, so the straight road never suggests itself
to a violent man.
If thy state here be exalted, better the con-
dition of the weak.
123
As no sugar is required in a mother's milk, so
when there is a flow of love between two, no
outward show of honour and respect is necessary ;
the mutual love of the hearts is enough.
According to their necessities all receive sus-
tenance from God ; a fly comes into the web of
a spider.
As there is no rose tree without thorns, so no
creature exists here without troubles.
The affection of every thing is set on its own
species, if straws see amber they are attracted
towards it.
Were a stupid man even to sew up his eyes
in a book, yet would he not see, even dimly, the
true meaning.
An empty brain cannot think right thoughts ;
a bubble cannot know the extent of the sea.
The needy do not obtain their desire from the
hard-hearted ; the polish of a knife imparts no
lustre to the face of a knife -sharpening machine.
Crooked things can never, by force, become
straight ; a bent bow can never become an
arrow.
The pen may write ever so much every mo-
ment, but it has no joower to understand the
meaning ; so a i^erson who has an empty brain will
expend his efforts and thoughts in vain.
124
From the laugliing of the rose this voice is
heard, " The heart of that man, blooms who holds
forth golden hands."
Like the needle of the compass be thou a
guide ; taking pains thyself, seek the happiness
of others.
Dying is very dreadful to the rich, as it is very
difficult to walk backwards.
A wicked man cannot keep faithful for many
days ; the dregs of wine soon became separate
from the pure hquor.
Like the pieces of chess, life passes away here
unseen ; but as the empty squares of the board
remain, so also do evil works remain in the
memory.
Do not pick faults in a great man, for if thou
send forth thy arrow to the heavens, it will only
return and wound thee.
The grief of slander never touches the hearts
of the pure ; from necessity a wise man becomes
a companion of his enemy, as a pointless pen
makes love with a knife.
A man of many thoughts becomes distracted,
as a bow slacked through over much use, is only
fit to become the bow of a cotton cleaner.
When one road is shut up ten are opened, as a
dumb man makes hundreds of gestures.
125
As tlie character of a tree is known by its
fruits, so by the son the princijoles of a father are
displayed.
Silence is unlawful to the man who, by moving
his tongue, may be a help to the whole world.
As a black hair is easily seen in milk, so people
see at once a fault in a good man.
The careless are not made vigilant by stric-
tures of the tongue, as a deadened foot does not
care for a thorn.
If thou wishest to keep thy body and mind
prosperous, extinguish, as with water, the fire
of thy anger.
The senseless man who, in order to increase
gold, takes much trouble, decreases by it his own
years.
With a shut mouth thou wilt be like a fra-
grant bud, an open mouth brings trouble to the
garden of the soul.
Ridicule is as the fire of separation, reverence
is as the water of the life of friendship.
From an ignorant man do not expect a shut
mouth, as thou wilt not find empty bottles sealed.
The jaicc of the honey of silence is so sweet
that a wise man's lips stick together by its taste.
Wlien the burden in the womb of a woman
increases, to bend low becomes difficult to her,
126
so wlien tlie mean man becomes filled witli
gold, lie forgets the practices of respect and rever-
ence.
By heat green fruit becomes ripe, but lie wlio
is naturally wicked and of base metal, by tlie
heat of affection becomes all the more vile.
As nothing is joined by scissors, so the grace of
union cannot be obtained by a quarrelsome man.
As, although sour vinegar is obtained from
wine, but wine can never come out of vinegar,
so a man by nature vile, can never become pure,
if a hundred years be wasted upon him.
If thou wilt mix with hundreds of niaimds of
the sugar of affection one bitter Avord, the effect
of that one word will never be removed.
As a diseased eye is pained by light, so when
a rash man keeps company with a wise one, his
heart is exceedingly grieved, and he considers
a wise man a veritable plague.
As water cannot remove the dust from its own
face, so he who removes the difficulties of others
endures sometimes such sufferings that all means
and plans for relieving himself are in vain.
The splendour of him who patiently carries on
beneficial works, shines like the sun ; and the
report of his virtue spreads every where ; from
east to west he is exalted.
127
It in a becoming way tliou wilt maintain tliy
own position, thou wilt endure little evil in the
world.
Take thy measures before the occurrence of
any event ; for after the event sighs and groans
will be m vain.
As every jot (or point) is read in its proper
place, so all wise people heartily prefer each word
in its proper season.
If thou hast no natural gift in thee, be thou
not proud of the name of thy father.
As there is true natural brightness in the sun,
he has no desire for any other light ; so those
who have true pearls (richness of intellect) do
not wish for borrowed ornaments.
As the hook falls into the mouth of a fish, so
will the hook of disgrace still the tongue of him
who raises objections by crooked arguments ;
and all the wise will despise him.
In the company of the wicked the good are
blamed, as a bitter almond makes even sugar
bitter.
The sweat of shame cannot wash away the
spot of vice ; base sins will not be washed away
by weeping.
The garden of this world will not bccomo
empty; if one plant passes away another rises.
128
Such are the water and air of the field of the
worklly conduct of mankmd, that to-day's sowing
becomes ready for reaping to-morrow.
An ignorant man may apply hundreds of
maunds of surma to his eyes, yet will he not see
the way of wisdom.
Should an ignorant man talk largely of
wisdom let not this astonish thee ; for the
sleeping one sometimes considers himself awake,
and in sleep has thoughts and imaginations.
There are three sorts of friends, the one loving
thee with his tongue, one loving thee for thy
substance, and one loving thy soul. Never call
to thy house the man fond of pleasing thee by
talking ; to him who loves thee for thy substance
give bread, and l^id him farewell ; but care for
the lover of thy soul with all thy heart ; spend
for his sake thy possessions and property.
An avaricious man is not satisfied with both
the worlds, as the inside of a bubble is not filled
by the sea.
Every thing taken moderately is felt good, a
long dress looks all the better by being shortened.
In thy friendship be as a butterfly ; be steadfast
to thy friend as he is to the light.
According to all the words written in the
book of fate, the afliau's of the world happen one
129
after another ; one breatli having come out, an-
other goes uij and if one comes in the other passes
out.
"When a mean man finds trust reposed in him
he sputters hke a wick on which water has
fallen ; and like it, after much wild flickering,
he becomes at last black ashes.
Learning in a self-willed stubborn man is like
a light in a stinking privy.
The world closes its eyes upon a thousand
virtues, but at one fault it barks like a dog.
In every man therefore these four qualifications
are required : first, to be liberal in works of
beneficence ; secondly, not to grieve the heart of
a good friend, for the heart of a friend is like a
polished mirror, in which all things will appear
exact to thee ; thirdly, never to let loose an evil
tongue, lest thou have to ask forgiveness, and to
repent with grief; fourthly, never to return evil
to any who does evil to thee.
If he ask forgiveness of thee, forget his evil,
and cleanse thy heart from its remembrance.
Though thou hadst a hundred tongues like a
comb, yet shouldst thou never divulge to any
one the story of thy secrets.
Engage in no business without the counsel of
a friend ; do not go to an unknown country by
an unknown road.
130
It is useless to do a work after tlie time fordoing
it has been lost, as after the body is gone the
shadow of Homa is unavailing.
As a lamp does not become envious by seeing
the sun, so if thou obtain as much as thou needst,
be thankful.
As every bu^d possesses wings and feathers, but
there is no power of flying in the wings and
feathers themselves, so mere possessions are of
no use ; a man of possessions must exert himself.
As the particles of the black smoke of a lamp
from afar settle on white cotton, so is there jeal-
ousy in a black-hearted man ; he sticks a false
charge to a man of pure heart.
When small dust flies off from the earth, the
eyehds instantly cover the bright eyes, so when
a base man rides upon a horse, the eyes behold-
ino* him with contempt close themselves upon
him.
As in order to heal a wound the ashes of a
scorpion are used, so sometimes by the wicked >
wickedness is remedied.
A man of base origin does not come to give
help in difficulty, the toes of the feet cannot
loosen tight knots.
As a deadly sword is not made from gold, so
in a pure man revenge and malice are not found.
131
As a straight tooth, having become crooked
and making the mouth uncomfortable, is speedily
di'awn out with pincers, so if any one's son be-
comes evil he should be immediately driven out
from the house.
Inherent \^ce cannot be removed by the com-
pany of the good ; by the water-like lustre of
glass dust cannot be washed from the face.
As the ill-savoured asafoetida is not improved
by rose-water, so neither can the horns of the
deer bloom under the influence of spring.
If any one's gold be more than his need,
consider him truly miserable.
The vices of a man of low birth cannot be
diminished ; as the teeth of a snake are not made
harmless by biting.
There is no one conversant with the comino-
events of this world ; no one is wise enough to
read the writing of fate.
o
He who is slandered walks straight, as a
crooked file gives straightness to other things.
As the dew on the rose does not become rose-
water, so in the company of the good, a bad man
does not become noble.
As the sea does not tell the value of its pearls,
so a virtuous heart does not proclaim its own
virtues.
132
Those wlio are of hard hearts cannot be
softened by affection : if heated iron be left
alone for a moment it mil become hard iron
againy a thonsand different means might be em-
ployed upon it in vain.
A rich miserly man can never be a hearty
friend of an unfortunate man ; the poisonous
serpent dwelling in a cell sits upon treasures and
licks the dust.
As a picture of a lion painted on a wall, so,
harmless, should be the dread of a king.
As a lamp does not give light near its own
foot, and the light of another lamp is required
there ; so a man does not see his own defects, but
must gain a knowledge of them from another.
An able man has no fear for his livelihood ; the
key of a livelihood is in the claw of a lion.
Let a nail be of gold or of diamond, but nobody
puts it in the eye ; so a base man may be ex-
tremely handsome in appearance, yet great men
do not make friendship with him.
As in the company of pearls the thread remains
quite distinct, so do bad men if they enter into
the company of the good.
Happy is the man who always abstains in this
world from two evil things ; who does not take
a bad wife, even though she be a fairy, and does
133
not grasp gold in liis hand even tliougli it were
promised to last to tlie judgment day.
