{"id":8131,"date":"2022-09-16T08:46:10","date_gmt":"2022-09-16T15:46:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/?p=8131"},"modified":"2022-09-16T08:49:06","modified_gmt":"2022-09-16T15:49:06","slug":"shabistari-the-tavern-haunters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/2022\/09\/16\/shabistari-the-tavern-haunters\/","title":{"rendered":"Shabistari – The Tavern Haunters"},"content":{"rendered":"

The Tavern Haunters
\nby Mahmud Shabistari<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

English version by Andrew Harvey<\/font><\/p>\n

Being a tavern haunter means
\nBeing sprung free of yourself.<\/p>\n

The tavern is where lovers tryst,
\nWhere the bird of the soul comes to rest
\nIn a sanctuary beyond space and time.
\nThe tavern haunter wanders lonely in a desert
\nAnd sees the whole world as a mirage.
\nThe desert is limitless and endless \u2014
\nNo one has seen its beginning or its end,
\nAnd even if you wandered in it a hundred years
\nYou would not find yourself, or anyone else.
\nThose who live there have no feet or heads,
\nAre neither \u201cbelievers\u201d nor \u201cunbelievers.\u201d
\nDrunk on the wine of selflessness,
\nThey have given up good and evil alike.
\nDrunk, without lips or mouth, on Truth
\nThey have thrown away all thoughts of name and fame,
\nAll talk of wonders, visions, spiritual states,
\nDreams, secret rooms, lights, miracles.<\/p>\n

The aroma of the Divine Wine
\nHas made them abandon everything;
\nThe taste for Annihilation
\nHas sent them all sprawling like drunkards.
\nFor one sip of the wine of ecstasy,
\nThey have thrown away pilgrim staff, water jar, and rosary.
\nThey fall, and then they rise again,
\nSometimes bright in union,
\nSometimes lost in the pain of separation;
\nNow pouring tears of blood,
\nNow raised to a world of bliss,
\nStretching out their necks like racers;
\nNow, with blackened faces, staring at a wall,
\nOr faces reddened with Unity, chained to a gibbet;
\nNow whirling in mystic dance,
\nLost in the arms of the Beloved,
\nLosing head and foot like the revolving heavens.
\nEvery passage that the Singer sings them
\nTransmits the rapture of the invisible world,
\nFor mystic singing is not only words and sounds;
\nEach note unveils a priceless mystery.<\/p>\n

They have thrown away their senses
\nAnd run from all color and perfume,
\nAnd washed in purified wine
\nAll the different dyes: black, green, or blue.
\nTo them, devotion and piety are only hypocrisy;
\nThey are weary of being either masters or disciples;
\nThey have swept the dust of dunghills from their souls,
\nWithout telling even a tiny part of what they see,
\nAnd grasped in bliss at the swirling robes of drunkards.
\nThey have drunk one cup of the pure wine
\nAnd have become \u2014 at last, at long last \u2014 real Sufis.<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/a> \u2014 from Perfume of the Desert: Inspirations from Sufi Wisdom<\/a>, by Andrew Harvey \/ Eryk Hanut<\/font><\/p>\n


\/ Image by Batmunkh Ch<\/a> \/<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

The aroma of the Divine Wine
\nHas made them abandon everything;
\nThe taste for Annihilation
\nHas sent them all sprawling like drunkards.
\nFor one sip of the wine of ecstasy,<\/i><\/p>\n

Wine\u2026 Why do so many mystics from all traditions talk of wine and drunkenness and taverns when speaking of ecstatic states of enlightenment? How do I, as a person who does not drink alcohol, understand this sacred wine fixation? Is it just a universally agreed upon metaphor to shock the orthodox? Well, yes, but it is more than that. The mystic\u2019s wine is not wine, yet it is also more than a game of words. This wine is subtle but very real. It can be experienced in a profound, even physical manner.<\/p>\n

