Feeling and Thinking - Jalaluddin Rumi
Someone struck Zayd a hard blow from behind. He was
about to retaliate,
When his assailant cried, "Let me ask you a question:
first answer it, then strike me.
I struck the nape of your neck, and there was the sound
of a slap. Now I ask you in a friendly way--
'Was the sound caused by my hand or by your neck,
O pride of the noble?'"
Zayd said, "The pain I am suffering leaves me no time to
reflect on this problem.
Ponder it yourself: he who feels the pain cannot think of
things like this."
In the grand scheme of things this is what finding a dusty, coverless book in a backroom in Pakistan leads to. Badly printed as it was, my uncle - when he heard me reading the poems to his children kindly pointed out that they were from Rumi, and although, clearly it was in english, there was no indication of the author. He also proceeded to recite them in urdu, and put the english to shame. (Things like this happen a lot in Pakistan.) Anyways, no idea who the pakistani translator was, enjoy the poem!