If thou wishest to have the pearls of wisdom,
or to sweep away the filth of ignorance from thy
heart, then adorn thy body with these three
things, little food, little sleep, and little speech.
A flatterer will not be faithful to thee ; the
cane plant cannot yield sweet fruits.
A wise man first employs forethought, the word
that is gone cannot return to the mouth again.
A man who is naturally senseless do thou with
thy knowledge consider to be a book with an
imposing title, outwardly attractive, but inwardly
worthless.
If thou wilt be a servant of thy teacher, thou
wilt speedily become a lord over others.
If thou wishest thy heart to be pure as a mir-
ror, cleanse away ten things from thy heart, —
impurity and envj, avarice and slander, pride
and enmity, craftiness and oppression, all manner
of iniqviitous niggardliness, and unlawful re-
venge. By this thou wilt find grace in both
worlds.
Consider not the wrath of great men free from
mercy ; the thunder of the heavens brings vivify-
ing rains ; sometimes words prove treasures by
which the troubles of the good and evil arc
removed.
134
As rain at tlie proper season becomes a pearl
in the sea, and flowers and leaves on the earth,
so when any thing happens in its own time a
good effect is produced by it.
A poisonous thorn stuck on a wall gives us
this lesson, that if a base man were to sit on a
high seat, the mark of greatness would not appear
in him.
With the spectacles of wisdom a heart can be
read, with the arrow of the sighs of grief stones
can be pierced.
The best things to give are rice and pulse, the
best not to give is a word of abuse from the
mouth ; the best to drink is the cup of anger, the
best not to eat is unlawful gain.
The friendship of a senseless man is like a
glass jug, which being broken with a tap is
destroyed.
The friendship a of wise man is a vessel of
gold, if it breaks at any time it can be mended
again.
If thou wishest to be free from grief in the
world, do not get up quarrels with others.
The wicked man is grieved by seeing a heart
without revenge, as a black African looking upon
a mirror is ashamed.
In courage thou mayst be heroic Rustam, but
want will make thee a weak zal (a fox).
135
After mucli joy comes miicli weeping : the
laughing of the lightning ushers in the pouring
rain.
The hands of the man who is well skilled are
Hke a tree of precious gold, but the hands of the
unskilful, in whose mouth are only pompous
words, are like the horns of a bull. By the former
the whole world is benefited, by the latter their
body is greatly pained.
By skill an ill fortune is not changed, a crow
cannot by eating bones become a Homa.
As a rose is torn and scattered by a slight breath
of air, so a good man by a slight fault feels
greatly ashamed.
As only by an axe can wood be cleaved, so only
by flogging can a bad man be improved.
As clear eyes are hampered by spectacles, so
a bright heart is made obscure by discussion.
It is said that the earth rests upon the horns
of a bull ; but this fact is true, that he who takes
upon himself the burden of the world becomes a
bull, he wallows continually in pain and difficulty.
136
(On Silence.)
If thou wisliest thy month to be fragrant as
a bud, never remove the fastening of silence.
The diver silently goes into the sea and brings
to hand the truly delectable pearl. In a closed
mouth thou wilt find tranquillity of heart, but
otherwise a rent will form in thy heart, as in
a pen. Do not speak even a little without deli-
beration ; do not reply to any body before thou
art asked. Two ears have been given thee and
one tongue, that having heard twice, thou shouldst
speak what is right. Men who appreciate
the pearl of wisdom always give forth true
pearls from their mouth. A speaker of little
will not see shame ; one grain of musk is better
than a hundred maunds of dust. Truly wise men
speak as much as is wanted ; lofty mountains do
not speak except to reply. As a lock of a box
suggests the thought that there must be in that
box gold or valuables, so of the person to whose
lips a lock is applied people form a high opinion.
If thou wantest a remedy for an impure
mouth, fasten thy lips with the lock of silence.
137
By prudent speech the treasure of the heart is
preserved; by speaking imprudently rebeUion
rises in the domain of the soul.
(On Youth and Old Age.)
When in the rainy season frequent showers fall,
the water in the rivers becomes dirty ; so when
the spring of man's youth blooms, by perverse
conduct he is always defiled. Even in youth
perform all good actions, and consider thy black
hair as the blackness of a single night. As the
pearls of words written with ink are seen through
the whiteness of the paper, so in thy old age thou
wilt value thy youth. If thou repent of sins in
thy youth thou wilt certainly taste more or less
of good from it ; but in thy old age when thou
lose thy teeth, the blessing of repentance will
not be delicious to thee. From out of thy sleep
old age will suddenly awake thee ; thy hair, of
the colour of cotton, will be the pillow of death.
The blackness of the hair having gone be thou
watchful ; if, night having gone, morning come,
18 a
138
be tlioii awake. By colouring, whiteness of the
hair cannot be hidden, by any artifices the fall
of the year (Autumn) cannot be made Spring.
As hailstones fall from the heavens, so in
old age the pearls of the teeth drop down. As
the body grows old, hope becomes young;
in the hundredth year the tooth of ambition
comes up. As at the close of the night there
is less brightness in the lamp, so in old age
the strength of wisdom decreases. As at the
close of the night sleep seems very pleasant,
so in old age the dread of death increases. By
eating fat, old age does not get strength ; as by
soaking a bone in butter it will not acquire
fatness. A bent back makes signs to the earth
old people, as it were, seek out their own graves.
"VYhen a bad man sees the termination of his Hfe,
the face of his heart is painted Avith streaks of
tears. In old age the body will become as a
bent sickle ; therefore sow in thy youth things
worthy to be reaped. Wlien an old man becomes
bent as a bow, his eyes do not stay in their
place ; his steps are not firm, his feet are in his
hands, his eyes are in his pockets. As a string
139
of tliread comes out from cotton, so from tlie
white liair come forth wishes. From the time
when the ice of old age falls upon the head,
the fire of youth becomes gradually reduced.
A wicked man becomes very careless in
age, as the watch-dog of night sleeps during
the day. The troubles of old age cannot be
removed by gold or valuables ; hundreds of
pearls cannot do the work of one tooth. "White
hair is as it were the enemy of life ; darken
the face of this enemy by thy works. Consider
old age such a plant that the fruits of death
always grow upon it ; consider it good to think
on this ; if its fruits are death, what must its
thorns be ? AVlien thou art ten or twenty years
old do not live carelessly ; till thirty the relish
of life will last; at forty thy body will begin
quickly to droop away ; after fifty thou wilt lose
thy health, dimness will come to thy eye, and thy
whole self will become inactive ; at sixty thy
understanding will begin to fail ; at seventy thou
wilt be debarred ft'om all labours, when thou
art going from eighty to ninety thy throat will
swallow less food ; and when thou readiest one
140
Imndred or more thy trembling hands will at
last be seized by death*
(On Prayer.)
Keep thy soul always happy in the world ;
with joy always remember God. In prayer
keep thy mind humble ; for lovely flowers grow
only from black earth. "Worship is the only true
duty of youth ; do not delay it till old age. He
who travels during the black cold night may
remain at the stage during the burning sunshine.
The drops of dew falling down from heaven
engage, like the grains of a rosary, in importunate
prayer. The growing fragrant bud of every tree
keeps its mouth shut in humility and in remem-
brance of the Lord. True prayer is an eternal
treasure ; he is the true man who maintains friend-
ship with the Lord. O son, know that the prayer
of midnight will overcome the difficulties of
the whole world. So wonderful is the water-
splash of prayer that it will quench the calamity
of hundreds of consuming fires. By one cold
sigh of an earnest midnight prayer the black-
141
ness of tlie world is illuminated. To-day perform
thou such acts of worship as to prepare thy
goods for travel to-morrow ; then with a smil-
ing face thou mayst take thy departure, while
others weeping draw out their heart's blood.
Never lend thou to a man who does not pray, even
though he may rend his hair by reason of the
pangs of hunger. He who does not feel his
duty to his Creator will never remember thy
claims. In prayer let thy heart and tongue be
united ; with one finger the knot of a string will
not be loosened. Shouldst thou remain awake
any night for the sake of prayer, the eyes of
thy heart will be brightened with an invisible
surma.
(On Repentance.)
Consider that to be the worst kind of vice of
which thou wouldst remain ignorant to the end.
If from the eyes of repentance thou wilt drop a
single tear, a cloud of sin having been washed
away, thou wilt become pure. As by the scat-
tering of stars in the sky the night becomes
(bright as) morning, so the filth of sin is cleared
142
away by tears. Do not remain careless concern-
ing repentance, for tlic next world will give
a pearl in return for thy every tear. If tliou
keep the eyes of thy heart filled with water, do not
be afi'aid of the fire of hell. my son, sin is
the heritage of Adam, from child to child it has
continued to descend. In youth duly do thou
the work of repentance, for without teeth the
skin of the lips will not be cut. The Lord does
the Lord's works, work thou as man. The
mercy of the Lord is greater than our sinfulness,
therefore it is not necessary that every little
particular should be remembered. When the
soul becomes bitter with the poison of sin,
the medicine of repentance only will suit it.
In the courts of the liberal wonderful works of
merit are done ; for the sake of a drop of water,
the sins of a hundred years are forgiven. By
weakness only man becomes a siimer, therefore
doth that powerful Benefactor forgive him.
p
HAPTER VIII.
*--iL«r?wfts*^j^s-^
Prince Albert's dying sickness ; the blessing asked by him,
and the good counsels given to his eldest son and to Vic-
toria.
Counsels of tins sort, many and various, one
after anotlier, did Albert give to his son.
reader, if there be any understanding in thee, see
clearly from hence how the poets give life to
the dying, how by mere words of fancy they
convey true impressions, how they make one
drop a spreading sea, and how from one bud
they lay out a garden of roses. Know thou him
to be truly foolish who cannot from a sign
make out the iimcr meaning. I have written
the whole l^eginning as above ; now hear from
me the end of the story. Be not thou sad from
hearing it, for such is the way of the revolving
earth. In all things the Lord has His purposes ;
144
by Him only good and evil fortune exist. The
remedies of all diseases are in His hands ; by
Him one withers and another flourishes.
