The Parliament of Birds

The hoopoe said: "Appearances delight
The heart that cannot see Truth's dawning light;
You are as blind by day as in the night --
Your life's a crawling ant's. What essence lies
In surfaces? A void! Direct your eyes
To meaning's core; gold is a stone, and you
Are like a child attracted by its hue.
It is an idol when it holds the soul
Back from its God -- hide it in some dark hole!
And if it is a sovereign remedy
It also has a foul utility
(Men make a ring of it that stops a mule
From being covered). O unhappy fool,
Who's helped by all this gold? And what real pleasure
Can you derive from heaps of glittering treasure?
If you can give a dervish just a grain
You'll nag at him, or wish it back again!
It's true that backed by gold you'll never lack
For friends -- your friendship's brand burns every back!
Each month you count the profits from your trade,
What trade! -- your soul's been sold, the bargain's made.
Life's sweetness passes and you spend your time
Scrabbling for farthings -- isn't this a crime?
You give this All for nothing, while your heart
Is given wholly to the merchant's art;
But underneath your gibbet I shall wait
Until its steps are jerked away by Fate.
How many times you'll hang! Each sliding noose
Will seem a hundred burning flames -- what use
Will your religion, gold, be to you then?
Or when you're drowned, you business acumen?
In that last tumult as you gasp for air
You'll know your doom and shriek in while despair.
Remember the Koran: "You cannot gain
Salvation while the things you love remain."
You must abandon all things that exist;
Even the soul itself must be dismissed --
Renounce its fellowship; it too must go,
Along with all you own and all you know.
If you have made this world a place for sleep,
Your bed's the load that makes the Way so steep --
Burn it! and pass beyond what merely seems;
You can't deceive the Truth with sleepy dreams.
Let fear persuade you, and the fire is lit;
Burn your bed now if you would rise from it.