CONFERENCE OF THE BIRDS
Libretto by Sholeh Wolpé
adapted from the 12th Century epic poem by Farīd ud-Dīn Attar
~ ~ ~
I. The Birds of the World
NARRATOR:
The Birds of the world gathered from near and far.
Morghän-é jàhän bä jäy-gä-hee ämà-dànd
(Birds of world with loftiness they came)
Sàr bé sàr joo-yä-yé shähee ämà-dànd
(Head to head came looking for king they came )
مرغان جهان با جایگاهی آمدند
سر به سر جویای شاهی آمدند
BIRDS:
A nation without a leader
is like a body without a head.
Let’s seek a sovereign without delay.
NARRATOR:
The Hoopoe stepped forth,
She was King Solomon’s bird,
And wore a crown of honor on her head
HOOPOE:
Hear me O birds
I know who is our sovereign.
Simorgh is that beloved’s name.
It lives in Mount Qaf, on the other side of the world.
BIRDS:
Simorgh. Simorgh. Dear Hoopoe, tell us more.
HOOPOE:
When Simorgh unveiled itself, that sun-like face cast
a hundred thousand shadows on earth.
Birds, you all were born in Simorgh’s shadow.
BIRDS:
Shadow? How are we to find Simorgh in its shadow?
We will be deprived of light.
HOOPOE:
Foolish birds, don’t you see?
When a door is cracked open,
sunlight pours in. Shadows suddenly vanish.
We must go now. Will you come?
Looking for the great Simorgh?
BIRDS:
Looking for the Great Simorgh.
The road ahead looks long.
The road ahead frightens us.
HOOPOE:
Yes, the journey is long and hard.
But if you don’t become a seeker,
you might as well be a corpse,
a listless shadow on the wall,
a soulless puppet or a beast.
BIRDS:
a listless shadow on the wall,
a soul-less puppet or a beast.
BIRDS:
How far must we travel?
HOOPOE:
There are Seven valleys we must cross
to reach Simorgh’s door.
BIRDS:
Seven valleys? That many? We are afraid. We are weak.
HOOPOE:
Love will fuel our journey.
BIRDS:
We tremble. We faint.
HOOPOE:
Set your reason on fire!
Love will fuel our journey.
BIRDS:
Love will fuel our journey.
We will, will, will follow.
HOOPOE:
If you can find your way to the ocean
why rush toward a drop of dew?
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
II. The Valley of the Quest
HOOPOE:
Look birds, here is the first valley, The Valley of the Quest.
BIRDS:
Vadee-yeh Tá-láb ( وادی طلب)
HOOPOE:
Enter and give up what you believe, what you don’t believe.
Empty your cup so you can receive.
BIRDS:
We will empty ourselves of what we believe,
What we don’t believe.
We will empty our cup so we can receive.
HOOPOE:
There’s that famous lover, Majnun.
Look how he flings himself on the dust,
searching the dirt in despair.
III. Majnun in Search of Layli
PASSERBY:
What are you looking for, Majnun?
MAJNUN:
I am seeking my beloved Layli.
PASSERBY:
Layli? Ha ha ha. Layli? Ha ha. Ignorant man,
don’t you know Layli is like fresh water’s pearl!
And you look for her in dust and dirt?
MAJNUN:
Ignorance is yours, madness of love mine.
I do not know where to seek my Layli,
therefore I seek her anywhere and everywhere.
HOOPOE:
If you can’t find the Beloved,
that Beauty is not lost,
It is you who don’t know where to seek.
BIRDS:
We will not stop seeking, not for a moment.
We will not rest, not for a moment
We won’t falter on this quest, not for a moment.
HOOPOE:
Don’t be distracted by what the Beloved is not.
The only closed doors are your own eyes.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
IV. The Valley of Love
HOOPOE:
This is the second Valley, the Valley of Love
BIRDS:
Vadee-yeh Eshq (وادی عشق).
HOOPOE:
In this valley
love is fire, mind is smoke.