In certain states, a flowing substance is felt upon the palette, with a taste of ethereal sweetness that can be compared with wine or honey. This is the amrita of yogis, the ambrosia of the Greeks, the prophetic mead of the Norse shamans, the awen oil of the druids. There is a sensation of drinking a subtle liquid, accompanied by a warming and expanding of the heart. The attention blissfully turns inward, the eyelids grow pleasantly heavy and the gaze may become unfocused. A giddy smile naturally spreads across the face for no apparent reason. When the ecstasy comes on strongly, the body can tremble, sometimes the consciousness even leaves the body.<\/p>\n

With these experiences, it not only makes sense for mystics to use the language of wine. Observers sometimes mistake this state for actual drunkenness.<\/p>\n

Being a tavern haunter means
\nBeing sprung free of yourself.<\/i><\/p>\n

To someone who has been overcome by this sacred drunkenness, filled with its bliss, all encompassing love, and the vision of universal oneness, religion\u2019s petty formalism seems worse than absurd, it is an offense.<\/p>\n

To them, devotion and piety are only hypocrisy<\/i><\/p>\n

Drinking deep from the tavern\u2019s draught teaches us what religion is really about, and it is not about joining the right group or following the rules exactly so. The mystic\u2019s wine is the proper measure of piety, the mark of initiation, not the number of days spent in church or mosque or synagogue.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m not an advocate of heavy drinking, but if you can find that special vintage, drink deep.<\/p>\n

They have drunk one cup of the pure wine
\nAnd have become \u2014 at last, at long last \u2014 real Sufis.<\/i><\/p>\n


\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/a>Recommended Books: Mahmud Shabistari<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n\n

<\/p>\n

\n\n\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/center>
\n<\/p>\n

<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology)<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nPerfume of the Desert: Inspirations from Sufi Wisdom<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nThe Secret Rose Garden: Mahmud Shabistari<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nBeyond Faith and Infidelity: The Sufi Poetry and Teachings of Mahmud Shabistari<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
\n\n
\n\"Mahmud<\/a>\n<\/td>\n\nMahmud Shabistari<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

Iran\/Persia (1250? \u2013 1340) Timeline<\/a>
\nMuslim \/ Sufi<\/a><\/a>
\n<\/a><\/a><\/em>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/p>\n

Mahmud Shabistari lived in Persia (Iran) during the time of the Mongol invasions of the region. It was a terrible time of massacres by the invading armies, exacerbating internal strife and religious sectarianism. Yet it is also during this time that the Golden Age of Persian Sufism emerged.<\/p>\n

Shabistari\u2019s Secret Rose Garden (the Gulistan-i Raz<\/i>, which can also be translated as The Rose Garden of Mystery) is considered to be one of the greatest works of Persian Sufism.<\/p>\n

In the Secret Rose Garden, Shabistari expresses a viewpoint of Sufi realization similar to the perspective of the great Sufi philosopher Ibn Arabi, but expressed through elegant Persian poetic language.<\/p>\n

The value of Shabistari\u2019s work was recognized almost immediately. Many commentaries on the work by other Sufi mystics soon began to appear. The Secret Rose Garden quickly was regarded as one of the central works of Sufism.<\/p>\n

More poetry by Mahmud Shabistari<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Tavern Haunters by Mahmud Shabistari English version by Andrew Harvey Being a tavern haunter means Being sprung free of yourself. The tavern is where lovers tryst, Where the bird of the soul comes to rest In a sanctuary beyond space and time. The tavern haunter wanders lonely in a desert And sees the whole […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[847,2492,2491,2493,57,193,1509,19,2490,845],"class_list":["post-8131","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-amrita","tag-awen","tag-drunkenness","tag-ecstasy","tag-mahmud-shabistari","tag-muslim-poetry","tag-religion","tag-sufi-poetry","tag-tavern","tag-wine"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8131","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8131"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8131\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8133,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8131\/revisions\/8133"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8131"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8131"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8131"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}