Page 61 - The Book of Rumi
P. 61

enveloping the whirlers in a mystic cloud. The Sufi s sang and danced, raising
                    their arms toward the sky, whirling round and round, stomping their feet then

                    prostrating on the floor, sweeping it clean with their robes. As the sama gath-
                    ered pace, the musicians picked up the beat and began to sing enthusiastically:
                    “The ass is gone, the ass is gone!”
                                              2
                       Arms in the air, the samazans  repeated madly after the musicians: “The
                    ass is gone, the ass is gone!”
                       The owner of the donkey, unaware that it was his donkey they were sing-
                    ing about, joined in passionately and sang along with them: “The ass is gone,
                    the ass is gone!”
                       The sama continued long into the night, lasting until dawn. At sunrise,
                    the men left one by one on their separate ways, bidding each other warm fare-
                    wells. The owner of the donkey wiped the dust off his clothes and gathered
                    his belongings, getting ready for another working day. Hurrying to catch up
                    with his newfound darvish friends, he rushed to the stables but did not see
                    his four-legged companion. He thought that the stableboy must have taken
                    the animal to the stream to let him drink; perhaps he hadn’t had enough water
                    the night before. When the young boy fi nally appeared, the owner asked him
                    about his donkey’s whereabouts. The boy was confounded and told him that
                    he had no idea what he was talking about. The owner became furious and
                    grabbed him by the throat, threatening him with his life.
                       “I left my donkey in your care last night,” he screamed. “You were meant
                    to look after him. Don’t you dare give me excuses; quickly go and bring him
                    to me—otherwise, I shall take you directly to the authorities!” he threatened.
                       “I was overpowered by the darvishes,” confessed the boy.  “I feared for
                    my life! They sold your donkey and used the money to purchase the feast last
                    night. To leave a loaf of bread with a group of hungry men is like throwing a
                    scrawny cat to a pack of wild dogs!” he exclaimed, trying to view the situation
                    philosophically.
                       “Supposing they took him from you by force, shouldn’t you have informed
                    me that they were stealing my donkey? If you had, I could have at least bought

                    2  Sufi  whirlers.




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