BIRDS:
Love is fire, mind is smoke.
HOOPE:
When love arrives, reason flees.
BIRDS:
Every leaf exists because of love,
bent with the drunkenness of love.
NARRATOR:
The lovesick Nightingale stumbled forward,
drunk with passion and beside itself.
V. The Nightingale
NIGHTINGALE:
The mysteries of love begin and end with me.
I repeat love’s teachings each night.
The reed wails because of what I reveal,
gardens are in a riot because of me.
So deeply in love am I with the rose
that my own existence is nothing to me.
HOOPOE:
Give it a week and look again.
Loving a thing of fleeting loveliness
brings nothing but heartache.
Learn love in the dominion of the soul.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
VI. The Valley of Knowledge
HOOPOE:
Here is the Valley of knowledge with its boundless roads
unfurling in every direction.
BIRDS:
Vadee-yeh Má-re-fát ( وادی معرفت).
HOOPOE:
Here, knowledge is split
into unnumbered insights.
One person finds it in a mosque,
another finds it in a church or temple.
BIRDS:
One person finds it in a mosque,
another person finds it in a church or temple.
HOOPE:
Look at that lover, exhausted by tears.
Wearied by sighs. And now they fall asleep.
VII. The City of Lovers
BELOVED LOVER:
Sleeping one, if you’re a merchant
get up and go for silver.
If you’re a holy one,
pray till dawn and serve.
But if you are a lover.
how can your eyes know sleep?
A lover wanders by day.
Is sleepless by night.
If you sleep anywhere
but in your own shroud
your love is only for yourself.
Your love is just talk.
So sleep, fool. Sleep on…. Sleep tight.
You do not belong
to the city of lovers.
BIRDS:
Sleep on, sleep tight
HOOPOE:
To a watchful lover
love comes with knowledge.
Vigilance will make you a seer.
If you pass out
let it be from intoxication of love.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
VIII. The Valley of Detachment
HOOPOE:
Welcome to the Valley of Detachment where meanings are irrelevant.
BIRDS:
Vadee-eh Es-teq-nä ( وادی استقنا)
HOOPOE:
Here, everything is erased, from the moonfish to the moon.
BIRDS:
Az mäh hee bé mäh ( از ماه به ماهی)
(from the moonfish to the moon)
HOOPE:
Look at that hungry fly buzzing for a taste of honey!
IX. The Trapped Fly
FLY:
Look at those bees
Look at those lucky bees
I will give a grain of barley to get me into that honeycomb.
BEES:
Take his grain. Get him in. Ha ha. Get him in.
FLY:
Such a happy time. Such much honey.
BEES:
Happy fly. For now.
FLY:
But wait! My feet are stuck in the honey. I’m trapped. Trapped.
BEES:
Trapped.
FLY:
Help me! Help me!
I will give a hundred barley grains to get out.
HOOPOE:
Distracted heart, you spent your time in fruitless pursuits.
Where will you find another lifetime to correct this?
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
X. The Valley of Unity
HOOPOE:
Here is the Valley of Unity.
BIRDS:
vädee-yeh tu-heed (وادی توحید) Valley of Unity.
HOOPOE:
In the Valley of Unity, all is one, there is no two.
There is no me apart from you.
BIRDS:
Unity in diversity.
XI. The Lovers
HOOPOE:
Look, a woman fell into the rushing waters!
Her lover quickly jumped in too!
NARRATOR:
The sea breathed them in and exhaled them towards the shore.
Barely alive they lay on the sand.
LOVER 1:
Ah…. you sweet fool. I fell in and was almost dead. But you! Why did you follow? You could have lost your life.
LOVER 2:
Ah… you sweet fool. Are you not me and I am you? Where is the two of us when there is only one? When you fell it was I who fell too.
LOVER 1:
I am you and you are me. There is no two.
LOVER 2:
If there is an I, there is no unity.
LOVER 1:
No unity.
LOVER 2:
I am you, you are you and you are me.
