Even though orientalists developed an early and deep fascination for the so-called ‘Whirling Dervishes’ and for the figure and teachings of Balkhi (also known as Rumi, the Roman), the founder and master of this order of dervishes (the Mevlevis), they were unusually slow to bring the works of the Master – the key works of Mevlevi spirituality – into European languages. Portions, samples and selections were translated, but the task of translating entire works, and in particular the voluminous and rambling Mathnawi (Rhyming Couplets) of Rumi, was delayed until well into the Twentieth Century.
Even then, it was not done especially well. It was not until Nicholson’s eight volume edition of the Couplets was published between 1925 and 1940 that there was a passably decent rendering of this masterwork of Soofism from the original Persian into the English language.
NICHOLSON
Listen to the reed how it tells a tale, complaining of separations—
Saying, “Ever since I was parted from the reed-bed,
All the same, Nicholson’s version has its deficiencies; it is scholarly and faithful to the Persian but it often misses the tenor, the flavor, the perfume, of the original. This is not a question of scholarship, but of essence - the spirit, not the letter. In this regard, the works of the Roman are notoriously elusive and difficult to capture. Translations, as such, are typically dry and bloodless and the nearer they are to the Persian the more this is so: often, paraphrases, or “renderings” – loose “translations” - are nearer to the intention and feeling of Rumi’s words. Mevlevi spirituality has a distinct tone, an inner quality that evades lexical exactitude; it is moe a music than a collection of words.
The difficulty of translating Rumi is apparent from the very first few lines of the Mathnawi. There are now dozens of versions of these lines in English but anyone who is acquainted with the true qualities of the Mevlevi path – the spirit rather than the letter - will know how inadequate they are. The problem is precisely that of describing the quality of a piece of music – in this case the music of the reed flute or ney. This breathed instrument, used in Mevlevi ritual, has a beautiful, haunting, mournful quality, and this is exactly the tone of the spirit that moves in Mevlevi spiritual life. But how can it be captured in the far less musical and more prosaic sounds of modern English? The keynote of Mevlevi spirituality is homesickness, the yearning of the soul that is, as St. Paul put it, in the world but not of the world. It is on this note that the Mathnawi begins.
Below are numerous renderings and translations of the first four lines of Rumi’s masterpiece. Some are manifestly horrible. Some have as much grace as entries in a telephone directory. Others might be described as valiant attempts even when they fall well short of anything we might reasonably call poetry. It is only four lines of a work of over 50,000 lines, and yet, as readers will see, no one does it especially well. Again, this is not a question of staying close to the original Persian; it is a question of setting the right tone, hearing the right music, from the outset. To judge this readers should avail themselves of some recordings of the ney flute. The first section of the Mathnawi is the ‘Song of the Reed’ and it speaks of the spirit, the Divine Breath, that animates the ney. Do any of these versions come near to the subtle qualities of the music of the ney?
The argument or the meaning of the four lines can be summarized as follows. Readers will see that many translators and renderers are not even successful in conveying this much:
1. The reader (or listener) is urged to listen to the reed and to hear its complaint or lament.
2. The reed speaks. It explains that its music has moved men and women to a deep sadness because it, the reed, has been torn from the reed bed and is homesick.
3. The reed says that it wants or needs listeners whose hearts are similarly torn by separation and homesickness. They will understand its song.
4. The reed makes the general statement that everyone who is exiled from their home longs to return.
The difficulty of translating Rumi is apparent from the very first few lines of the Mathnawi. There are now dozens of versions of these lines in English but anyone who is acquainted with the true qualities of the Mevlevi path – the spirit rather than the letter - will know how inadequate they are. The problem is precisely that of describing the quality of a piece of music – in this case the music of the reed flute or ney. This breathed instrument, used in Mevlevi ritual, has a beautiful, haunting, mournful quality, and this is exactly the tone of the spirit that moves in Mevlevi spiritual life. But how can it be captured in the far less musical and more prosaic sounds of modern English? The keynote of Mevlevi spirituality is homesickness, the yearning of the soul that is, as St. Paul put it, in the world but not of the world. It is on this note that the Mathnawi begins.
Below are numerous renderings and translations of the first four lines of Rumi’s masterpiece. Some are manifestly horrible. Some have as much grace as entries in a telephone directory. Others might be described as valiant attempts even when they fall well short of anything we might reasonably call poetry. It is only four lines of a work of over 50,000 lines, and yet, as readers will see, no one does it especially well. Again, this is not a question of staying close to the original Persian; it is a question of setting the right tone, hearing the right music, from the outset. To judge this readers should avail themselves of some recordings of the ney flute. The first section of the Mathnawi is the ‘Song of the Reed’ and it speaks of the spirit, the Divine Breath, that animates the ney. Do any of these versions come near to the subtle qualities of the music of the ney?
