Chapter 2 The Kingdom of the Prophets (Part 2)

The Kingdom of the Prophets (Part Two) - - "You have always sung about God, the infinite God, but you have not actually heard the song. If only you had heard the birds singing and the rustling of the leaves as they were blown away by the wind, do not forget , my friends, the leaves sing only when they are free from their boughs! "I repeat my admonition to you: don't talk lightly about God, He is everything to you. Better talk and understand each other, neighbor to neighbor, one god to another. "If the female bird flies high into the sky, how can the young birds in the nest feed? If the bees do not pollinate the autumn peonies, how will the autumn peonies in the field complete their flowering period?

"If the female bird flies high into the sky, how can the young birds in the nest feed? If the bees do not pollinate the autumn peonies, how will the autumn peonies in the field complete their flowering period? "It is only when you are lost in your I, that you seek the heaven you call God. May you strive to find the way to your greater self, may you be less lazy, Pave the road of Tongheng with hard work. "My sailors! Friends! It would be wise to talk less of a God we cannot understand and more of each other we can understand. Nevertheless, I want you to understand that we are the breath of God and Fragrance, we are God - in the leaves, in the flowers, and in the fruit."

One morning, when the sun had risen high, a disciple, one of his three childhood playmates, approached him and said, "Master, my clothes are torn and I have nothing else to wear, please let me I'll leave for a while and go to the market to bargain and maybe get a new dress." One morning, when the sun had risen high, a disciple, one of his three childhood playmates, approached him and said, "Master, my clothes are torn and I have nothing else to wear, please let me I will leave for a while to go to the market to bargain, and maybe I can buy a new dress." Al-Mustafa looked at the young man and said, "Give me your clothes." So the young man did so, naked standing in the sun.

Al-Mustafa spoke, his voice like a colt galloping down the road: "Only the naked can live in the sun; only the unadorned can ride the wind; only Al-Mustafa spoke, his voice like a colt galloping down the road: "Only the naked can live in the sun; only the unadorned can ride the wind; Only those who can return to their hometown. "Angels are weary of the wise. Just yesterday an angel said to me: We have made hell for those who are brilliant. There is nothing but fire that can take away a shining appearance, and turn a What about melting and revealing its essence? "Angels are weary of the wise. Just yesterday an angel said to me: We have made hell for those who are brilliant. There is nothing but fire that can take away a shining appearance, and turn a to melt and reveal its essence?" I said: But while you are building hell, you are also building the devils who run hell.And the angel replied: No, the rulers of hell are those for whom the fire can do nothing.

"Wise angel, she knows how to divide men and demi-humans. She is one of the seraphs who descended to the earth to help the prophets when they were tempted by wisdom. No doubt, when the prophets laughed She laughs when the prophets cry, and she weeps when the Prophets cry. "Wise angel, she knows how to divide men and demi-humans. She is one of the seraphs who descended to the earth to help the prophets when they were tempted by wisdom. No doubt, when the prophets laughed She laughs when the prophets cry, and she weeps when the prophets cry. "My friends and sailors, only the naked can live in the sun; only the helmsman without a rudder can ride the waves of the wider sea; Only the soul of those who are dark with the night can wake up with the dawn; only those who sleep with the roots under the snow can catch up with the spring.

"This is because you are like rhizomes, yes, as simple as rhizomes, but you have the wisdom of the earth. You are silent, but in your unbroken branches lies the quartet of spring. "This is because you are like rhizomes, yes, as simple as rhizomes, but you have the wisdom of the earth. You are silent, but in your branches and leaves that have not yet sprouted, there is a quartet of spring." You are weak And formless, yet you are the beginning of the mighty oak, and the forerunner of the mighty willow. "Again I tell you, you are but rhizomes between the heavy earth and the moving sky. I have often seen you soaring to dance with the sun, but I have also seen your shyness. All rhizomes are shy Bright, they hid their hearts for so long that they didn't know what to make that heart do.

"Again I tell you, you are but rhizomes between the heavy earth and the moving sky. I have often seen you soaring to dance with the sun, but I have also seen your shyness. All rhizomes are shy Bright, they have hid their hearts for so long that they don't know what to do with them." But May is coming, and May is the restless virgin who will watch over the mountains and plain. " A disciple who once served in the temple said humbly: "Please teach us, master! Let our words be like your words, and become a hymn to people, and the fragrance will be lingering." A disciple who once served in the temple said humbly: "Please teach us, master! Let our words be like your words, and become a hymn to people, with a fragrance." Al-Mustafa replied Say: "You will transcend your words, but the paths you walk will always be music and fragrance: a music to the loved and the loved, a fragrance to those who yearn for life in the garden.