LOVER 1:
I am you, and you are you and you are me.
LOVER 1, LOVER 2 AND BIRDS
Let’s lose this you and lose this me. That is unity.
Lose me in you and you in me, with you as you and me as me.
Unity in diversity. That is oneness.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
XII. The Valley of Wonderment
HOOPOE:
Welcome to the Valley of Wonderment.
Arrive lost,
become even more lost.
BIRDS:
vadee-yeh hey-rát (وادی حیرت )
HOOPOE:
Arrive lost,
become even more lost.
Look how we lose ourselves,
become even more lost.
HOOPOE:
Look at that man, wailing by a locked door!
XIII. The Wayfarer’s Door
CRYING MAN:
The door is locked. I have no key.
WAYFARER:
Why such a fuss? You know where the door is. So what it is closed?
BIRDS:
So what if it’s closed?
WAYFARER:
Sit tight by the door. Someone will open. If only I could find the door I’m looking for. I’ve been wandering this valley for years, soul burning. If only I could find my Beloved’s door. It won’t matter a bit if the door were shut, locked, or wide open. How long must I suffer this confusion?
HOOPOE:
Beware for in the Valley of Wonderment, fire is frozen; and ice sizzles with pain.
BIRDS:
Fire is frozen. Ice sizzles hot with pain.
SOLOIST 1:
Are you drunk or no?
SOLOIST 2:
Do you exist or no?
SOLOIST 3:
Are you within or without?
SOLOIST 4:
Are you hidden or manifest?
SOLOIST 5:
I know nothing.
SOLOIST 1:
I’m in love but don’t know with whom.
SOLOIST 2:
I’m neither devout nor faithless.
SOLOIST 3:
I don’t know who I am.
ALL SOLOISTS:
Of our own love we are ignorant too.
Our heart is both full and empty of love.
BIRDS:
Our heart is both full and empty of love.
HOOPOE and NARRATOR:
Where the heart disappears,
the place disappears too.
This is where mysteries of the world
unravel in a single breath.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä mi tàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
XIV. The Valley of Poverty and Annihilation
HOOPOE:
Now we arrive. This the final valley.
The Valley of Poverty and Annihilation.
BIRDS:
fáqr-o-fánä (فقر و فنا) Poverty. Annihilation.
HOOPOE:
Here you reach the final ocean.
Both worlds are reflected on its dancing face.
Arrive as a pure soul, join and become the ocean.
BIRDS:
Join the ocean. Become the ocean. Be the ocean.
HOOPOE
Arrive as a pebble, wrapped in your ego, sink to its depths.
Yourself forever. Never the ocean.
Look at them searching,
That flurry of moths.
XIV. The Moths
NARRATOR:
The moths of the world gather from near and far… seeking to know the candle.
MOTHS:
What is a candle? What is a flame? Let’s send a moth without delay.
MOTH SCIENTIST
A candle is bright
A candle is warm
A candle is inviting
MOTHS:
What use is that information? Ignorant moth! Send a poet to investigate.
MOTH POET
A candle blazes. It is red and gold flame.
It rises like the sun and burns.
Ah, look how it singed my wings.
MOTHS:
Beautiful words poet, but we still don’t know. What is a candle? Send a Sufi.
MOTH SUFI
AAAAAH.
HOOPOE:
If you are lost,
if no trace of you remains,
that’s when you merge with your Beloved.
Become one.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
XVI. Only 30 Birds
NARRATOR:
The birds travel for years,
cross deserts and mountains.
Some drown in the sea;
others simply vanish.
Some burn their wings in the sun
or the heat bakes their hearts.
Some disappear in the claws
of greedy beasts.
Some die of thirst in the desert,
Some lose their minds longing for a grain of wheat.
Some become weak, fall behind, and vanish.
Some are charmed by marvels and stay behind.
In the end, only a handful survive.
Of the one hundred thousand birds,
only thirty arrive at Simorgh’s door.