The argument or the meaning of the four lines can be summarized as follows. Readers will see that many translators and renderers are not even successful in conveying this much:
1. The reader (or listener) is urged to listen to the reed and to hear its complaint or lament.
2. The reed speaks. It explains that its music has moved men and women to a deep sadness because it, the reed, has been torn from the reed bed and is homesick.
3. The reed says that it wants or needs listeners whose hearts are similarly torn by separation and homesickness. They will understand its song.
4. The reed makes the general statement that everyone who is exiled from their home longs to return.
* * *
NICHOLSON
Listen to the reed how it tells a tale, complaining of separations—
Saying, “Ever since I was parted from the reed-bed,
my lament, has caused man and woman to moan.
I want a bosom torn by severance,
that I may unfold the pain of love-desire.
Every one who is left far from his source
wishes back the time when he was united with it.
JONES 1772
Hear, how yon reed in sadly pleasing tales
Departed bliss and present woe bewails!
'With me, from native banks untimely torn,
Love-warbling youths and soft-ey'd virgins mourn.
O! Let the heart, by fatal absence rent,
Feel what I sing, and bleed when I lament.
Who roams in exile from his parent bow'r,
Pants to return, and chides each ling'ring hour.
REDHOUSE 1881
From reed-flute hear what tale it tells;
What plaint it makes of absence' ills.
"From jungle-bed since me they tore,
Men's, women's, eyes have wept right sore.
My breast I tear and rend in twain,
To give, through sighs, vent to all my pain.
Who's from his home snatched far away,
Longs to return some future day.
WHINFIELD 1887
Hearken to the reed-flute, how it complains,
Lamenting its banishment from its home:--
"Ever since they tore me from my osier bed,
My plaintive notes have moved men and women to tears.
I burst my breast, striving to give vent to sighs,
And to express the pangs of my yearnings for my home.
He who abides far away from his home
Is ever longing for the day he shall return.
ARBERRY 1961
I want a bosom torn by severance,
that I may unfold the pain of love-desire.
Every one who is left far from his source
wishes back the time when he was united with it.
JONES 1772
Hear, how yon reed in sadly pleasing tales
Departed bliss and present woe bewails!
'With me, from native banks untimely torn,
Love-warbling youths and soft-ey'd virgins mourn.
O! Let the heart, by fatal absence rent,
Feel what I sing, and bleed when I lament.
Who roams in exile from his parent bow'r,
Pants to return, and chides each ling'ring hour.
REDHOUSE 1881
From reed-flute hear what tale it tells;
What plaint it makes of absence' ills.
"From jungle-bed since me they tore,
Men's, women's, eyes have wept right sore.
My breast I tear and rend in twain,
To give, through sighs, vent to all my pain.
Who's from his home snatched far away,
Longs to return some future day.
WHINFIELD 1887
Hearken to the reed-flute, how it complains,
Lamenting its banishment from its home:--
"Ever since they tore me from my osier bed,
My plaintive notes have moved men and women to tears.
I burst my breast, striving to give vent to sighs,
And to express the pangs of my yearnings for my home.
He who abides far away from his home
Is ever longing for the day he shall return.
ARBERRY 1961
Listen to this reed, how it makes complaint,
telling a tale of separation:
"Ever since I was cut off from my reed-bed,
men and women all have lamented my bewailing.
I want a breast torn asunder by severance,
so that I may fully declare the agony of yearning.
Every one who is sundered far from his origin
longs to recapture the time when he was united with it.
TURKMAN 1992
Listen to this Ney (the reed-flute) that is complaining
and narrating the story of separation.
Ever since they (the people) have plucked me from the reedland,
my laments have driven men and women to deep sorrow.
I want someone with a chest (heart) pierced by abandonment so that I may tell him about the pain of my longing.
He who falls aloof from his origin
seeks an opportunity to find it again.
GUPTA 1997
O man! Hear the flute (an instrument made out of reeds)
which in wistful tone complains of being separated from its native
place, the reed-bed.
"From the moment they cut me off from my source,
I have been wailing, which has moved everyone, man or woman, who heard me, to tears.
