Feb 07 2025
Attar – About True Seekers
About True Seekers
by Farid ud-Din Attar
English version by Sholeh Wolpé
Wayfarer, know that in the battlefield of pain,
love may come with annihilation.
You whose existence is mingled
with nonexistence,
you whose joys are mingled with grief,
if you don’t experience some ups and downs,
how will you ever know relief?
You bravely strike like lightning,
then cover yourself with rubbish
to protect against the shock.
What are you doing?
Rise up like a true seeker.
Set fire to reason
and flare into a mad lover.
If you hesitate over this alchemy,
at least come and take a quick look.
How long will you stay in your head?
Become like me, leave your self.
For once, show foresight
so that in the end you too can become
a dervish and joyfully arrive
at annihilation of the self.
I who am neither myself nor other than myself
have traveled beyond reason, good and evil thoughts.
I’ve lost my self within myself.
The only cure is the incurable.
When the sun of poverty landed on me,
both worlds twirled together into a single shaft of light.
And when I saw that column of light
I passed on into no self; became
a drop of water and joined the stream.
All that I had won and lost,
I threw away into black waters.
I disappeared, became lost, void.
I became a shadow without a single atom,
a drop of water that had joined the ocean.
Good luck finding that droplet.
Such loss of self is not for all,
but I joined the eternal union
and there are many like me.
Who in the world, from a dust mote to the moon,
wouldn’t want to be lost this way?
— from The Conferences of the Birds, by Attar / Translated by Sholeh Wolpé
/ Image by Fernando Rodrigues /
I have been thinking this morning of the meandering road that has been the Poetry Chaikhana. I first set up the Poetry Chaikhana website in 2004. That’s twenty years! During those twenty years I have expanded the library of online poetry to include several hundred poets from around the world and throughout history. In the early days I often sent out five or six poem emails a week! That’s when the “daily poem” was truly a daily poem. I eventually shifted to three a week and finally settled into the current rhythm of one poem email (almost) every week. (I still catch myself wanting to refer to it as the “daily poem” and have to pivot to “poem email.”)
But it’s just hitting me today: Twenty years! There are young adults today who were not even born when I started the Poetry Chaikhana online. On the Internet, anything older than five years seems lost in the mists of prehistory. There are two possible explanation for the Poetry Chaikhana’s survival over these twenty years… One is, obviously, ancient aliens. The other explanation is you, the Poetry Chaikhana community. Your steady support and comments and, yes, even prayers year after year, through my own personal ups and downs, through the evolving online landscape, your purchase of books, your donations, your poetry suggestions, the stories you’ve shared of your own personal journeys — all of that together is why the Poetry Chaikhana is still here today.
At this moment I am feeling immense gratitude for you all. This is my opportunity to say thank you to all of you!
It is poems like this that still make me say, Wow! I have to share this with all the mad lovers out there!
What are you doing?
Rise up like a true seeker.
Set fire to reason
and flare into a mad lover.
Even the poems that are dark and challenging, especially them. The ones I have to gird up to read, where it takes all my courage just to take a quick honest look–
If you hesitate over this alchemy,
at least come and take a quick look.I disappeared, became lost, void.
I became a shadow without a single atom,
a drop of water that had joined the ocean.
Good luck finding that droplet.
Such loss of self is not for all,
but I joined the eternal union
and there are many like me.
— in order to arrive precisely at the Self of selves.
Who in the world, from a dust mote to the moon,
wouldn’t want to be lost this way?
Have a beautiful day!
Recommended Books: Farid ud-Din Attar
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Farid ud-Din Attar
Iran/Persia (1120? – 1220?) Timeline |
Farid ud-Din Attar was born in Nishapur, in what is today north-east Iran. There is disagreement over the exact dates of his birth and death but several sources confirm that he lived about 100 years. He is traditionally said to have been killed by Mongol invaders. His tomb can be seen today in Nishapur.
As a younger man, Attar went on pilgrimage to Mecca and traveled extensively, seeking wisdom in Egypt, Damascus, India, and other areas, before finally returning to his home city of Nishapur.
The name Attar means herbalist or healer, which was his profession. (The profession can also carry implications of alchemy.) It is said that he saw as many as 500 patients a day in his shop, prescribing herbal remedies which he prepared himself, and he wrote his poetry while attending to his patients.
About thirty works by Attar survive, but his masterpiece is the Mantic at-Tayr (The Conference of the Birds). In this collection, he describes a group of birds (individual human souls) under the leadership of a hoopoe (spiritual master) who determine to search for their king, the legendary Simurgh bird (God). The birds must confront their own individual limitations and fears while journeying through seven valleys before they ultimately find the Simurgh and complete their quest. The 30 birds who ultimately complete the quest discover that they themselves are already one with the Simurgh they sought, playing on a pun in Persian (si and murgh can translate as 30 birds) while giving us an esoteric teaching on the presence of the Divine within us collectively.
Attar’s poetry inspired Rumi and many other Sufi poets. It is said that Rumi actually met Attar when Attar was an old man and Rumi was a boy, though some scholars dispute this possibility.
Farid ud-Din Attar was apparently tried at one point for heresy and exiled from Nishapur, but he eventually returned to his home city and that is where he died.
A traditional story is told about Attar’s death. He was taken prisoner by a Mongol during the invasion of Nishapur. Someone soon came and tried to ransom Attar with a thousand pieces of silver. Attar advised the Mongol not to sell him for that price. The Mongol, thinking to gain an even greater sum of money, refused the silver. Later, another person came, this time offering only a sack of straw to free Attar. Attar then told the Mongol to sell him for that was all he was worth. Outraged at being made to look like a fool, the Mongol cut off Attar’s head.
Whether or not this is literally true isn’t the point. This story is used to teach the mystical insight that the personal self isn’t of much real worth. What is valuable is the Beloved’s presence within us — and that presence isn’t threatened by the death of the body.