In the Christian year 1861, on an evil day of
the month of October, Prince Albert and his wife
having travelled in Scotland came to London ;
at this time the good and eminent Albert was
not thoroughly well in body, but not minding
his pain, he did not take care of himself, and
did not take any medicine. He went also to
Cambridge to gladden his heart by seeing his
son. There he met his eldest son and talked
with him earnestly on topics suitable for him.
Then he remembered the hunting ground, and
prepared the things necessary for it ; and with
powder and gun, and pistol and sword, he fur-
nished his handsome person. Laying aside his
prmcely apparel he put on that of a hunter ;
brightness came to his eyes, and thoughts of
slaughter to his heart. Like the tiger he wan-
dered in the jungle everywhere, and visited the
game with the calamity of bullets. Running and
dashing he sent forth shout upon shout, he leaped
upwards and downwards, and in all such tcils
145
of hunting the day was spent, and the dark-
coloured evenmg came. So red did his face be-
come with excitement that it looked from a
distance like the planet Mars ; and so filled with
perspiration was his body, that there was flow-
ing from it as it were a sea of priceless pearls.
This fatigued and perspiring body he exposed
for a long time to the open air, so that violent
fever ensued ; but he took no advice and drank
no medicine. In this manner several days passed,
and then a review of the army taking place,
he went with the Queen to see it. Suddenly
rain set in ; but Albert stood there persistently
for a long time and consequently his former
illness rapidly increased. He lost the whole
strength of his body, a racking pain was felt in
every limb ; his back began to break with pain,
his body became hot with fever, like the fire of
a furnace. Then he sought aid from a physi-
cian, but when an arrow issues forth from the
bow of Death, the shield of contrivance or wealth
is of no avail. Kings and beggars are equally
destroyed. The physician used means upon
means, but the illness increased in spite of every
19 A
146
tliins: tliat could be done. Tlic virulence of the
disease had become so great by the dawn of
the next day, that a shout of alarm rose amongst
his relatives, and the report of it spread all over
London, and high and low became anxious.
Lsarned physicians tried every means in their
power, but the root of the strange disease could
not be reached. brother, the body is truly a
wonder ; whose structure nobody comprehends,
the key of whose secrets are in the hands of the
Lord, where the eyes of wisdom and of skill are
blind. Every moment the disease greatly in-
creased, and on the 14tli December 1861
there was great consternation, for the rapid ap-
proach of the last breath was manifest. Then
in every direction were the electric wires em-
ployed. His eldest son had been sent for from
Cambridge, and the very moment he arrived by
the railway he was made to stand before his
dying father. Seeing him, Albert heaved a
sigh from his heart, and said : —
O youthful son, continue to be no longer
childish, for the high heaven being displeased
with me, I abandon this frail world and go. I
147
commit to tliee the rule of this house and this
country ; so behave thyself that my name may
endure. With thy good mother continue to be
loving ; never in the least vex her soul. Do not
even for a moment think a thouo-ht without
God. Never do any thing against His com-
mands. Keep thy hands closed from wicked-
ness ; be always seeking the holy Lord. Keep
my counsels ever in remembrance." Then he
lifted up his hands to heaven and said : —
{A Trayev.)
O Benevolent Guide, both the workls have Thy help ai;d
protection ; earth is Thy servant, and heaven is subject
unto Thee. All crowned kings are in Thy hand. I humbly
bow the head of my heart to ask a last favour of Thee
for myself. (^Jontinue thou the Protector of this my son ; be
Thou the solver of every one of his difficulties ; for by Thee
only are the sun, the heavens, and the earth. Thou only art
the true friend of the distressed. I have not performed service
worthy of Thee ; on account of this, shame rests upon the
face of my soul. Whatever may be wicked do thou forgive
me unasked. With an o\)q\\ heart I make this confession,
that sins without number have been here by me committed.
From drinking of the cup of carelessness I remained here
intoxicated ; tha bottle of life has fallen from my hands.
Clothe me now with the robe of Thy mercy ; cause me to drink
the wine of Thy wonted forgiveness. Now I travel from hence
to my country ; be Thou my Guide in the way. O morcifid
148
One, O King, O Creator, O Lord, O Righteous and Majestic
One, forgive my sins. When the dust of black darkness
falls on my bod\% show Thou me the light of the lamp of
Thy mercy. Do not leave me to the protection of others ; do
not leave me to taste the fruits of my own plant. I have no
more i)owcr to move than a flying straw when stopped by a
wall, therefore do Thou bestow on me the grace of Thy love.
Draw me to Thy arms as dry straws are drawn by amber.
{The Blessing given to the Queen.)
Tlien lie looked towards the beloved of his soul,
for the last time opened the lips of love, and
spoke words of blessing, such as these : —
" thou excellent one, life of my soul, never
may thou feel the grief of my separation from
thee. But shouldst thou be wounded by this
grief, there is no other remedy but the balm of
resignation ; reign here living as thou hast lived.
May thy joy remain ever young. May wealth
be the foundation of thy kingdom. May all thy
subjects be filled with blessings. May God be
thy all-sufficient Guide. May the water of the
Lord's mercy abide in the royal garden. May
the warmth of the light of justice continue in
thy kingdom. May the crowns of emperors be
149
the dust of tliy feet. As tliy ring liolds a,
diamond, so may thy sense comprehend the se-
crets of heaven. As long as the heaven and
earth endure, so long may thy justice and faith
continue. May the fragrant and lovely rose of
thy fame bloom day and night by the breath of
mercy. May the fortress of prosperity be
thy protection hero. Be a guardian with all thy
heart to these children. Be kind to my poor
relations. Accept this last farewell;* forget my
negligence, imperfections, and errors ; having
remained together so long, now we part ; having
seen many joys now we see sorrows. But all
this is the design of the Creator."
* For one day before the death of Prince Albert, uhich
occurred on the 14th day of December 1861, at 10-50 p.m..
Queen Victoria and her daughter AHce remained with him, and
attended to him with heart and soul till the hour of his death,
and during this time, his eldest son the Prince of Wales was
also present in a very distressed state. The death of her
husband occasioned great grief and distress to the excellent
Victoria. At such time her daughter Alice administered to
her much comfort, with great understanding and resignation ;
and in this great difficulty she looked after all things with
much courage. Unfortunately at the death of Albert all his
children were not present.
p
HAPTER IX.
The last words spoken by Albert, on the vanity of the things
of this world. After this his death, &c.
Whatever tliis frail world gives us it always
sooner or later takes back. As a bud in a
garden grows with a closed moutli, and having
bloomed dies rejoicing; so whoever among man-
kind is humbly born but at the time of death
hears the report of his goodness, is to be
considered indeed fortunate, for goodness alone
proves efficacious to the end.
Consider the world a prison, from which all
who get an excuse go out, and will never again
remember it ; having gone to another they are
happy. As fire does not abstain from burning
those who practise fireworship all their lives, so
the world never bestows any special favour upon
those who bind the heart of their souls to the
world. AVhen the honeycomb is filled with honey,
151
the bees abandon tlio place and go away, so gene-
rally when people are filled with riches the hunter
of death comes and parts them from their riches
suddenly. "Wise men do not like wealth ; as long
as there is a crown on the wick of a lamp, so long
there is sputtering. If the waves of the sea were to
become swords, the empty-hearted bubble would
not care for them, so dervishes do not receive a
wound from gold, they forget their distress in the
enjoyment of contentment. As a fast-bound bird
cannot soar on high, so a soul tied to the earth
cannot rise to heaven. Consider this life as a
dream or a shadow, where pain of body and
trouble of spirit are encountered ; where man
only understands any thing after getting hun-
dreds of raps, and when his ears are -wrung ;
where tyrannical and wicked men are considered
as wolves and foxes and base dogs. If the
world is as a distressmg dream, it is better that
the eyes be kept shut there. A bright-hearted
man keeps aloof from the world, as the light of
a lamp keeps at a distance from the lantern.
"Wliile speaking thus the breath of the Prince's
l3ody came to his lips, he went to heaven by an
152
unseen road, tlie caged nightingale flew liigli
aloft, forsook an unclean world, and went to
tlie garden of paradise. Upon tliis tlie Queen
felt sucli distress that her good sense did not
remain with her ; her brain turned like a swing
with grief, and a fainting dizziness seized her
heart; worldly pleasure and rejoicing became
disgusting to her. Heaving a sigh she struck
her forehead ; looking at her children she shed
torrents of tears.
(The Consolation given by the Princess Alice.)
This seeing, the Princess Alice said, " dear
mother, never do this ; take us children into thy
hands ; for truly ours is the inestimable mis-
fortune, that we have lost so good a guardian,
we are from this day fatherless children.* But
now do thou take the place of our father.
* As said above, Albert died on 14th December; but this
eminent man had given up all hope of his life from the 11th,
and when they removed him from his usual place into the
palace of George IV. and William IV. where both these sove-
reigns died, Albert openly began to say that in the hour that
was passing he would die ; and so it happened. In the great
crowd of gentlemen who were round about him at his last
hour, there were several Germans, French, Portuguese, and
153
Now remember thou God in tliis afSiction.
Collect tliy accustomed patience, do not murmur
impatiently in any way. Bow thy head to the
Divine will. Consider not His dispensations void
of purpose. If these are the mysteries of the will
of God, take His afflicting visitation as surma,
and with it paint patiently the eyes of thy heart,
that the black coloured grief may become bright
through its means ; for no disadvantage can
happen to a child from the chastisement of a
father. This world is like a poisonous thorn,
those people who put on it the feet of their
hearts, are pained and grieved and wounded by
it. It is most right that we should be pleased
with the things which the Benefactor does ;
whether His dispensations be grievous, or joyous,
no murmuring is seemly in man. As a potter
makes every sort of vessel of clay, but there is no
power in the clay to ask the potter his reasons,
or be so irreverent as to make any murmuring,
Englishmen ; and having bade a Airewell to them in their
different languages, he breathed his last. The day before
this renowned man died, he had not the jiower of recognizing
people ; but he was able to distinguish well, and to the last
moment. Her Majesty Victoria.
