This love here forms the centre which expands on all sides
and into all regions.--HEGEL.
Although Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí lived for fifty years in a Turkish city he
scarcely ever used any Turkish words; but nevertheless his influence on
Turkish poetry was very considerable. The Turkish poets of that day
poured forth innumerable "spiritual couplets" of a mystical nature.
Indeed nearly all the Ottoman poets were either Súfís or men who wrote
after the manner of the Persian Súfís. Jalál's son, Sultan Valad, wrote
in Turkish the following concerning his father:
Wot ye well Mevláná is of saints the Pole;
Whatsoever thing he sayeth, do in whole.
All his words are mercies from the Heavenly King;
Such that blind folks' eyes were opened, did they sing.
The Súfí influence on Turkish poetry, many years after Jalál's death,
gradually weakened as time went on, and their poetry became less
mystical. The French were probably responsible for this change to a
certain extent.
Then, again, Súfíism influenced the poetry of India; but in this case
there was influence on both sides, and the Súfís probably borrowed some
of the Buddhistic ideas, especially in regard to their later conception
of Divine absorption. The following remark of Abú Bahu al-Shiblí
certainly points to the belief that the Súfís inculcated certain ideas
from the Vedanta Philosophy:--"_Tasawwuf_ is control of the faculties
and _observance of the breaths._"
Súfí poetry has greatly influenced Western thought. Many of the German
mystics wrote as the Súfí poets had written before them. Particularly
might be mentioned Eckhart, Tauler and Suso. Concerning the last
mentioned I may quote the following passage to demonstrate my meaning:
"Earthly friends must needs endure to be distinct and separate from
those whom they love; but Thou, O fathomless sweetness of all true
love, meltest into the heart of Thy beloved, and pourest Thyself fully
into the essence of his soul, that nothing of Thee remains outside, but
Thou art joined and united most lovingly with Thy beloved." There was
rapturous language both with the Persian and German mystics. The great
difference between them was that the German mystics, for the most part,
were ascetics, the Persians were not. Then again in the nineteenth
century Hegel was loud in his praise of Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí, calling him
a great thinker as well as a great poet, but somehow he seems to put
Jalál's Pantheism first, his Mysticism second. Surely this was putting
the cart before the horse?
To trace the scope of the influence of Súfí thought in England would
be extremely interesting, but the limits of this little book will
not admit of our doing so. The influence was at first among the few;
but optimistic lovers of the East believe that Oriental thought is
daily becoming of more interest to Western minds. The student knows
that Edward FitzGerald's rendering of Omar Khayyám, was anything but
a faithful translation; that FitzGerald shook up Omar's words like
so many dice and set them to the music of wine, roses, and pessimism.
The Omar Khayyám Club read FitzGerald, but not Omar Khayyám, and in
consequence they have fallen into the error of associating Omar with
Bacchus. But, nevertheless, we must be grateful to FitzGerald. He has
given us a great poem, and stirred, let us hope, many of his countless
readers to a more faithful study of Persian poetry. The indefatigable
Dr. Johnson has written the following on the Persian poet, who is the
subject of our present volume: "He makes plain to the Pilgrim the
secrets of the Way of Unity, and unveils the Mysteries of the Path of
Eternal Truth." Concerning our modern poets I have quoted elsewhere
a few lines of Mr. Arthur Symons on a dancing dervish. Many of the
late Thomas Lake Harris's poems are of a Súfí nature. In Mr. Stephen
Phillip's beautiful poem "Marpessa," the following lines are full of
Sidi mysticism:
For they,
Seeking that perfect face beyond the world,
Approach in vision earthly semblances,
And touch, and at the shadows flee away.
It is interesting to note that at least one celebrated Englishman
adopted the Súfí teaching. I refer to Sir Richard Burton.[7] The Súfís
believed heart and soul in the beautiful lines of Cameons, the poet
for whom Burton had so great an affection:
Do what thy manhood bids thee do, from none but self expect applause.
He noblest lives and noblest dies who makes and keeps his self-made laws.
All other life is living death, a world where none but phantoms dwell;
A breath, a wind, a sound, a voice, a tinkling of the camel-bell.