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Today, it is an honor to present selections from “The Merchant and The Parrot” in “The Masnavi,” translated by Sir James William Redhouse. In this parable, the venerated Master Rumi explores the soul’s yearning for spiritual freedom. The Merchant and the Parrot “A merchant there was, who a parrot did own; Confined in a cage, wisest bird in the town. […]Just so is the soul. Its tale, just parrot’s tale. O, where is the One to whom all souls make wail? Where is the man, feeble, who’s yet innocent? His heart, Solomon, and his whole armament. When he, with tears bitter, is heard to complain, The seven vaults of Heaven re-echo the strain. In anguish he groans; GOD, in mercy, him hears. His cry is: ‘O Lord!’ And GOD wipes off his tears. Abasement in him, is by GOD highly prized. His blasphemies, over other men’s faith are raised. Each instant, in soul, he ascends to Heaven’s gate; His mitre’s with crowns capped, of infinite state. His frame’s here on Earth; his pure soul with the Lord In Heaven’s highest sphere, above man’s thought or word. […]The former had promised, at latter’s request, To give to the birds of far Hind his bequest. So when he had reached that land, greatly renowned In wooded retreat, flock of parrots he found. He stopped […], cried out, at top of his voice, That message his Polly had made, as his choice. One bird of the flock, he saw, then took to quake, Fell prone to the earth; no more breath seemed to take. The merchant regret felt for what he had done, Exclaiming: ‘Alas! The poor bird I’ve slain, lone! That creature was surely related to Poll; Two bodies; one soul; just as is magic doll. Why did I deliver that fatal message? I’ve killed a collateral of Poll’s lineage!’ The tongue, by itself, acts just like flint and steel. A word from it, fire-like, we scathing can feel. Strike not, then, so rashly, fire’s sparks from thy tongue, In message or talk, feeble hearers among. The night is pitch dark; strewn around, cotton beds. Among beds of cotton, it is, sparks one most dreads. He sins who, unmindful of dire consequence, Lets fall spoken spark, fires a whole world, immense. One rash word may set an assembly ablaze. Molehills into mountains, and higher, it can raise.” [...]