20 A
154
so must we consider mankind. No fault-finding
with Divine workmanship can be proper. Five
different fingers are on the hand of death, and
whenever it wishes to do any work it puts two
upon the eyes, and two upon the ears, and placing
one upon the mouth, it says ' Hold thy tongue.'
A holy heart is not distressed by grievous
dispensations ; the glass of the mirror does not
become dim by reason of a grieved countenance.
Wise men consider him thoroughly ignorant who
is distracted concerning the advent of death.
The waves of the sea are not stopped by the
hand ; trying to stop one, two instantly make
their appearance; therefore, wise-hearted,
excellent mother, think thou of the past and of
the future." AVlien she heard such words from
her daughter, her grief was in a measure allayed.
With courage she maintained patience in her
heart, and bore her burden for a time.
The news spreads of the death of Prince Albert, and a sad and
melancholy sight takes place in consequence, and the
ceremony of his burial is performed.
AYlien Albert thus died, the sad news spread
over the whole country. At midnight tele-
155
grapliic messages sped one after another. La-
mentation rose in every house and family. The
great bell of the church rung,* the noise resem-
bled that of the judgment day. The news of
the sad death reached the countries of France,
Prussia, Austria, Russia, and Germany. Mur-
muring and confusion, and lamentation and
sorrow, moved from one place to another, mile
after mile.
All the ministers and statesmen arrived at the
palace, and when night passed away, and the
morning light dawned, all things necessary to be
done were attended to. Old and young came
from, distant countries, a crowd of men and
women assembled; the veins of the blood of
grief flowed in every one's body, sorrowing
friends wept every where, for a sad calamity had
happened in the joyous palace. All, looking at
* 111 the great cliiirch called St. Pavil's, there is a bell
larger tlian any other in London, which is never rung on any
occasion except when one of the royal family of England
dies. The news was given to the inhabitants of the whole
city by the ringing of this bell for two hours in the middle
of the night.
15G
liis face, were surprised. The beautiful body liad
become soul-less, but his tranquil heart was seen
in his placid features. The dead face showed the
goodness of his soul, the divine light was seen
upon him. The whole city mourned with a
sincere heart, and closed their shops, offices,
and houses ; and tlie usually thronged streets
became deserted. The army bound the sign of
mourning upon their persons ; all heroes drew
blood from the eyes of their hearts ; all, high and
low, of the city, came together, and put on the
black coloured garments of deep mourning. A
mantle of grief was, as it were, spread over the
earth. Wlien other nobles came from distant
countries, it was settled that on the 2ord the
body of the deceased should be buried ; necessary
directions were given, and a box or coffin of
everlasting sleep was made ready, worthy of the
noble dead ; and they placed him in that coffin,*
as is the way of all in this world.
* It was first thought that three weeks after the day on
■which the eminent Albert died his body should be buried ;
but as the sight of the corpse of this highly blessed man
occasioned excessive grief and despondency to the good
Queen Victoria, which perchance would tend to the injury of
157
According to royal custom tliis coffin con-
sisted of four boxes and covers, one within
the other, of which the first box and cover
were of smooth pohshed ebony, the second was
of lead, the third was a box of still thicker ebony,
the fourth had a cover of silver and superior crim-
son velvet embroidered together ; and upon this
box his name, with particulars of his age and
descent, were all described in detail. At the head
of this an engraved silver crowii was attached ;
at its foot were placed in silver the arms cor-
responding with all the titles the deceased had ;
and in the middle part, upon a large silver
plate, was engraved his titles.
When the 23rd day came, all the people as-
sembled there sorrowing, all the ceremonies were
performed according to the customs of the coun-
her health, the ministers consulting with each other fixed
upon the 23rd December for the funeral. By this time the
friends and acquaintances who were to come from distant
countries arrived; and the Duchess of Wellington and the
Duchess of Sutherland, two ladies of high position, stayed with
the good Victoria many days to console her and to make her
forget her grief ; and they endeavoured to lessen her over-
whelming distress by speaking constantly words of counsel
and of wisdom.
158
try and religion ; and the wliole community
walked along lamenting. Upon all the rose trees
grew the thorns of grief ; the blooming cypresses
became as yellow hay. Over whatever dust the
body of the deceased moved it flew up, with a
cry of grief, to the heavens. In the cold season
arose the fire of intense grief. The nightingales,
forgetting their singing, cried out like crows.
The beasts of the forest wept bitterly ; lions and
leopards forgot their prey in their grief. The
heart. of all England was pained and scarred;
faces like the pomegranate flower became pale.
O brother, though thou be a lord of this world,
thou wilt not find any thing save a narrow place,
two or three feet broad and eight feet long ; and
finally leaving that, thou wilt become invisible.
Observe this drama before thy eyes. "What
palaces Albert had, of how many cities and
villages he was lord ; but after death what did
that good man obtain ? When they reached
St. George's chapel* they took the corpse into
it, where a cell was ready, near which past kings
* There are vaults for laying np the royal corpses in a place
named St. George's Chapel, Windsor. In these vaults there
159
slept ; and there tliey caused Albert to take his
last rest. Abandoning this world he left behind
him a good name. Such are the workings of
heaven, wise men never make any claim upon or
war with it. This creation thus rolls along.
Here we experience joy and sorrow. One goes
first, another follows ; but dry dust is the end of
them both. Such is the course of this world, it
has no youth, it has no age. Whether thou art
a beggar or a king, thou wilt get after death one
torn sheet. Thou wilt find a place solitary and
dark ; there wilt thou be reminded of thy doings.
There thou wilt sm^ely find terror or joy ; thou
wilt meet there with strict justice only. In the
hand of the great hunter of this revolving heaven,
are two sets of cells, in one of which the corpses of the royal
family of Hanover are placed ; the second is set apart for those
who die as sovereigns of England. The corpse of the eminent
Albert was placed among the latter. There was a custom
of lighting lamps and candles while burying the royal corpses
in this manner, but this custom was given up after the burial
of King WilHam IV., therefore at the time of the hurial of Al-
bert no lamp was lighted. At the time of the funeral proces-
sion the Prince of Wales, the eldest son of the deceased, walked
first as the chief mourner, and he was followed by the Duke of
Cambridge, the Prince of Prussia (son-in-law of Victoria), and
others.
160
there is a noose so extensive that it falls upon
the neck of every soul indiscriminately, and
none is free from its grasp. This world is,
as it were, an iron chain, the young or old who
break through this chain will win a fort of gold
in the next world, and will be filled completely
with happiness of body and mind. Country and
property, children and wife, will stay with thee
till thou art buried; sorrowing relatives will
remain behind, but none will become dust
with thee. This existence is soon followed by
non-existence ; keep firm the stirrups of the horse
of thy soul ; cast away the banner of avarice from
thy hand; keep tight the reins, because the
horse is lame. Surprising are the affairs of this
world, do not put thy trust in any thing. Do
not be deceived and caught in the snare, for evil
always remains behind the veil. Tossing up and
down continue here; one rises high and the
other falls low. In one minute one comes, and
another passes away. He who will feel himself
here as dead while he lives, will hve after death.
Those who weep with grief in dread of death,
throw as it were bitter rose-water into sugar.
161
The world is like a pit of miry clay, the greater
weight thou place upon it the deeper thou wilt
sink. How long shall we go on with such
conversation ? the cotton of inattention is in the
ears of the people.
«•--e.i-c*A^♦^^ia — »
21 A
p
HAPTER X.
c---S=<5*iiii#=3>=Q-^
Verses describing the eflPect wrought by separation on true
loving and beloved ones, &c.
The shadow of the head, in the prime youth.
Departed from this place ;
The treasure of my heart being robbed.
My weight and value in the world are lost.
O, my beloved has departed from me.
His sign is nowhere to be seen ;
A tortured body has he left behind.
And carried the precious soul with him,
A Jesus -like form has become invisible.
Then what hope is there now for the dead !
When the bright lamp has been extinguished
Why should tlie moth longer stay ?
Is there any such messenger here,
Who would speed to the land of non-existence,
Who, with a tongue delicious as honey,
Would give this message to my beloved ? —
The nightingale of the garden.
With thy fragrance is greatly intoxicated ;
For thy face, with open eyes.
The roses are anxiously waiting.
1G3
light of my eyes do thou come.
Because for thy heart-charmiug face,
1 have, like the flower of narcissus,
Reserved a place in mine eyes.
How much to see thy face this my soul thirsteth ;
If thou wert to know aright.
Thou wouldst hring a sea of tears Avith thee.
The bud of the hope of my heart,
A cold sigh now causes to wither,
And with the fire of separation
My body is scorched like kubab.
Come thou soon, come O lover,
For the glad season of spring is departing ;
That we may drink the wine of love,
For the rose garden is fully prepared.
In anxious waiting for thy face
The pupil of my eye comes forth ;
Appear thou openly or secretly.
That I may find " munsookh "* and rest.
(2.)
O God be gracious unto me.
Give heed to my loneliness.
For without the beloved the heart is lifeless ;
Hear Thou my complaint.
From the cage of this world, if the bird
That has suddenly flown
Were to show his face hut a moment,
The age that has gone would return.
* The word " munsookh," elsewhere rendered peace of
mind, a happy mind, &c , occurring in the last of each of the
sets of verses from this j)lace to the cud, I have thought better
to preserve untranslated. — Translator'' s Note.
164
The eyes of this heart are fixed
Upon the nest of his fixce only,
Do Thou gracionsly hring him.
For these eyes arc his only dwelling place.
The lover, the dust of whose feet
Was the crown of my head.
Keep not away from me, that I may
Enjoy this kingdom with " munsookh."
(3.)
To whom shall I tell the grief of my heart ?
There is no sympathizer here.