XVII. At The Gates
BIRDS:
What majesty.
beyond all reason,
myriad suns,
multiple moons.
HOOPOE:
Wonder of wonders!
BIRDS:
We are atoms dancing in whirlwind.
Invisible motes in sunlight.
HOOPOE:
How are we to make our presence known?
BIRDS:
Now what are we to do?
Now where are we to go?
NARRATOR:
At last, the great portal opened.
A herald of Glory emerged and looked
at the wingless, featherless birds,
bewildered from claw to tail.
HERALD:
Greetings, birds.
Where do you come from?
Why have you come?
What are your names, you good-for-nothing bunch?
Who speaks for you?
What do you want here?
BIRDS:
We’ve come a long way to meet Simorgh.
We’re lovers of that Great Bird.
HOOPOE:
We were thousands, but now
only we, thirty birds have survived.
Will that Great One accept and pity our pain?
Will that Beloved grant us entry to see its face?
HERALD:
Bewildered, scrawny birds, away with you.
Simorgh is the Eternal Ruler.
What can you offer but blood and pus?
BIRDS:
Would the Great Simorgh
throw us out with such contempt?
HERALD:
The lightning of Glory will flash
and uproot the veins from your flesh.
HOOPOE:
Väy Väy Väy Väy
Have I mislead these birds?
Have I brought them here for this?
Oh Hoopoe, foolish bird! What have you done?
NARRATOR:
Hoopoe, stop this wailing.
Remember the moths.
HOOPOE:
The moths.
Not until the mystic moth threw itself
Into the flame, did it truly meet the flame.
BIRDS:
Not until the mystic moth flung itself
Into the flame, did it learn its mysteries.
No room for ego,
no room for any kind of self at all.
BIRDS/HOOPOE:
Tä ná-gárdee bee-khá-bár áz jes-mo-jàn
Kay khá-bár yä-bee ze jä-nän yek zá-män
تا نگردی بیخبر از جسم و جان کی خبر یابی ز جانان یک زمان؟
(No room here for ego, no room for any kind of self at all.)
HOOPOE:
Herald, open the portal.
We have arrived in love.
Nothing of us remains
BIRDS/HOOPOE:
but our love for Simorgh.
XVIII. The Gates Open
HOOPOE:
Bathed in eternal light of lights.
BIRDS:
Bathed in eternal light of lights.
Purified.
NARRATOR:
The birds at last saw the face of Simorgh,
but in a reflection.
When they looked closer,
they saw the reflection was their own:
Simorgh . . . si morgh . . .
which means: thirty birds.
BIRDS:
Simorgh…. Si Morgh
We are startled.
We are amazed
How can this be?
We are one and the same.
We are Simorgh.
XIX. Epilogue
SOLOIST 1:
A mirror is the Beloved’s sun-like face.
SOLOIST 2:
Look into it and see both body and soul,
yourself, body and soul.
SOLOIST 3:
You have arrived as thirty birds,
and in the mirror you see thirty birds.
SOLOIST 4:
Had you come as forty or fifty,
You’d have seen in the mirror forty or fifty.
SOLOIST 5:
Though you’ve come in vast number,
you still see yourself . . .
SOLOIST 4/5:
you will always see yourself.
SOLOIST 6:
All that you’ve known, all that you’ve seen,
were illusions, all of it.
SOLOIST 5:
Nothing you said or heard
was actually so.
DUO:
The valleys you traversed
were in Me,
TRIO:
the bravery you displayed
was Mine.
ALL SOLOISTS:
Come, obliterate yourselves in Me.
Become Me to find yourselves once more.
BIRDS
Become Me to find yourselves once more.
NARRATOR:
Like a shadow that vanishes in the sunlight,
the birds surrendered themselves to Simorgh
and became utterly nothing.
Silence fell as both the pilgrims and their leader
became one with the Way.
THE END
Libretto by Sholeh Wolpé
adapted from the 12th Century epic poem by Farīd ud-Dīn Attar
~ ~ ~
I. The Birds of the World
NARRATOR:
The Birds of the world gathered from near and far.