Fat yes, you will rise above your words to a starry peak, and you will stretch out your hands until they are full; then you will lie down, like plumed white birds that sleep in their white nests .You will dream of your tomorrow as the white violet dreams of spring. Fat yes, you will rise above your words to a starry peak, and you will stretch out your hands until they are full; then you will lie down, like plumed white birds that sleep in their white nests .You will dream of your tomorrow as the white violet dreams of spring. "Yes, you too will sink, and you will dive into the deepest places of your words. You will seek the source of the lost streams, and you will be hidden caves, echoing with the soft voices of deep valleys that you cannot hear now. echo.

"Yes, you shall go farther than your words, yes, deeper than all voices, and descend to the heart of the earth. There you shall be alone with him who also walks the galaxy." "Yes, you shall go farther than your words, yes, deeper than all voices, and descend to the heart of the earth. There you shall be alone with him who also walks the galaxy." After a while, a disciple asked him, "Master, please tell us about existence. What is existence?" Al-Mustafa looked at him lovingly and for a long time, stood up, took a few steps, then turned back, and said: In this garden, my parents are buried forever, they were buried by the hands of living people bury.In this garden are also buried the seeds of yesterday, which were brought here on the wings of the wind.My father and mother will be buried here a thousand times, and the seeds will be buried a thousand times by the wind.A thousand years from now, you, me and these flowers will come to this garden together, just like now.We will exist, loving life; we will exist, dreaming of the universe; we will exist, soaring toward the sun. "But today, to exist is to be wise, not to treat fools as duplicity; to be strong, not to bully the weak; as eager to learn a child's game as a companion.

"To exist is to be simple and natural, to be kind to the aged and elders, to sit with them in the shadow of the old oak, though you are still in step with the spring. "To exist is to be simple and natural, to be kind to the elderly, to sit with them under the shadow of the old oak, though you are still in step with the spring." Existence is to visit a poet, even if he lives far away from the seven rivers.Be peaceful and quiet before him, don't hope for anything, don't doubt anything, and don't hang doubts on your lips. "To exist is to recognize that the saint and the criminal are twin brothers whose father is our merciful king, and that the one was born only a moment before the other, so that we recognize the former as the crowned prince.