Without thee, O my beloved,
There is no helper here.
As in the double kernel of the almond.
There is a gaping wound in my breast ;
If thou wert to show thy face for a moment
This my wound would be healed.
Like the bright moon of the second day
I stand bending my body,
That if I see thy sunlike face
I might seize thee and embrace thee.
rosebud-mouthed possessor of my heart,
Tuoiigh I am so straitened with grief.
Yet live I still without thee,
And my soul is considered as hard as stone.
Come thou, O beloved one, come ;
Though my senses are scarified.
Yet these mine eyes will recognize thee.
Thou only desire of my soul !
1 stand in thy way like the dust.
Burning in body and mind,
Throw thou the shade of thy feet upon me,
That I may find " munsookh" a little.
1G5
(4.)
In thy grievous separation to-day's day even
Has fled into night.
In the expectation of meeting thee
Soon my -whole life will be ended.
Oh, waiting and expecting thee.
The pupil of the eye of this soul
Is tired and dropping out ;
Bestow upon it but one single thought.
By intoxication of wine, by atar of roses.
Or the bright pearl of the shell,
There is no such telling effect,
As there is on my heart through thee.
Come thou here to me secretly.
That I may hide from both the worlds.
In power, in wealth, in throne, and in crown,
I have no delight, but in thee !
(5.)
The season of spring has come again ;
In this lovely garden.
Sweet nightingales are warbling songs,
In remembrance of the sweet smelling rose.
If thou go from here to the place of my beloved,
O breeze, that causest blooming and fruit-bearing,
Bestow on him countless blessings.
Of leaves and fruits and flowers.
Now a great joy has come
Amongst the people of the world.
The narcissus cuj)S are filled to the brim.
In admiration of thy face.
IGG
Like the eyes of a sick body,
So have mine eyes become colourless ;
Rubbing, rubbing, \vbcrevcr I go,
There appears all blackness and dimness.
Come thou, for without the rose of thy face
This lovely spring is sad.
Like infants deprived of milk,
The hearts of buds and fruits are thirsty.
O wipe thou these my brimful eyes
With the skirt of the heart of "munsookh."
Upon the lips of this my parched life,
By sweet words sprinkle water.
(6.)
Without seeing the face of the beloved.
The soul does not cai'e for the Avorld.
Whoever has no beloved in the world,
He is unworthy of honour.
Sing not, O birds of the garden,
Your lovely songs, as David.
For the Solomon of the rose of London
Has this night left love, and departed !
O heart-charming cypresses.
Display not your beauties and graces ;
For the beloved dove, carrying the breach of Peace,
Has disappeared suddenly.
There is not wanted, moon.
The lustre of thy bright disc.
For towards thy country, on his journey.
Has my lover from hence departed !
Since my friend has not remained here.
What shall I do with gold and possessions ?
With the wealth of his companionship
My body and soul were quite filled.
167
A rose in the hand, a cup to the mouth.
And the blessing of a beloved in the arms.
Whatever poor man enjoys.
Know his state to be better than a king's.
To meet thee, O excellent lover,
I am so exceedingly anxious,
That with the rose-coloured pearls of the heart.
My face and my skirt I keep filled ;
That the moment I see thy face,
I may lavish those pearls upon thee,
And make thee sit with love
Upon the eyes of this precious soul.
That woman sees a heaven here
Who enjoys the happiness of a husband ;
But she who loses her husband in youth,
Endures the pains of hell.
If the light of thy sunlike face
Should be reflected upon this moon.
Then in the black heaven of my state,
A star of sood fortune would shine.
o^
The moonshine is so bright to-night,
As to cheer even black grief.
From the sieve, as it were, of the heavens.
On all sides pearls are scattered.
But without thee, O heart-soothing lover.
How can I value all this ?
Through my great distress for thy separation,
A sheet is spread over all things.
Bring, O breeze of dawn,
The news of the abode of my beloved.
That seeing the garden of his face
We may cull the roses from the garden of " munsookh."
168
(7.)
The griefs of love should he asked of a nightingale,
The excellencies of a lovely face
Should he asked of a rose.
Love is like a wilderness
"Where birds of the heart miss their way.
Where with the wind of separation.
The sighs of grief fly as black dust-
O wise man, consider love to be the only true alchemy,
Where the dust of this body burns,
And the clear soul becomes pure gold.
As ripe fruits, dropping from the branch,
Fall upon the ground.
So of love that has ripened and is lost.
The result is companionship with the dust.
The man, of whose heart
Love becomes the master in this world,
Takes sighs for his pen
And anxieties for his writing book.
By cold counsels,
The burning of the grief of love is not lessened.
As in the wintry season
The flame of a burning fire is not diminished.
As in the flames of fire, babul and aloe wood burn alike,
So in the field of love.
Men of high and low degree resemble each other.
When the noose of love falls secretly upon the mind.
The veins of the body become chains,
And tie down heart and soul.
As glass being melted becomes water.
And then does not care for a stone.
So he whose heart is melted in love
Does not give ear to counsels-
169
When the fire of the Ughtning of love
Falls on the field of the heart.
It burns and consumes to ashes
All kinds of contrivances.
Who, like the wick of a burning lamp.
From the head to the sole of the foot,
AVill continue filled with sighs and tears,
He only can obtain the delights of love.
As is the case with a lighted candle.
Calamities fall on a lover at night,
He complains with his tongue, he burns in his heart.
And sheds the blood of his body through his eyes-
As the wick of a yet sinking lamp
Can be ignited in a moment,
So in a heart that has seen grief
Love takes effect with readiness.
As the coolness of the face of Joseph
Burnt Zuleika in the fire.
So love is such a wonderful thing,
That, if water be in one, flame rises in the other !
From the beginning of time
The wide sea of love has been raging ;
In the storm of this sea only
Are both worlds involved every moment.
It is the nature of all swords to cut things in twain ;
But wonderful is the sword of love,
That it joins together two separate things !
In the distressing separation from his beloved
The lover trembles with fever,
As the quicksilver of the earth, which shakes everlastingly.
As a dead body is cast on one side by the sea,
So dead hearts void of love
Are not loved by the merciful Lord.
22 A
170
As a light that is just going out
Is revived hy a sUght touch of fire.
So is a dying heart fjuickened
By the bright flame of love.
If in the path of pure love
]\Iy heart is a target for a brave man's arrow.
Then all my contrivances for shielding it are vain.
Weeping, v(-ecping in love for thee,
I have washed away " munsookh" and am weak.
The pupils of mine eyes are always wet.
And are swollen like bubbles.
(8.)
In separation from thee, beloved.
For a long time I am crying,
I draw out from mine eyes tears, resembling pearls,
Whither shall I go to see thee, O lover, now I do not know
In thy very search last night I found myself fallen asleep.
Then in the midst of seeing something wonderful.
The water of lamentation was sprinkled upon my face.
And my delightful dream fled from me !
In the rosary of this world
The lover has business with fire only,
And by internal burning
His face becomes wholly of the colour of ashes.
Besides the bitter breath of sighs,
There is no other breeze in this garden !
In the season and freshness of full spring,
The stalks of the plants are withered.
In the delightful science of music.
The nightingale is considered an Aflatoon,*
But iu the school of true love he learns only the alphabet.
* That is, a j^hilosojiher, as Aflatoon or Plato.
171
In the lovely spring of youth sad calamities suddenly came,
Body, "munsookh," and all, withered,
And made my soul truly miserable.
(9.)
God knows what is written in my fate.
What has happened I know, but what may still be hidden !
By grief for thee, O lover,
A fire burns in the house of my heart.
Happiness, beauty, riches, possessions,
Burning day and night, become ashes.
In the net of love I am like a bird imprisoned in a cage.
I have such burning sighs
That at last the cage will be consumed.
My years pass away as with death, though I am alive.
The sleep of insensibility lies upon my mind
As the hard stone upon a grave.
Wonderful, wonderful, O heart-possessing man,
That, though a mountain of grief has sat upon my heart.
Yet comes a cold sigh forth !
And my soul is absorbed only in thy remembrance ;
The ground of this thirsty heart
Drinks only the water of tears.
There, on the trees of sighs, grow spark-like fiery fruits.
Of this my burnuig heart, when the smell comes forth.
The neighbours, amazed.
Inquire where burns this spitted kubab ?
As, in order to mend what is torn.
The thread puts its tongue into the mouth of the needle,
So, O absent beloved one, know thou all my exertions.
For to the cleft that is made in this heart
By the wound of thy separation !
I apply with the skill I possess.
The clasp of the wire of anxiety.
172
Wliat shall I say of my grief for thee ?
My heart has hecome blood,
]\Iy blood has been turned into water,
And this water has washed away " munsookh,"
And come forth by the way of mine eyes.
(10.)
O thou hidden cypress,
"Why rememberest thou not the garden ?
Having been the companion of the rose.
Why makest thou not thy heart fragrant ?
Hear, O brothers, hear you ;
For of a distracted mind and broken heart
A hundred fragments as of glass
Are lying in the garden of this body.
Here, from the burning of grief.
The breast glitters hke a beautiful rosary,
But even in roses will not be found
Such clefts and cuts as in this.
This nightingale, maddened with the phrenzy of passionate
love.
Builds its nest of thorns.
And burns all into dust with sighs t
Being without thee, involuntarily I mourn as a flute.
And hold fast with both my hands
The reins of the horse of passion.
When thou camest in my sleep I woke up startled :
Having seen, as it were, the face of the sun,
I woke from my slumbers.
The painful sigh at the dawn, casts fire like the sun.
In a moment it consumes the stones
In the depths of the earth, into ashes.
The recollection of thy curled locks encircling my neck,
Tying down all ease and " munsookh,"
Throws the noose of death upon my soul.
173
(11.)
My breath comes forth,
But my expectation comes not to pass.
Alas, that my fortune does not take
Some auspicious form.
O my beloved, thy absence brings forth
Sighs from my heart.
As an extinguished lamp causes the wick
To emit black-coloured smoke.