Morghän-é jàhän bä jäy-gä-hee ämà-dànd
(Birds of world with loftiness they came)
Sàr bé sàr joo-yä-yé shähee ämà-dànd
(Head to head came looking for king they came )
مرغان جهان با جایگاهی آمدند
سر به سر جویای شاهی آمدند
BIRDS:
A nation without a leader
is like a body without a head.
Let’s seek a sovereign without delay.
NARRATOR:
The Hoopoe stepped forth,
She was King Solomon’s bird,
And wore a crown of honor on her head
HOOPOE:
Hear me O birds
I know who is our sovereign.
Simorgh is that beloved’s name.
It lives in Mount Qaf, on the other side of the world.
BIRDS:
Simorgh. Simorgh. Dear Hoopoe, tell us more.
HOOPOE:
When Simorgh unveiled itself, that sun-like face cast
a hundred thousand shadows on earth.
Birds, you all were born in Simorgh’s shadow.
BIRDS:
Shadow? How are we to find Simorgh in its shadow?
We will be deprived of light.
HOOPOE:
Foolish birds, don’t you see?
When a door is cracked open,
sunlight pours in. Shadows suddenly vanish.
We must go now. Will you come?
Looking for the great Simorgh?
BIRDS:
Looking for the Great Simorgh.
The road ahead looks long.
The road ahead frightens us.
HOOPOE:
Yes, the journey is long and hard.
But if you don’t become a seeker,
you might as well be a corpse,
a listless shadow on the wall,
a soulless puppet or a beast.
BIRDS:
a listless shadow on the wall,
a soul-less puppet or a beast.
BIRDS:
How far must we travel?
HOOPOE:
There are Seven valleys we must cross
to reach Simorgh’s door.
BIRDS:
Seven valleys? That many? We are afraid. We are weak.
HOOPOE:
Love will fuel our journey.
BIRDS:
We tremble. We faint.
HOOPOE:
Set your reason on fire!
Love will fuel our journey.
BIRDS:
Love will fuel our journey.
We will, will, will follow.
HOOPOE:
If you can find your way to the ocean
why rush toward a drop of dew?
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
II. The Valley of the Quest
HOOPOE:
Look birds, here is the first valley, The Valley of the Quest.
BIRDS:
Vadee-yeh Tá-láb ( وادی طلب)
HOOPOE:
Enter and give up what you believe, what you don’t believe.
Empty your cup so you can receive.
BIRDS:
We will empty ourselves of what we believe,
What we don’t believe.
We will empty our cup so we can receive.
HOOPOE:
There’s that famous lover, Majnun.
Look how he flings himself on the dust,
searching the dirt in despair.
III. Majnun in Search of Layli
PASSERBY:
What are you looking for, Majnun?
MAJNUN:
I am seeking my beloved Layli.
PASSERBY:
Layli? Ha ha ha. Layli? Ha ha. Ignorant man,
don’t you know Layli is like fresh water’s pearl!
And you look for her in dust and dirt?
MAJNUN:
Ignorance is yours, madness of love mine.
I do not know where to seek my Layli,
therefore I seek her anywhere and everywhere.
HOOPOE:
If you can’t find the Beloved,
that Beauty is not lost,
It is you who don’t know where to seek.
BIRDS:
We will not stop seeking, not for a moment.
We will not rest, not for a moment
We won’t falter on this quest, not for a moment.
HOOPOE:
Don’t be distracted by what the Beloved is not.
The only closed doors are your own eyes.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
IV. The Valley of Love
HOOPOE:
This is the second Valley, the Valley of Love
BIRDS:
Vadee-yeh Eshq (وادی عشق).
HOOPOE:
In this valley
love is fire, mind is smoke.
BIRDS:
Love is fire, mind is smoke.
HOOPE:
When love arrives, reason flees.
BIRDS:
Every leaf exists because of love,
bent with the drunkenness of love.
