Добрый день!
Мне в руки попала прекрасная книга: "Дорога превращений".
И заинтересовала одна вещь, могли бы вы указать источник стиха: "Я, словно сокол, в этот мир с руки Царя слетел".
Вообще мне нужен английский вариант текста, нашел вот что:
I came again like a new Bairam.[147]
I came to break the door of the dungeon
And the teeth of fate,
Which are abusing and exploiting humans.
I came to put fire on the waters
Of the seven dry stars,
Which suck the blood of the people on earth.
I came to calm and extinguish their wind.
I flew like a falcon from the palace of the Sultan
Who has no beginning of the beginning.
I came to tear to pieces
The great eagle owl
Who eats the parrot in its ruined place.
I promised to give my Soul to the Sultan
Right at the beginning.
If I change my promise,
The back of Soul will be broken.
Today I am like Asaf.[148]
The sword of order is in my hand.
I will cut the head of the rebels
In front of the Sultan.
If you see green for a few days
At the garden and field of those rebels,
Don't worry.
I will pull those plants up from their roots.
I won't harm anyone
Except the unjust, cruel tyrant.
I would be an unbeliever
If I touched the good Ones.
Wherever there is a ball,
The club of union rolls it.
With that club, I will break the ball
Which doesn't come to the field by the club.
I sat at His assembly.
I saw His favor, how He grabs His work.
I became His paid servant
In order to break the legs of the devil.
I was a small particle and became a mine
In the hand of the Sultan.
Make this very clear:
I got so heavy
That if, you had put me on a scale,
The scale would have been broken.
How can you take home
Someone who is so drunk
That he falls on the ground as I do?
Don't you know
That I will break this, tear that?
If the watchman asks what I'm doing,
I pour the wine glass over his head.
If the doorkeeper tries to pull my hand, I break his.
I will stop and pull the sky out by the roots
If it doesn't turn around Heart.
I'll break the neck of fate
If it becomes despicable.
You set the table of kindness
And invite me as Your guest;
So when I break a piece of bread,
Why do You pull my ear?
No, no, I am at Your table.
I am Your honored guest.
I will serve a glass or two of wine
To the guest so that he will overcome his shyness.
O the One who makes me say poems,
I'm afraid I will be rebelling against Your orders
If I close my mouth and keep silent.
I will walk without fear
And break the pole of Saturn
If I receive wine from Shems of Tebriz
And become drunk.
Это оно?
. . :
Уважаемый Феликс Александрович!
Образы и метафоры у Руми повторяются, варьируясь. Найденное Вами кое в чём, отчасти, напоминает то, что Вы искали. Но это не оно. Ищите дальше — и в конкретном, и в «общесуфийском» смысле.
P. S. Текста на английском у меня нет.
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