Come, for on accomit of separation from thee,
These eyes, weeping through the night.
Like running wounds, do not close themselves in sleep.
As by much rain behig rained
A clearness appears in the clouds.
It is strange that the dimness of mine eyes
Does not pass away by my constant weeping.
If thou, my Joseph-like lover, wert to come,
Mine eyes would be ready to welcome thee.
But in them now are pits and hollows
As in the cities of Canaan.
"With the fire in my heart
My countenance burns in thy remembrance.
Black scars have fallen on my body
Like the marks on the tulip.
Do not do any thing to cause me
To shut the doors of hope in mine eyes.
For only in the expectation of seeing thee,
They remain open, being painted with surma.
The sad soul comes now and again to the lips,
And then goes back again.
() God! without Thee, what soul
Can recover lost " munsookh " ?
174
(IS.)
The plant of love having broken and fallen.
The fruits of hope are destroyed ;
The branch of distress is grafted here,
And gives pain both day and night.
Hear, O lover, gone afar, that these mine eyes expend
Every day a large sea, but they never borrow from any one.
The hands of these two small black pupils are so free,
That liberality like that of Hatim *
Yields altogether before them.
By the heaving of my heart this breast is always restless.
As the sea becomes ruffled by the leaping of the fishes.
A drop of blood from my heart to-day came.
And stood upon these eyes.
But when it bent to see thy face
That moment it fell and died.
friends, bestow kindness upon this grieved soul,
Rend this breast with a dagger
And take the heart out from it.
The life of this world is like vain painting upon the water
Wise men enjoying " munsookh" consider life as a bubble.
(13.)
My heart considers no other theme
Save that of thy remembrance !
1 give it counsel every way but it will not hear anything.
On account of thy separation
Every hair of my eyelashes burns like a lamp.
Wonderful lamps do people behold.
On the banks of the streams of running water.
* An Arabian chief, proverbial for liberality.
175
By the red water of the heart
This eyelash had become hke blood,
To-day I saw iu the sea of these eyes
A branch of red coral.
Without thee truly I sleep,
But my sighs heave and continue wakeful,
Like a dead body lying upon the ground,
And a fiery lamp burning beside it.
As a weak and aged father
Complains in vain of a disobedient son.
So my soul pains itself exceedingly
By heaving sighs to no purpose.
Looking out for thee, O lover.
The hairs of my eyelashes prick my eyes,
As the skirt of a garment is pierced
By the points of poisonous thorns.
I know not whether, through grief for thee.
It is the heart that burns, or the liver,
But from both there comes forth a bad smoke incessantly.
Weeping, lamentation, beating of the breast.
And death, pertain to a lonely lover.
The " muusookh" of that woman is destroyed who loses
her lover in youth.
(14.)
A long time has passed, O possessor of my heart,
And yet have no tidings come from thee.
Not a verbal salaam has come.
Nor has any written message arrived ;
In my great love for thee this my heart is restless.
The veins and arteries of my body
Are like quivering quicksilver.
176
O lover, a rent has been made in my heart through grief,
When mending it, the point of the needle
Causes blood to flow-
This distracted heart does not discriminate
Between friend and foe,
When the fire rises in flames,
It burns water and oil alike.
In assemblies of lovers
There are no breasts without scars.
As a hoondi (bill) is not honoured
By any shroff without a seal or a sign.
The remembrance of thy graces and attractions
Destroys this my heart ;
O God ! stay this heart,
For it burns my skin, and mind, and body.
Wise "munsookh" like men
Tear the pages of the book of the heart into shreds.
For in this book of a worldly heart
There never was any thing good.
(15.)
The nightingale takes in its beak
The leaves of the rose
And destroys them.
Singing of thy separation, it weeps in torrents.
In a vision of this world I saw
A vivid representation of the judgment.
First, I saw heaven, and afterwards the depths of hell.
I wish to draw sobs and sighs
In the assembly of the afflicted ;
As long as there is breath in me, as in a flute.
So long I wish to complain.
177
I have kept this body erect
^yith the stay of the rod of sighing,
If I cease to breathe forth sighs,
The house of this body will give way altogether,
When I apply to the scars of this heart
The soft cotton-like plasters of counsel,
They are ignited with the fire of my heart.
And make the ghastly wounds fresh within me.
By the thorns of the grief of a lover
I was wounded at every pore,
I was a well-wisher of his, with " munsookh,"
But am now considered his bitter enemy.
(16.)
My heart and my religion
Have gone with thee, my golden one.
Thou hast taken away the golden strength of my soul,
How then shall I remain alive ?
Sight is not able to go beyond the door of mine eye,
Ever since thou, dear-hearted charmer, hast gone,
It has become diseased.
If thou say I will come in thy sleep.
It will prove of uo advantage.
For from the day thou hast been separated
There has been no sleep for me.
On the road of thy thoughts
My sight and my heart so run.
That from my brimful eyes blisters rise upon my feel.
Thy separation always scatters
The fire of grief in my heart,
The pupil of my eye shines from a distance
Like the bright burning lamp of the night.
23 A
178
See, vipon this tearful face.
The spray of the waves of a storm.
See, upon this scarred breast,
The crimson roses of the garden.
As from the body of the thorn
The pollen of the rose drops.
So every drop from my grieved heart,
Falls from these eyelashes.
If I refrain from weeping for a moment.
The lamps of mine eyes would be put out.
Fate has so decreed that they
Should retain brightness only in water.
Now cloud, now rain, and afterv/ards a sprinkling ;
Come and see the fountain of the eye,
How it weeps, being deprived of " munsookh."
(170
The breeze put me in remembrance yesterday
Of the journey of my friend,
I give my heart also to the breeze, happen what may.
The sockets of these eyes
Have become empty of their pearls of tears,
And this, these eye-lashes make known.
Pointing to a distance with fingers.
Until the scar of love becomes old.
Its goodness is not seen.
As a newly-lighted lamp
Does not shine forth with full lustre.
Tears flowing from a heated heart
Have taken away the strength of my soul,
Half its strength has turned to fire, and half to water.
The broken heart having become despairing,
Sends forth its hidden secrets,
II ow can it be that a breaking bottle
Will not make a noise ?
179
By hope only does every thing seem sweet ;
Quench not hope,
For by destroying the store of hope
Thy own value will be still more lessened.
(18.)
Come and flit about this garden, come soon, O nightingale.
Come and see with thine eyes
How the roses of these scars have bloomed.
Thy place is upon the cypress, mine is in the heart,
Who then is here truly miserable ? tell me, O nigbtingalc.
Thou dwellest in the arms of roses, I remain far and alone.
Then see, whether thou or I am in affliction.
See this, O nightingale.
On thy neck is a circle of feathers.
On mine is a chain of iron.
Whose lover is the more cruel ? tell me, O nightingale.
Every morning by thy plaintive strains
Thou bringest great grief upon me.
Thou dost send out fire from thy mouth,
And I burn in the heart, O nightingale.
The true happiness of the world
Is the sweet happiness of a lover.
Without a lover there is no " munsookh,"
But misery ; know thou this, O nightingale.
(19.)
Bedecked in -what joyous colours,
Ilath the spring come upon us to-day,
The moon shines, the breeze blows,
The flowers and trees are blooming.
If to-day's new day were to cause the earth to bloom,
What profit would there be to mc ?
For without a lover, my existence is altogether destroyed.
180
Beholding the fiery colour of roses, my blood Lolls greatly,
Like the wick of a burning lamp
Every bud scorches my heart.
The fragrant and lovely colovired spring has come,
Without the beloved of my heart,
And therefore the bloonning green herb
Appears from a distance like the poisonous tongue of a
serpent.
In the remembrance of the eypress-statured beloved one,
My heart flits about like a dove.
As round about a bright lamp a moth hovers affectionately.
In the garden of this VForld,
People fill their skirts with roses,
But I, through the road of mine eyes.
Fill my lap with precious blood.
The gardener is sweeping all things,
iBuds are opening and blooming,
But of a woman hke me, deprived of a husband,
A life of happiness is burnt up.
(20.)
O bright moon of the eyes of this world.
Why hast thou gone away offended with me ?
O bright candlestick of a black night.
Why hast thou got tired of me ?
In my sorrow from thy separation
Arrow upon arrow issues from my heart.
The quivering breath of my heart
Makes a noise like that of chains.
Alas, alas, alas ! that the " Furhad" of my heart
has departed,
And I, "Shiriu" of a delicate body.
Am crushed by the mountain of separation.
181
Without thee, O heart-soothing man
The garden of this hody is thorny.
The hps of the cup o.f roses pierce me as swords.
By the water of mine eyes verdure has increased -every
where,
The eggs of tlie nightingales in their nests
Have changed their colour to yellow.
I have not plucked any fruits or flowers.
Be not angry with me, gardener,
Know that I have filled these my skirts
With the thorns of my heart only.
Only the birds that have lost their " munsookh"
Give ear to my weeping,
Know thou that their state resembles mine in this garden.
(21.)
I am agonized only through thy separation, O my beloved,
lover, O heart-comforter, O my beloved.
Having seen thy face I gave my heart ;
This now appears as my crime ;
But after robbing my heart, to be non-existent is thy great
tyranny.
To wander in thy search day and night
Has become the decree of my fate.
But, O lover, for thee to remain careless
Will never be considered becoming.
1 have read a book of thy excellence with the master
of love,
But in the tale of faithfulness written there
Was great deception.
The ponderous stone of thy tyranny
Hath fallen upon the bottle of this heart.
It has broken it into atoms,
Yet is there faithfulness in it.
182
Having set thy love upon anotlicr wovkl,
Thou hast made my state miserable ;
This •world has taken my heart
And made it kubah on the fire of love.
I was filling the eyes of my heart
With the dust of thy love like surma,
Hovsr did I know that like a wall
It would grow up at once so high ?
Suddenly a great separation took place,
And thy face became iuAisible.
Pinches of dust heaped up together
And covered up " munsookh," and the health of my body.
(22.)
May no one suifer, in solitude, misery like mine.