NARRATOR:
The lovesick Nightingale stumbled forward,
drunk with passion and beside itself.
V. The Nightingale
NIGHTINGALE:
The mysteries of love begin and end with me.
I repeat love’s teachings each night.
The reed wails because of what I reveal,
gardens are in a riot because of me.
So deeply in love am I with the rose
that my own existence is nothing to me.
HOOPOE:
Give it a week and look again.
Loving a thing of fleeting loveliness
brings nothing but heartache.
Learn love in the dominion of the soul.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
VI. The Valley of Knowledge
HOOPOE:
Here is the Valley of knowledge with its boundless roads
unfurling in every direction.
BIRDS:
Vadee-yeh Má-re-fát ( وادی معرفت).
HOOPOE:
Here, knowledge is split
into unnumbered insights.
One person finds it in a mosque,
another finds it in a church or temple.
BIRDS:
One person finds it in a mosque,
another person finds it in a church or temple.
HOOPE:
Look at that lover, exhausted by tears.
Wearied by sighs. And now they fall asleep.
VII. The City of Lovers
BELOVED LOVER:
Sleeping one, if you’re a merchant
get up and go for silver.
If you’re a holy one,
pray till dawn and serve.
But if you are a lover.
how can your eyes know sleep?
A lover wanders by day.
Is sleepless by night.
If you sleep anywhere
but in your own shroud
your love is only for yourself.
Your love is just talk.
So sleep, fool. Sleep on…. Sleep tight.
You do not belong
to the city of lovers.
BIRDS:
Sleep on, sleep tight
HOOPOE:
To a watchful lover
love comes with knowledge.
Vigilance will make you a seer.
If you pass out
let it be from intoxication of love.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
VIII. The Valley of Detachment
HOOPOE:
Welcome to the Valley of Detachment where meanings are irrelevant.
BIRDS:
Vadee-eh Es-teq-nä ( وادی استقنا)
HOOPOE:
Here, everything is erased, from the moonfish to the moon.
BIRDS:
Az mäh hee bé mäh ( از ماه به ماهی)
(from the moonfish to the moon)
HOOPE:
Look at that hungry fly buzzing for a taste of honey!
IX. The Trapped Fly
FLY:
Look at those bees
Look at those lucky bees
I will give a grain of barley to get me into that honeycomb.
BEES:
Take his grain. Get him in. Ha ha. Get him in.
FLY:
Such a happy time. Such much honey.
BEES:
Happy fly. For now.
FLY:
But wait! My feet are stuck in the honey. I’m trapped. Trapped.
BEES:
Trapped.
FLY:
Help me! Help me!
I will give a hundred barley grains to get out.
HOOPOE:
Distracted heart, you spent your time in fruitless pursuits.
Where will you find another lifetime to correct this?
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
X. The Valley of Unity
HOOPOE:
Here is the Valley of Unity.
BIRDS:
vädee-yeh tu-heed (وادی توحید) Valley of Unity.
HOOPOE:
In the Valley of Unity, all is one, there is no two.
There is no me apart from you.
BIRDS:
Unity in diversity.
XI. The Lovers
HOOPOE:
Look, a woman fell into the rushing waters!
Her lover quickly jumped in too!
NARRATOR:
The sea breathed them in and exhaled them towards the shore.
Barely alive they lay on the sand.
LOVER 1:
Ah…. you sweet fool. I fell in and was almost dead. But you! Why did you follow? You could have lost your life.
LOVER 2:
Ah… you sweet fool. Are you not me and I am you? Where is the two of us when there is only one? When you fell it was I who fell too.
LOVER 1:
I am you and you are me. There is no two.
LOVER 2:
If there is an I, there is no unity.
LOVER 1:
No unity.
LOVER 2:
I am you, you are you and you are me.
LOVER 1:
I am you, and you are you and you are me.
LOVER 1, LOVER 2 AND BIRDS
Let’s lose this you and lose this me. That is unity.