"I wish my heart to be torn into pieces so that they could tell the tale of pangs of my separation and of my
longing for going back from where I came.
"Anyone who is thus removed from his spring,
waits every moment for an opportunity of returning to it.
HELMINSKI
Listen to the reed and the tale it tells,
how it sings of separation:
Ever since they cut me from the reed bed,
my wail has caused men and women to weep.
I want a heart that is torn open with longing
so that I might share the pain of this love.
Whoever has been parted from his source
longs to return to that state of union.
SHAHRIARI 1998
Pay heed to the grievances of the reed
Of what divisive separations breed
From the reedbed cut away just like a weed
My music people curse, warn and heed
Sliced to pieces my bosom and heart bleed
While I tell this tale of desire and need.
Whoever who fell away from the source
Will seek and toil until returned to course.
NASR 2000
Listen to the reed how it narrates a tale,
A tale of all the separations of which it complains.
Ever since they cut me from the reed-bed,
Men and women bemoaned my lament.
How I wish in separation, a bosom shred and shred,
So as to utter the description of the pain of longing.
Whoever becomes distanced from his roots,
Seeks to return to the days of his union.
GAMARD 2000
Listen to the reed (flute), how it is complaining!
It is telling about separations,
(Saying), "Ever since I was severed from the reed field,
men and women have lamented in (the presence of) my shrill cries.
"(But) I want a heart (which is) torn, torn from separation,
so that I may explain the pain of yearning."
"Anyone one who has remained far from his roots,
seeks a return (to the) time of his union.
LEWIS 2000
Listen as this reed pipes its plaint
unfolds its tale of separations:
Cut from my reedy bed my crying
ever since makes men and women weep
I like to keep my breast
carved with loss to convey the pain of longing.
telling a tale of separation:
"Ever since I was cut off from my reed-bed,
men and women all have lamented my bewailing.
I want a breast torn asunder by severance,
so that I may fully declare the agony of yearning.
Every one who is sundered far from his origin
longs to recapture the time when he was united with it.
TURKMAN 1992
Listen to this Ney (the reed-flute) that is complaining
and narrating the story of separation.
Ever since they (the people) have plucked me from the reedland,
my laments have driven men and women to deep sorrow.
I want someone with a chest (heart) pierced by abandonment so that I may tell him about the pain of my longing.
He who falls aloof from his origin
seeks an opportunity to find it again.
GUPTA 1997
O man! Hear the flute (an instrument made out of reeds)
which in wistful tone complains of being separated from its native
place, the reed-bed.
"From the moment they cut me off from my source,
I have been wailing, which has moved everyone, man or woman, who heard me, to tears.
"I wish my heart to be torn into pieces so that they could tell the tale of pangs of my separation and of my
longing for going back from where I came.
"Anyone who is thus removed from his spring,
waits every moment for an opportunity of returning to it.
HELMINSKI
Listen to the reed and the tale it tells,
how it sings of separation:
Ever since they cut me from the reed bed,
my wail has caused men and women to weep.
I want a heart that is torn open with longing
so that I might share the pain of this love.
Whoever has been parted from his source
longs to return to that state of union.
SHAHRIARI 1998
Pay heed to the grievances of the reed
Of what divisive separations breed
From the reedbed cut away just like a weed
My music people curse, warn and heed
Sliced to pieces my bosom and heart bleed
While I tell this tale of desire and need.
Whoever who fell away from the source
Will seek and toil until returned to course.
NASR 2000
Listen to the reed how it narrates a tale,
A tale of all the separations of which it complains.
Ever since they cut me from the reed-bed,
Men and women bemoaned my lament.
How I wish in separation, a bosom shred and shred,
So as to utter the description of the pain of longing.
Whoever becomes distanced from his roots,
Seeks to return to the days of his union.
GAMARD 2000
Listen to the reed (flute), how it is complaining!
It is telling about separations,
(Saying), "Ever since I was severed from the reed field,
men and women have lamented in (the presence of) my shrill cries.
"(But) I want a heart (which is) torn, torn from separation,
so that I may explain the pain of yearning."
"Anyone one who has remained far from his roots,
seeks a return (to the) time of his union.
LEWIS 2000
Listen as this reed pipes its plaint
unfolds its tale of separations:
Cut from my reedy bed my crying
ever since makes men and women weep
I like to keep my breast
carved with loss to convey the pain of longing.
Once severed from the root,
thirst for union with the source endures
LEGENHAUSEN
Listen to this reed as it complains,
As it tells of separations in its strains:
Ever since I was torn from the land in which I grew
Men have been weeping to my piping, men and women, too.
