Spiritual Sunday – Ramadan
Today being the first day of the month when Muslims purify themselves through fasting and prayer to come closer to God, I share a poem by the Algerian Sufi mystic Ahmad al-Alawi. The poem calls to mind Song of Solomon, which uses erotically charged imagery to capture (so it has been interpreted) the relationship between God and Israel, or Christ “the bridegroom” and his church. Think also of how Dante turns to Beatrice as his divine guide in Paradiso.
Layla and Majnun are two lovers kept apart by parents in a 7th century Arab story that has been told and retold over the centuries. At some point it was picked up by various mystics, including the founder of the Bahá’í faith, to stand in for the beloved. The love between us and God is symbolized by a woman. In Arabic, Layla means night, further capturing the mystery.
Layla is also referenced in the well-known Eric Clapton song by that name.
In al-Alawi’s poem, the lover is annihilated, cleansed, and reborn in divine love:
She changed me and transfigured me,
And marked me with her special sign,
Pressed me to her, put me from her,
Named me as she is named.
Having slain and crumbled me,
She steeped the fragments in her blood.
Then, after my death, she raised me:
My star shines in her firmament.
Al-Alawi goes on to say that his poetry captures “something of her brightness.” Art is one way to approach the unattainable:
Thou that beauty wouldst describe,
Here is something of her brightness
Take it from me. It is my art.
Think it not idle vanity.
My Heart lied not when it divulged
The secret of my meeting her.
Here’s the poem, in all its sensuous immediacy:
Layla
Full near I came unto where dwelleth
Layla, when I heard her call.
That voice, would I might ever hear.it!
She favored me, and drew me to her,
Took me in, into her precinct,
With discourse intimate addressed me.
She sat me by her, then came closer,
Raised the cloak that hid her from me,
Made me marvel to distraction,
Bewildered me with all her beauty.
She took me and amazed me,
And hid me in her inmost self,
Until I thought that she was I,
And my life she took as ransom.
She changed me and transfigured me,
And marked me with her special sign,
Pressed me to her, put me from her,
Named me as she is named.
Having slain and crumbled me,
She steeped the fragments in her blood.
Then, after my death, she raised me:
My star shines in her firmament.
Where is my life, and where my body,
Where my willful soul? From her
The truth of these shone out to me
Secrets that had been hidden from me.
Mine eyes have never seen but her:
To naught else can they testify.
All meanings in her are comprised.
Glory be to her Creator!
Thou that beauty wouldst describe,
Here is something of her brightness
Take it from me. It is my art.
Think it not idle vanity.
My Heart lied not when it divulged
The secret of my meeting her.
If nearness unto her effaceth,
I still subsist in her subsistence.
Happy Ramadan!