Lose me in you and you in me, with you as you and me as me.
Unity in diversity. That is oneness.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
XII. The Valley of Wonderment
HOOPOE:
Welcome to the Valley of Wonderment.
Arrive lost,
become even more lost.
BIRDS:
vadee-yeh hey-rát (وادی حیرت )
HOOPOE:
Arrive lost,
become even more lost.
Look how we lose ourselves,
become even more lost.
HOOPOE:
Look at that man, wailing by a locked door!
XIII. The Wayfarer’s Door
CRYING MAN:
The door is locked. I have no key.
WAYFARER:
Why such a fuss? You know where the door is. So what it is closed?
BIRDS:
So what if it’s closed?
WAYFARER:
Sit tight by the door. Someone will open. If only I could find the door I’m looking for. I’ve been wandering this valley for years, soul burning. If only I could find my Beloved’s door. It won’t matter a bit if the door were shut, locked, or wide open. How long must I suffer this confusion?
HOOPOE:
Beware for in the Valley of Wonderment, fire is frozen; and ice sizzles with pain.
BIRDS:
Fire is frozen. Ice sizzles hot with pain.
SOLOIST 1:
Are you drunk or no?
SOLOIST 2:
Do you exist or no?
SOLOIST 3:
Are you within or without?
SOLOIST 4:
Are you hidden or manifest?
SOLOIST 5:
I know nothing.
SOLOIST 1:
I’m in love but don’t know with whom.
SOLOIST 2:
I’m neither devout nor faithless.
SOLOIST 3:
I don’t know who I am.
ALL SOLOISTS:
Of our own love we are ignorant too.
Our heart is both full and empty of love.
BIRDS:
Our heart is both full and empty of love.
HOOPOE and NARRATOR:
Where the heart disappears,
the place disappears too.
This is where mysteries of the world
unravel in a single breath.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä mi tàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
XIV. The Valley of Poverty and Annihilation
HOOPOE:
Now we arrive. This the final valley.
The Valley of Poverty and Annihilation.
BIRDS:
fáqr-o-fánä (فقر و فنا) Poverty. Annihilation.
HOOPOE:
Here you reach the final ocean.
Both worlds are reflected on its dancing face.
Arrive as a pure soul, join and become the ocean.
BIRDS:
Join the ocean. Become the ocean. Be the ocean.
HOOPOE
Arrive as a pebble, wrapped in your ego, sink to its depths.
Yourself forever. Never the ocean.
Look at them searching,
That flurry of moths.
XIV. The Moths
NARRATOR:
The moths of the world gather from near and far… seeking to know the candle.
MOTHS:
What is a candle? What is a flame? Let’s send a moth without delay.
MOTH SCIENTIST
A candle is bright
A candle is warm
A candle is inviting
MOTHS:
What use is that information? Ignorant moth! Send a poet to investigate.
MOTH POET
A candle blazes. It is red and gold flame.
It rises like the sun and burns.
Ah, look how it singed my wings.
MOTHS:
Beautiful words poet, but we still don’t know. What is a candle? Send a Sufi.
MOTH SUFI
AAAAAH.
HOOPOE:
If you are lost,
if no trace of you remains,
that’s when you merge with your Beloved.
Become one.
EVERYONE:
Chon bé dàryä meetàväni räh yäft,
Sooyé yek shàbnàm cherä bäyàd shetäft
چون به دریا میتوانی راه یافت
سوی یک شبنم چرا باید شتافت؟
(If you can find your way to the ocean why rush toward a drop of dew?)
XVI. Only 30 Birds
NARRATOR:
The birds travel for years,
cross deserts and mountains.
Some drown in the sea;
others simply vanish.
Some burn their wings in the sun
or the heat bakes their hearts.
Some disappear in the claws
of greedy beasts.
Some die of thirst in the desert,
Some lose their minds longing for a grain of wheat.
Some become weak, fall behind, and vanish.
Some are charmed by marvels and stay behind.