"To exist is to follow beauty, even if she leads you to the edge of a precipice; though she has wings and you have no wings, though she is about to cross the abyss, follow her, for where there is no beauty, there is nothing . "To be is to be a garden without walls, a vineyard without guards, a treasury open to all who pass by. "To exist is to be the robbed, the deceived, the deceived, oh, the led astray, the snared and ridiculed. Yet you go through all this from the height of your Big Self and Smile, you know that spring will come to your garden, dancing among the leaves, and autumn will ripen your grapes; Those who are called criminals, thieves, and liars are really your brothers. You, in the eyes of the fortunate inhabitants of the invisible city above this city, may be just such people. "Now, I also tell you - people with creative arms who can find everything we need to comfortably pass day and night: "To exist is to be a weaver with skillful hands, an architect deep in light and space, a farmer who feels that he has buried a treasure every time he sows a seed, a pity for fish and birds and beasts but more pity Fisherman and hunter of the hungry and the poor. "And above all this I say this: I wish each of you and each of your partners, whoever they may be, to be partners with others in achieving their goals, so that you may achieve your own good wishes. "My companions, dear ones! Be brave, not shrinking; be open-minded, not narrow-minded. When the last hour of mine and yours comes, it will be the time when your greater selves will be fulfilled. " Al-Mustafa stopped talking, and waves of worry flooded the faces of the nine disciples, and their hearts turned away from him, because they failed to comprehend all he had said. See, those three sailors began to think of the sea; those three who served in the temple longed for the comfort of the sanctuary;They couldn't hear his words, so that the voice turned back to him, like a tired bird without a nest, looking for a shelter. El-Mustafa walked in the garden, keeping a distance from them.He was silent and ignored them. They began to discuss, trying to find out the reasons for their eagerness to leave. Look, they're gone, going to different places.Thus, Al-Mustafa, chosen and loved, was left alone. The night fell and the night was dark.He strolled to his mother's grave and sat under a tall cedar tree.At this moment, a strong light flashed across the sky, illuminating the garden like a shining pearl on the breast of the earth. Al-Mustafa cried out loudly from the depths of his lonely soul: he sighed: "My soul is burdened with ripe fruit, who will pick it? Who will share it joyfully? Will there not be a kind and generous host who breaks his fast with the first generous gift I offer to the sun to relieve me? A burden of abundance? "My soul overflows with the old wine, and is there not one thirsty to drink? "Behold, there is a man standing at a crossroads. He stretches out his jeweled hands to passers-by, calling to passers-by: Have mercy on me! Please take these things away! For God's sake, take them from my hands." Go, comfort me! "But the passers-by just looked at him, and no one took the jewels in his hand. "May he be a beggar who stretches out his hand! Yes, tremblingly stretches out his hand" "Behold, there is also a noble prince who is erecting a tent of silk between the mountains and the desert, and he orders his servants to light the bearded fire as a guidepost for the stranger and the lost. He also sends his servants to watch at the On the side of the road, waiting for the arrival of guests. However, the road in the desert was desolate and deserted, and they did not see a single person. "Would that the prince was a rootless common man seeking food and lodging; wished he were a vagabond who had nothing but a cane and a crutch, so that he might pass at night with vagabonds like himself and A poet with nowhere to go, who would share his abject poverty, memories and dreams. "Behold! the king's daughter is waking up from her sleep; she is clothed in silk and pearls and jewels, and her hair is perfumed with perfume, and her fingers are anointed with glass, and then she goes downstairs to her garden, where the night dew drenches Wet her golden shoes. "Quiet night, the king's daughter is looking for her love in the garden, but there is no one who loves her in the huge kingdom of her father. "She would rather be a farmer's daughter, grazing sheep in the field, returning to her father's farmhouse at dusk, with dust on her ankles from the winding road, and the fragrance of the vineyards in her clothes. The night is quiet, and the night watch angels fly over In the world, she stepped lightly and ran secretly to the valley. There, her lover was waiting for her. "She would rather be a nun in a monastery. Her heart burns like sandalwood, rising slowly with the wind. Her soul burns like a melting candle, and its flame carries devout followers and lovers. And the beloved ascend to a greater light. "She would rather be an old lady, sitting in the sun, remembering the people with whom she shared her youth." As the night deepened, the soul of Ayler-Mustafa became more and more hidden in the darkness.His soul was like a thick fog.He shouted again: My soul is laden with its ripe fruit, My soul is laden with its fruits. Now, who is coming to enjoy and feast on it? My soul is filled with the scent of clear wine, Now, who comes to get a drink to cool off the desert heat? If only I were a poor tree that neither blossoms nor bears fruit, For abundance suffers more than poverty! The pain of a rich man who cannot find someone to give to is far greater than the sorrow of a seeker who cannot find a donor! Wish I were a dry well, People throw stones into the well; Because it's better than me being a living fountain and people pass by with no one to drink from. This cloth well may be more useful than a living spring that everyone passes by and ignores. Wish I were a trampled reed, It's better than a lyre with silver strings too— Its master, without playing fingers, And the owner's children are all deaf! Seven days and seven nights passed, during which no one came near the garden.Al-Mustafa lived alone with his own memories and pain, for even those who had listened to him with love and patience left him to seek life elsewhere. Only Karima has been here, and her face is silent, as if covered with a veil.She held a cup and plate in her hand, which contained drinks and meat to comfort loneliness and hunger.After she placed these things in front of him, she left. Al-Mustafa came again to be with the poplars in the garden.He sat down and stared at the road.After a while, he seemed to see a cloud of smoke rising from the road, moving towards him.From the smoke emerged the nine disciples, led by Karima. Al-Mustafa stepped forward to meet them on the road.The nine disciples and Karima entered the garden gate, all in good health, as if they had left only an hour ago. They came in and had a frugal meal with him.Karima put the bread and fish on the table, and poured what little wine was left into her glass.As she poured the wine, she begged Al-Mustafa, "Let me go, please, and allow me to go to the city to fetch some more wine to fill your glasses, because the wine here has run out." He looked at her, and