My life in solitude endures excessive grief.
Where shall I go ? what shall I do ?
To whom shall I tell my state?
God, who will attend to my cry in this solitude ?
On account of wakeful nights.
My health is becoming spoiled,
1 fill these eyes with blood in solitude.
In the day I wish to complain,
But a sleep of insensibility comes over me.
Women deprived of their husbands
Lose their " munsookh," and suffer afflictions in solitude.
(23.)
O Maker of the rose !
Why hast thou brought calamity on the rose?
Having made it beautiful with the tints of love,
Why hast thou plucKed it from the garden ?
183
Standing in this garden I grieve so excessively,
That the hearts of nightingales and insects weep and
lament.
The roses having torn them, my garments are in a ruined
state.
The garden is overflowing with hlood,
Where is the man to remedy it ?
In the expectation of that heart-comforter,
"Wherever I open my straitened eyes.
My sight turns backward and stings me like a scorpion.
This time of tasting the sweets,
Is passing in grief and weeping.
Alas ! if the spring passes thus,
Then how will the bad season speed ?
I walk about every morning
In the remembrance of that rose-like face.
Having made my eyes wet like dew,
I wash away all bodily happiness and " munsookh."
(24.)
I will not draw back the hands of my heart,
A.S long as I have not my desire ;
Either my wish must be gratified.
Or I shall be destroyed from this life.
(I will not draw back, &c )
As the moth goes round the lantern, about tlie shining
light.
So wander I, day and night.
In the intoxication of the fire of my love.
(I will not draw back, &c)
The road of thy sanctuary is wholly filled with hearts.
Then how shall I, of delicate body.
Talk with thee amid such a concourse ?
(I will not draw back, &c.)
184
As a poor man finding a pearl
Hides it from tlio sight of others,
So take I the ashes of thy sanctuary,
And hide them near these eyes.
(I will not draw hack, &c.)
What wonder if a heart
That has sat in thy sanctuary does not return ?
The bird that has sat in the garden
Does not remember its cage.
(I will not draw back, &;c.)
Truly gracious Lord as thou art,
Bestow "munsookh" on helpless me ;
Though the colour of roses is fiery,
Yet the thorns are not burnt up.
(I will not draw back, &c.)
«
(25.)
Over thy misfortune, O heart.
Thou weepest incessantly in vain,
But as is the decree of nature
So only does any thing happen.
Without weeping, how could I open
The hands of my eyelashes upon thy face ?
Without washing, how could I put
My defiled hands to the scriptures ?
By tears only my heart has its way pointed out to it.
As by the starry lamps
The pilots find their way on the sea.
Notwithstanding this my greatness.
Tear-drops flow down in streams.
Thanks, to remember a friend,
They serve as a rosary of beads.
185
I stand in the stream of these tears
Immersed up to the waist.
If thou hast become my enemy,
I also have girded my loins for shedding blood.
In the cradle of these eyes sleep does not find rest.
The children of tears flowing, weeping,
Sit always in their lap.
As newly planted trees have need always of water,
So to me, who am newly absorbed in grief,
There is truly need of weeping.
Without thee, O " munsookh"-like man,
Weeping, distress, doubts, and anxieties.
Come in my heart on every pretence,
And keep me both night and day wakeful.
(26.)
What oppression has thy love exercised upon my heart !
It has robbed me of peace and rest,
And fixed in me pain and grief.
God knows that apart from thee
I have no kind of peace,
By day there is no strength to bear my solitude.
And at night there is no sleep from loneliness.
By thy separation past griefs have revived iu my heart.
Do not ask me an account of my pain,
For my diary has been altogether spoiled.
Like a wick in a little lamp,
I keep wet the lashes of mine eyes,
And as the lamp burns through the night,
So weep I all night till the dawn.
A string of tears like a chain.
Is twisted around my neck ;
Some day, leaving the border of my raiment,
It will unexpectedly hang me.
24 a
186
O, ye eyes, do not cast
These children of tears upon the dust !
For I have spent my Hfe in bringing them up ;
I have made them drink the blood of my heart.
As a tear is not afraid of the stormy raging of the sea.
So a woman deprived of her husband,
Having lost " munsookh," is not afraid of the world.
(S7.)
The moon and stars shine wonderfully.
Pleasure and singing will be delightful;
How many nights have gone, how many days ?
When will the heart-possessor come ?
I have sat as it were
In milk on this pleasant moonlight night,
Because by the remembrance of thy black locks,
I was stung as by a black serpent.*
The clear light of the full moon
Is indeed exceedingly pleasant.
But without thee, O angel-faced possessor of my heart,
It is a destroyer of life like the " Sapid Dev."
From love, words sit upon my tongue as lamps ;
I speak, I burn, I weep.
And my heart is as black as a wick.
O dear friend of bright countenance,
Without the lustre of thy forehead
]My palace even by the sun
Does not become enlightened.
* It is said that physicians of eastern countries having given
medicine to a man stung by serpents, sometimes make him sit
in a vessel full of milk that the medicine may have a good
effect upon him. It must be understood that this is the custom
alluded to in the above verse.
187
By the rising of the sun
The whole world is fully enlightened,
But to the hearts of poor sad inotha
It is as it were a grievous darkness.
It is said that in the prayer of the morning
A good man may obtain true " munsookh."
But will my night of grief change to morning ?
That a suitable prayer might be offered.
(28.)
In a dark night, palace and garden
Without my lover are a desert.
Vessels and roses too are there.
But without thee my soul does not enjoy them.
At night on account of thy absence alone
My heart is burnt, and my mind disconsolate ;
My eyes remain wakeful
But the drowsiness of sleep rests upon my fate.
The evil night of separation
Does not give an omen of meeting ;
It is a dreadful night of despondency.
When no time of hope is afforded.
The limbs of my distressed body have become so feeble,
That by a breeze of air
My hands and feet tremble as waves.
Through weakness the breath of sighs even
Comes out by little and little.
While coming from the breast to the lips
It rests at a hundred places !
My body has become so thin that the sight of the beholder
Might penetrate to my heart !
Wherever my footsteps are placed,
There they are bound as with chains !
188
That I am alive this day.
Do not consider the eiFect of a hard lieart.
But my weakness has become so great
That my soul is unable to come to my lips !
Without the beloved one.
Strength stays not in the body of a lover.
Little by little he loses his " munsookh,"
And at the end his life and understanding.
(29.)
Oh my lover ! what a trial thy love is ?
What shall I say in exposing thy unfaithfulness ?
When I draw from my heart
The cold breath of a deep sigh,
Tears get congealed in the goblet of my eyes.
And turn to solid ice !
How can the weak horse of this body.
Withstand the infliction of the stripes of sighs ?
By a heap of grass
How can a flash of bright lightning be hindered ?
As always a touch-stone recognizes only gold.
So in these black eyes thy golden face is all things.
As by the drops of the water of (thawing) ice.
The heart of the sun is not wetted,
So a sea has no effect
Upon the burning heart of a lover.
As upon the bed of an extinguished lamp
There remains a black-coloured smoke,
So nothing remains with a lover after death but sighs.
As to the shop of a bottle maker.
Broken bottles go, and lie there.
So a broken heart, for its cure
Goes to the sanctuary of the beloved.
189
As from cotton wet with water
A thread cannot be drawn ovit,
So eyes havhig become wet with weeping,
The sight is quite shut up.
In the remembrance of the sun of thy face
Stars fall from mine eyes,
By this the world is ruined.
And mine eyes are hurt by thee.
Enter thou by the way of my heart
And sit upon mine eyes.
By the way of the furnace of fire (heart)
Walk around the sea-
Upon the spectacle of thy face
Mine eye is so earnestly fixed
That in the embrace of mine eyelashes
Thoughts of sleep do not rest.
On the banks of the watery fountain
The subja of the eyelash grows.
Yet by the inward fire doth it burn and wither,
A^aried and beautiful " munsookh"-like words.
The pain of this separation speaks,
In a friendless life nobody will find happiness.
(30.)
To whom shall I show the burning blisters within me ?
How long shall I silently suffer
The oppression of thee, my beloved i
On account of thy absence.
This body has become a furnace of fire.
Nobody searches with carefulness
Where the arrows of love are stuck .
190
So innumerable are the ilirhems* of scars,
Which have fallen upon my heart,
That I could easily be a supplier of the world
In the time of scarcity.
As in a ruined house,
No one can long remain at rest,
So little by little -will my grief also depart.
O ye nightingales of the garden,
Scatter roses upon me gently.
For in the embrace of this hotly,
Is the delicate precious bottle of the heart.
At length by the fire of sighs.
Hundreds of clefts have been formed in my heart.
By the waves of the water of mine eyes
The wall of the garden of my body has been undermined.
When the heart rots from disease
It must be kept far from the breast.
However dear a person may die,
Dust has to be cast upon him.
From evening to morning mine eyes count the stars.
The work that belongs to the fingers of my hand,
That mine eyelashes perform.
These eyelashes becoming dry from lack of moisture,
Have separated from mine eyes.
What shall I do Avith the string
If the pearls themselves have been burnt ?
Do not think that the hairy lashes
Upon these eyes are soft,
They are thorns in the feet of mine eyes.
In the road of thy separation !
* "Dirhems," (spelt in the usual way of English books,) is
a silver coin worth about three annas.
191
All religious men tell us
There will be questions and answers at the jutlgmcnt day,
But these words of " munsookh"
Bring the true judgment day to my mind.
(31.)
I had cherished my heart with various expectations,
But suddenly have I fallen into a pit,
Through lack of carefulness.
How can this heart protect itself
From the wounds of the swords of thy love ?
There is no shield upon it, save that of scars.
Lovers bind the fragments of their hearts
With a string of sighs.
And they use it as a rosary
In their prayers day and night.
The scars of my breast,
Having rotted through my tears,
Have turned to running ulcers ;
Behold my wretched fate.
My body's rose-garden is burnt by the frost.
Let nobody strike the bottle of my heart
With the stone of reproach ;
For, like a drop of quicksilver.