In the end, only a handful survive.
Of the one hundred thousand birds,
only thirty arrive at Simorgh’s door.
XVII. At The Gates
BIRDS:
What majesty.
beyond all reason,
myriad suns,
multiple moons.
HOOPOE:
Wonder of wonders!
BIRDS:
We are atoms dancing in whirlwind.
Invisible motes in sunlight.
HOOPOE:
How are we to make our presence known?
BIRDS:
Now what are we to do?
Now where are we to go?
NARRATOR:
At last, the great portal opened.
A herald of Glory emerged and looked
at the wingless, featherless birds,
bewildered from claw to tail.
HERALD:
Greetings, birds.
Where do you come from?
Why have you come?
What are your names, you good-for-nothing bunch?
Who speaks for you?
What do you want here?
BIRDS:
We’ve come a long way to meet Simorgh.
We’re lovers of that Great Bird.
HOOPOE:
We were thousands, but now
only we, thirty birds have survived.
Will that Great One accept and pity our pain?
Will that Beloved grant us entry to see its face?
HERALD:
Bewildered, scrawny birds, away with you.
Simorgh is the Eternal Ruler.
What can you offer but blood and pus?
BIRDS:
Would the Great Simorgh
throw us out with such contempt?
HERALD:
The lightning of Glory will flash
and uproot the veins from your flesh.
HOOPOE:
Väy Väy Väy Väy
Have I mislead these birds?
Have I brought them here for this?
Oh Hoopoe, foolish bird! What have you done?
NARRATOR:
Hoopoe, stop this wailing.
Remember the moths.
HOOPOE:
The moths.
Not until the mystic moth threw itself
Into the flame, did it truly meet the flame.
BIRDS:
Not until the mystic moth flung itself
Into the flame, did it learn its mysteries.
No room for ego,
no room for any kind of self at all.
BIRDS/HOOPOE:
Tä ná-gárdee bee-khá-bár áz jes-mo-jàn
Kay khá-bár yä-bee ze jä-nän yek zá-män
تا نگردی بیخبر از جسم و جان کی خبر یابی ز جانان یک زمان؟
(No room here for ego, no room for any kind of self at all.)
HOOPOE:
Herald, open the portal.
We have arrived in love.
Nothing of us remains
BIRDS/HOOPOE:
but our love for Simorgh.
XVIII. The Gates Open
HOOPOE:
Bathed in eternal light of lights.
BIRDS:
Bathed in eternal light of lights.
Purified.
NARRATOR:
The birds at last saw the face of Simorgh,
but in a reflection.
When they looked closer,
they saw the reflection was their own:
Simorgh . . . si morgh . . .
which means: thirty birds.
BIRDS:
Simorgh…. Si Morgh
We are startled.
We are amazed
How can this be?
We are one and the same.
We are Simorgh.
XIX. Epilogue
SOLOIST 1:
A mirror is the Beloved’s sun-like face.
SOLOIST 2:
Look into it and see both body and soul,
yourself, body and soul.
SOLOIST 3:
You have arrived as thirty birds,
and in the mirror you see thirty birds.
SOLOIST 4:
Had you come as forty or fifty,
You’d have seen in the mirror forty or fifty.
SOLOIST 5:
Though you’ve come in vast number,
you still see yourself . . .
SOLOIST 4/5:
you will always see yourself.
SOLOIST 6:
All that you’ve known, all that you’ve seen,
were illusions, all of it.
SOLOIST 5:
Nothing you said or heard
was actually so.
DUO:
The valleys you traversed
were in Me,
TRIO:
the bravery you displayed
was Mine.
ALL SOLOISTS:
Come, obliterate yourselves in Me.
Become Me to find yourselves once more.
BIRDS
Become Me to find yourselves once more.
NARRATOR:
Like a shadow that vanishes in the sunlight,
the birds surrendered themselves to Simorgh
and became utterly nothing.
Silence fell as both the pilgrims and their leader
became one with the Way.
THE END