Not Chess - for Fools (not Chess in Schools)

[John McKenna]

Thought I saw a yellow card... and it had my name on it.

My last offence - a throw away but not irreverent quote - was due to zeitnot.

To try to make amends I will end my contra-tribulations in another (locked) topic with a peace offering.

Perhaps Soheil will educate or humour me by identifying, annotating (or reverse translating) what follows?

(I hope Michael F finds it edifying.)

A Translation:

by Suman Kashyap –

At this one point, all talk ends.
Hold tight to this point, forget your calculations,
Leave the miserable state of unbelief
Do not torment yourself with the fear of death and hell,
For these are imaginary fears.
Only into such a house will the truth enter.
At this one point, all talk ends.

For no reason you abrade your forehead on the ground,
You display reverence at the mehraab,
You recite the Kalma to entertain a listener.
But knowledge does not enter your heart.
Can the truth ever remain hidden?
At this one point, all talk ends.

Many return from Mecca as hajjis,
Blue shawls across their shoulders.
They profit from the merit earned by haj.
Who can admire such behavior?
Can the truth ever remain hidden?
At this one point, all talk ends.

Some withdraw to the forest,
Eat a single grain a day.
Bereft of understanding, they exhaust the body,
And return home in bad shape,
Their life sucked dry with useless fasting and prayer.
At this one point, all talk ends

Hold fast to your murshid
Become a devotee of all creation,
Intoxicated, carefree,
Without desire, indifferent to the world.
Let your heart be fully clean.
Bulla asks, can the truth then be stopped?
At this one point, all talk ends.

[Michael Farthing]

Indeed John that is a fine piece. I had wondered about giving some abstruse Farsi poem (rather than Punjabi) as a sort of tit-for-tat irritant to you. Good job I didn't - it wouldn't have worked.

I do not bear grudges long. (well, sometimes I do)
I do not think Soheil bears grudges at all - that is his strength.
He tends not to say 'thank you'. That is a weakness.

[John McKenna]

Michael, sometimes you step in where fools dread.

I've found a Persian poem that Soheil may prefer to the Urdu Bulleh Shah one above.

It's by Rumi (1207-73), perhaps he knows it?

(Can anyone suggest what the missing final word is?)

This contest heed, of Chinaman's and Roman's art.

The Chinese urged they had the greater painters' skill;

The Romans pleaded they of art the throne did fill.

The sovereign heard them both: decreed a contest fair;

Results the palm should give the worthiest of the pair.

The parties twain a wordy war waged in debate:

The Romans' show of science did predominate.

The Chinamen then asked to have a house assigned

For their especial use; and one for Rome designed.

Th' allotted houses stood on either side one street;

In one the Chinese, one the Roman artists meet.

The Chinese asked a hundred paints for their art's use:

The sovereign his resources would not them refuse.

Each morning from the treasury, rich colors store

Was served out to the Chinese till they asked no more.

The Romans argued "Color or design is vain:

We simply have to banish soil and filth amain."

They closed their gate. To burnish then they set themselves;

Vast difference there is 'twixt colors and not one.

The colors are as clouds; simplicity's the moon.

Whatever tinge you see embellishing the clouds.

You know comes from the sun, the moon, or stars in crowds.

At length the Chinamen their task had quite fulfilled;

With joy intense their hearts did beat, their bosoms thrilled.

The sovereign came, inspected all their rich designs,

And lost his heart with wonder at their talents' signs.

He then passed to the Romans, that his eyes might see;

The curtains were withdrawn to show whate'er might be.

The Chinese paintings all, their whole designs in full,

Reflected truly were on that high-burnished wall.

Whatever was depicted by the Chinese art

Was reproduced by mirrors, perfect every part.

Those Romans are our mystics, know, my worthy friend;

No art, no learning; study, none: but gain their end.

They polish well their bosoms, burnish bright their hearts,

Remove all stain of lust, of self, pride, hate's deep smarts.

That mirror's purity prefigures their hearts' trust;

With endless images reflections it... ???????

[John McKenna]

I have it on good authority that Soheil Hooshdaran is genuine.
Take care because, whether he's here by accident or design, he has influential supporters.

I sought a soul in the sea
And found a coral there;
Beneath the foam for me
An ocean was all laid bare.
(Rumi)