Quivers this restless body.
As from a cracked bottle
An agreeable sound does not come.
So the condition of broken-hearted lovers
Never can be pleasant.
The scars of grief upon the surface of my heart burn,
As fragments of incense in the face of fire.
The running wounds of hearts
192
Cannot be bound up by physicans,
Even as by the hands of no one
Can the lips of seas be sewn.
Except the afflicted ones
None know the pains of the afflicted,
To roses in which there is no scent
The nightingale pays no honour.
The limbs of this withering body
Do not bloom under the influence of spring,
Like the scars on the heart of the tulip
]\Iy black fate remains unchanged.
Without thee the garden has lost
All colour, charm, and fragrance ;
The nightingale murmurs
Taking the blood-red roses in his sight.
Remembering thee, O rose-faced,
I went out to walk in the garden.
But " munsookh" having gone, I wetted mine eyes
As with dew, and then I wept in torrents.
(32.)
Through love for thee a mountain of grief
Has suddenly fallen upon my head,
I have lost the peace and joy of this life.
And suffered great afflictions.
As without their parents little children do not go out,
So without the fragments of the heart.
Streams of tears do not flow.
The waters of these eyes both day and night,
"Wash the scars of this my heart,
Remembering thee, without weeping,
193
Is like prayer without ablution.
To see thy face the feet of these mine eyes.
Run so much by day and night that they are sprained.
From the mountain as it were of my heart,
The fountain of my tears issues.
But by the flood of this very fountain,
I will sweep away that mountain.
These tears, on account of thy absence,
Have gradually become a sea ;
Sit thou in the boat of this eye,
And come here quickly for an excursion.
The water of weeping
Makes clear my blood-filled eyes.
As the dew of night, like oil.
Keeps bright the lamp of a tulip.
These children of tears pluck fragrant roses
From the garden of the heart.
And like a gardener's basket mine eye
lias become a receptacle for flowers.
From my eyes how can
The scalding, flowing water of tears be stopped /
There is no power in any man to prevent the rain.
As the head of a slanderer is hung upon the gallows,
So for the crime of divulging secrets,
Tears hang upon the eyelashes.
This my weak body has fallen.
Far away from the rose of thy face.
Into the neck of my soul, as it were,
Poisonous thorns arc piercing.
The full moon has gone, but alas,
The night of grief has not gone,
It is fixed as it were with a nail
Among the stars of darkness.
25 A
194
I dreamed at night that
Thy " munsookh"-hke counteuance would quickly
meet me.
At which the night of my grief became bright as the day.
(33.)
I wish for thy company — thou desirest solitude,
How then can I show thee the attachment of my heart ?
beloved, pure love of any kind
Doth not appear in thee.
For in the goblet of my life
Thou hast thrown the agonizing poison of separation.
Through this bitterness,
The oppressive plunderer, death, is as it were, so scared.
That he makes no assault to rob my precious life.
Without thee the blood of these eyes is my wine,
The frenzy of my heart burns like a lamp at a banquet.
Burning with fire day and night,
1 make all the blood of my body ashes, —
But by some strange means
No sign whatever of smoke is seen there.
The whole sense of my heart is stolen,
All knowledge and patience are stolen.
What value must be set on my thief?
For he has taken both
The treasure and the abode of my soul !
In the atmosphere of the garden of love
I became a flying cloud with passion.
I did not pluck the flower of hope,
And like dew fell upon the ground.
195
The tliouglit of tliee only is in my heart,
I am the heart myself.
Of senselessness, misery, and unprofitableness.
This my heart has become a home.
With the remembrance of thy words,
INIy ears having been filled.
Mine eyes have become empty ;
Come, for it is now a matter of life.
And my soul has come even to my li])S.
On the mirror of the cu.p of this breast.
The breath of hope still lingers.
If thou wouldst take the trouble to meet me,
My state would become enlightened .
My soul flies toward thee.
And my distracted heart wanders here ;
The dry grass of my body, is as it were,
Drawn in opposite ways, by two pieces of amber.
Thou didst purpose taking a journey,
And made my heart sorrowful,
Thou didst gird up the loins of thy courage.
And rooted out mine altogether.
light of mine eyes, thou hast gone.
And these eyes are here without light.
Thou hast left me in a forest of darkness,
And hast gone away from the city.
At the time of thy journey,
Weeping was a lock on my lips.
Although I desired to speak,
1 could not utter even a word.
Thou wentest on thy journey with pleasure,
Leaving me here wounded ;
Having severed our affection,
Without reason thou took'st griet's calm away vrith thee.
19G
Forsaking thy own bright country.
Thou wcntest suddenly to a foreign shore.
Therefore do mine eyes turn round and round.
Revolving like the stars.
possessor of my heart, strange is the quality
Of the fire of thy separation,
The further and further it goes.
The more and more it burns.
Through incessant crying
Innumerable blisters have come upon this tongue,
In the sea of my sorrowful eyes,
" ^lunsookh" and rest have been drowned.
(34.)
This truly is the subject
Of my prayer day and night,
That by striving with my body and mind,
1 may obtain the beloved of my heart.
Alms from the house of a well wishing friend.
Are better than a kingdom.
By the remembrance of thy actual love.
The world appears altogether unfaithful.
Ever since I reposed
The head of my heart on this place,
This light of the lofty sun has been my pillow.
None has seen thy face.
While lakhs of souls are thy lovers.
Though thou art hidden like a bud,
Yet the nightingales lose their senses.
I will become soft and black coloured ashes upon thy altar,
For there is no venturing to approach thee,
Save in the shape of ashes.
197
The body is ashes, the soul ashes.
Water and fire are also ashes,
Without thee all things are ashes,
Without thee even " munsookh " is ashes.
(35.)
ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.— AN ODE.
Upon my wretchedness look with pity.
Since Thou only art the heart-soother of the world ;
Grant the desires of this poor one, me.
For Thou only art the true provider.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
If the reflection of the light of thy love
Were to fall upon me,
I should be fully exalted to the heaven like the sun.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
If the Iloma bird of Thy favour
Were to fly upon my head,
Then the moon, stars, and the whole world
Would receive light from me.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
Before whom shall I speak my words ?
Since Thou only art the restorer.
From whom may I expect redress of my griefs ?
Since Thou art both the worlds' great king.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
I humbly cling as dust
To the skirts of thy garment.
Lift me up with the breeze of Thy love.
And make me reach Thy sanctuary,
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
198
There is no need of making
A representation of grievances in Tliy presence.
Nobody's secrets and designs,
And nobody's sbame are hidden from Thee.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
Though I am in poor circumstances,
What doth it matter ?
If Thou art the remedy of all griefs,
Of what use is it to seek another ?
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
On every occasion I have
Need of Thy favours only.
Whether my conduct or works
Be meritorious, or bad or good.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
By the alchemy of Thy love.
Turn the dust of my actions into gold,
For times and seasons, and grace and wrath,
Are in the hands of Thy infinite power.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
Thou art worthy of all command,
I am thy order-bearer.
Hundreds of foes would be discomfited,
If the crown of Thy friendship were upon my head.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
I am keeping in this heart,
All things reminding me of Thee,
And this eye, I have filled.
With the pure pearls of Thy favour.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
199
I am far from Thee in body.
But my spirit is near Thee,
Whether I am worthy or not worthy,
Yet my services are bestowed upon Thee only.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
WTierever I look in this world,
A fondness for Thy worship arises.
Since both the worlds are Thy abode,
How can I place confidence in another ?
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
Wherever I walk in body or in mind,
There all authority is Thine,
"NMiether I am near or whether I am far,
I am still the ashes of Thy sanctuary.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
Though Thou art hidden from my eyes.
Thou existest in my soul.
Sitting, lying down, my soul cries
Day and night, O Thou, O Thou !
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
In the circle of Thy dominion,
I am like a point of the compass,
Thou canst show love, show wrath.
Or make my hand exalted.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
In faithfulness and friendship,
I am pure gold of the finest quality ;
Test me as Thou pleascst with the touchstone.
Thou wilt find no defect in mc.
(Upon my wretchedness look, &c.)
200
Make me happy, lessen my grief,
Anil remove my anxiety of mind.
Grant me love in my soul,
Fondness in my heart.
And the remembrance of "munsookh" in my lips.
(36.)
PETITION TO THE ALMIGHTY.— AN ODE.
I have fixed my mind upon Thee only,
O Lord, pure and bountiful Creator,
Thou art the Lord of Great Power,
The whole earth and heaven depend upon Thee,
(I have fixed my mind, &c.)
Upon the moon, sun, stars, water,
Wind, mountains, beasts and birds,
Whales, fishes, insects, and men.
Thy boundless favours rest.
(I have fixed my mind, &c.)
All powerful and incomparable art Thou,
Ever revealed yet ever hidden.
Do good unto me,
O world's life, O world's Lord, holy provider.
(I have fixed my mind, &c.)
Highest of all, greatest supporter !
O merciful, O bounteous, show me mercy,
Remove every fear and misery,
And lay upon me the weight of happiness.
(I have fixed my mind, &c)
201
Truly bending ni}' head with shame,
I have surrendered myself,
Hold this base hand with love and encouragement.
And bear me safely through this world.
(I have fixed my mind, &c.)
Whatever petition I ask of Thee,
That do Thou fully grant,
"With justice and mercy put away my distresses,
And keep my heart religious.
(1 have fixed my mind, &c.)
Preserve my reputation in the world.
And lengthen my life.
My fame, well being, and righteous action,
All do Thou, O Lord, sustain.
(I have fixed my mind, &c.)
Thou only art the coverer of sins.
Thou only the forgivcr,
Thou the beginning, Thou the end.
Thou art above, Thou art beneath.
Thou art all righteousness and love !
(I have fixed my mind, &c.)
Imperfect, imperfect, the whole world is imperfect.
Except Thee, all is imperfect !
Ended — ended — "Munsookh's" work is ended.
But Thy name and work endure for ever ! ! !
(I have fixed my mind, &c.)
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