I want a breast torn apart by parting
So I can tell it of the pain that accompanies my longing.
Whoever stays too long away from his own country
Searches for reunion, and his search is made daily.
TAMDGIDI 2003
Listen to how this reed is wailing;
About separations it's complaining:
"From reedbed since parted was I,
Men, women, have cried from my cry.
"Only a heart, torn-torn, longing
Can hear my tales of belonging.
"Whosoever lost her/his essence,
For reuniting seeks lessons.
TILLINGHAST AND SHAFAK
Listen, how this flute complains; how it tells of estrangement.
It says: Ever since they cut me from my reedy bed,
thirst for union with the source endures
LEGENHAUSEN
Listen to this reed as it complains,
As it tells of separations in its strains:
Ever since I was torn from the land in which I grew
Men have been weeping to my piping, men and women, too.
I want a breast torn apart by parting
So I can tell it of the pain that accompanies my longing.
Whoever stays too long away from his own country
Searches for reunion, and his search is made daily.
TAMDGIDI 2003
Listen to how this reed is wailing;
About separations it's complaining:
"From reedbed since parted was I,
Men, women, have cried from my cry.
"Only a heart, torn-torn, longing
Can hear my tales of belonging.
"Whosoever lost her/his essence,
For reuniting seeks lessons.
TILLINGHAST AND SHAFAK
Listen, how this flute complains; how it tells of estrangement.
It says: Ever since they cut me from my reedy bed,
men have cried and wailed when I cried - and women too.
I want a heart wounded by separation, so I can tell the pain of
longing.
He who is cut off from his essence looks for the time of reunion.
MOJADDEDI 2004
Now listen to this reed-flute's deep lament
About the heartache being apart has meant:
'Since from the reed-bed they uprooted me
My song's expressed each human's agony,
A breast which separation's split in two
Is what I seek, to share this pain with you:
When kept from their true origin, all yearn
For union on the day they can return.
WILLIAMS 2006
Listen to this reed as it is grieving;
it tells the story of our separations.
'Since I was severed from the bed of reeds,
in my cry men and women have lamented.
I need the breast that's torn to shreds by parting
to give expression to the pain of heartache.
Whoever finds himself left far from home
looks forward to the day of his reunion.
HOLBROOK 2010
Listen to this reed flute as it tells its tales
Complaining of separations as it wails:
"Since they cut my stalk away from the reed bed
My outcry has made men and women lament
I seek a breast that is torn to shreds by loss
So that I may explicate the pain of want
Everyone who's far from his own origin
Seeks to be united with it once again
SADRI 2015
Listen to the reed-flute as it complains,
The tale of separations it explains.
"Ever since they tore me off the reed bed's bowels,
My wailing has moved man and woman to howls.
I want a bosom, by separation's agony torn, torn,
So I may speak of the yearnings' pain I have borne.
He who is separated from his quintessence,
Will seek the times of his re-acquaintance.
Yours,
I want a heart wounded by separation, so I can tell the pain of
longing.
He who is cut off from his essence looks for the time of reunion.
MOJADDEDI 2004
Now listen to this reed-flute's deep lament
About the heartache being apart has meant:
'Since from the reed-bed they uprooted me
My song's expressed each human's agony,
A breast which separation's split in two
Is what I seek, to share this pain with you:
When kept from their true origin, all yearn
For union on the day they can return.
WILLIAMS 2006
Listen to this reed as it is grieving;
it tells the story of our separations.
'Since I was severed from the bed of reeds,
in my cry men and women have lamented.
I need the breast that's torn to shreds by parting
to give expression to the pain of heartache.
Whoever finds himself left far from home
looks forward to the day of his reunion.
HOLBROOK 2010
Listen to this reed flute as it tells its tales
Complaining of separations as it wails:
"Since they cut my stalk away from the reed bed
My outcry has made men and women lament
I seek a breast that is torn to shreds by loss
So that I may explicate the pain of want
Everyone who's far from his own origin
Seeks to be united with it once again
SADRI 2015
Listen to the reed-flute as it complains,
The tale of separations it explains.
"Ever since they tore me off the reed bed's bowels,
My wailing has moved man and woman to howls.
I want a bosom, by separation's agony torn, torn,
So I may speak of the yearnings' pain I have borne.
He who is separated from his quintessence,
Will seek the times of his re-acquaintance.
Yours,
Harper McAlpine Black
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