a journey and a distant country flashed before his eyes.He said, "No need, this wine is enough for this moment." Everyone ate and drank, very satisfied.After the meal, Al-Mustafa spoke in a sonorous voice, his voice was as deep as the sea, and as full as a tidal wave under the moonlight.He said: "My comrades, my fellow travelers, we must part today. For a long time, we have sailed on difficult seas, we have climbed the steepest mountains, we have fought countless storms. We We've tasted hunger, but we've tasted wedding feasts too. We've been naked, but we've been kings. We've traveled a long way, but now we're parting. You'll go together Your way, but I have to walk my own way alone. "Although sea and wilderness separate us, we will remain companions on the journey to the holy mountain. "However, before we each embark on a grand journey, I would like to give you the harvest and sporadic experience in my heart, and I would like to give you the fruits of my heart. "Start your journey in singing, but let each song be short and concise, because singing can only stay in people's hearts if it dies on your lips early. "Speak a beautiful truth with few words, but never an ugly truth with any ugly words. Tell the maiden whose hair shines in the sun that she is the daughter of the dawn. But if you see a blind man, Never say that he is a member of the night. "To hear the flute-player is like listening to April; but to hear the critic and the fault-finder speak, be as hard-boned, deaf as you are, and let your fancy run free. "My companions, dear ones, in your travels you will meet ones with back feet, so send your wings to them. You will meet ones with horns, the new Give them laurel wreaths. If you meet someone with sharp claws, cover their bellies with petals; When you meet a snake-like tongue, spread honey on their language. "Yes, you're going to meet all these people, and more. You're going to meet g The broken man who sells walking sticks, the blind man who sells mirrors.You will meet a political rich man begging in front of the temple. "Give your dexterity to the broken; give your sight to the blind; and give yourselves to the rich begging; they are the ones who need alms most, and though they were once rich, today only the very It is only the poor hand that reaches out and begs for alms. "My companions! Friends! In the name of the love between us I warn you: Make the innumerable paths that criss-cross each other in the desert! Where the lion walks with the rabbit, and the wolf walks with the sheep. "Remember these words of mine! What I teach you is not to give, but to receive; not to refuse, but to fulfill; not to submit, but to understand with a smile on your lips. "I teach you not silence, but a song without noise. "What I teach you is the big self that embraces all human beings." He got up from the table and walked straight into the garden, under the shadow of the cypresses, when it was getting dusk.They followed not far behind, heavyhearted and silent. Only Karima, after clearing away the leftovers from the table, approached him and said, "Master, please allow me to prepare food for your journey tomorrow." Al-Mustafa looked at her, but with eyes that seemed to be on another world, and said, "My sister! My darling! The food is ready at the beginning of time. Tomorrow's food is as we were yesterday Like today's food, it's all ready. "I go, but if I bring with me an unspoken truth, that truth will seek me again, gather me. Even if the elements of my body are scattered in eternal silence, I will come again Beside you. In this boundless silence, I will speak to you with a voice regenerated from my heart. "What beauty is there in the bog that I have not shown you, that it will again call my name, yes, that of Ayl... Mustafa. I will give you a sign, so you know that I have Go back and speak to you all you need. For God will not allow myself to be hidden in human beings, nor will my own words be buried in the abyss of human hearts. "I will live beyond death and will sing in your ears. Even when the rough sea waves Send me back to the wider sea! I will sit on your decks in an invisible body, I will go to the fields with you in my invisible soul, I shall come to your fireside as an invisible guest, All death can change is the mask that covers our faces, A logger remains a logger, The tiller remains the tiller, He who sings to the wind will also sing to the turning planet. " His disciples were as silent as stone, and their hearts were grieved because he had said "I will go".But none of them reached out to hold him back, nor did anyone follow in his footsteps. Al-Mustafa came out of his mother's garden, his steps were light and soundless, and in a moment he was gone like a leaf in a strong wind.They looked into the distance, as if seeing a ray of dim white light ascending into the infinity. The nine disciples all chose their way and left, only the woman of Karima stood alone in the fading twilight.She watched how light and twilight merged into one.She comforted her loneliness and loneliness with the words of El Mustafa: "I have gone, but if what I bring with me is an unspoken truth, then this truth will seek and gather me again. I will come back to you again." dusk. He has reached the valley.The steps took him into the clouds.He stands among the rocks and green pines and cypresses, hidden from all things.He opened his mouth and said: "O cloud, my sister! You are the white breath, Not yet bound by form. I return to you, this white silent breath, It is a word that has not yet been spoken. "O cloud, my winged sister! We are together now, We will be together until the day of rebirth, At dawn you will be dewdrops in the garden, And I am a baby in a woman's arms, At that time, we will recall our past together. "O cloud, my sister! I have returned, a heart that listens to the voice of the heart, like your heart; A throbbing aimless desire, like yours; A mind not yet gathered, like your mind. "O Cloud, my sister! Firstborn of my mother! My hands still hold the seed you told me to sow, My lips are still sealed with the song you want me to sing, I did not bring you back fruit nor echo of song, For my hands are blind and my lips are closed. "O cloud, my sister! I love the world, and the world loves me, For all my smiles are on her lips, and all her tears are in my eyes. But there remained a silent gulf between me and her. She doesn't want to cross it, and neither can I. O cloud, my sister!My immortal cloud sisters! I sang old songs to children, They had listened with wonder. But tomorrow they may forget the song, I don't know where the wind will take this song, Although this old song is not mine alone, it has entered my heart, It also stayed on my lips for a moment. "O cloud, my sister! Though all this is gone, my heart is still at peace. It is enough for me to sing songs for those who have been born, Even though the song does not belong to me, what it sings is the desire in my heart. "O Cloud! My sister! My sister of Cloud! I have reunited with you. I am no longer a self, the walls have fallen, the chains have been broken, and I have flown to you as Cloud! We shall be together Swim in the sea until the day of resurrection comes, when the end of the morning sends you as dew on the garden and me as a baby in the arms of a woman."