In her outstanding book, The Triumphal Sun: A Study of the Works of Jalaloddin Rumi, the great German-born Rumi scholar, late Professor Annemarie Schimmel magnificently explains Rumi's metaphorical usage of Ney or Reed Flute: "The reed flute provided Rumi with an ideal symbol of the soul which can utter words only when touched by the lips of the Beloved, and moved by the breath of the spiritual master, an idea expressed before him by Sana'i. Man, cut off from the eternal ground of his existence, like the flute from the reed-bed, becomes resonant in separation and tells the secrets of love and longing. Jalaloddin often saw himself, in the pangs of separation, passionately complaining like the reed, and felt the inspiration through Shams enter into his empty heart like the breath of a flute player. Does not the flute open nine or ten eyes in order to behold the Friend? In repetitious verses Rumi has alluded to the enrapturing power of the ney which, hands and feet cut off, deprives people of hands and feet, i.e., carries away their reason.The reed flute has suffered; its head has been cut, exactly like that of the reed pen hence both instruments are media to convey information about the Beloved, one by singing, the other by writing. Likewise the ney is connected with the sugar cane, both are filled with the Friend's sweetness; both are dancing already in the reed-bed or in the field in the hope of the lip of the Beloved..."
Rumi is simply at his best in using Ney-Flute as a metaphor to poetically demonstrating Man's predicament in his or her spiritual journey upon the enlightenment path of Sufism, or any other mystical path for that matter, in search of God. I hope my translation can capture Rumi's truly heart-wrenching and melancholic outpourings.
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Listen to reed-flute as it tells a story
complaining of separations:
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Ever since I was cut from the reed-field
man and woman have moaned over of my wailing.
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I want a chest sliced open, sliced open by separation
to explain in detail the pain of longing.
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Anyone who's left far away from his or her roots
keeps on longing for the day of reunion.
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I've voiced my complaints in any gathering
becoming the companion of good and bad natured people.
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Everyone becomes my friend out of own suspicion
no one seeks out my secrets from the inside of me.
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My secrets are not that far away from my wailing
but their eyes and ears don't yet have that light.
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Neither flesh is veiled from the soul nor soul from the flesh
yet no one is allowed to see the soul.
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The wailing of this flute blows raging fire, not just some hot air
may anyone who's not already on fire, be annihilated!
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It is the fire of love which has filled this flute
it is the fervor of love which has filled this wine.
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Flute is the companion of anyone who breaks up with a partner
the sad notes of this flute tear apart our veils.
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Has anyone ever seen anything like this flute:
Being the poison and the antidote for that poison?
Being overly confident and also anxiously impatient?
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Flute narrates the tales of blood-soaked paths
and love stories of the mad-lover, Majnoon.
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The conscience trust of this logic is none but the unconscious one
since a tongue only has an ear as its client!
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My days turn into nights because of my sorrows
my days are accompanied with my burning pains.
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If the days keep going by too fast, just say: Go ahead, I don't fear!
You stay here with me, since no one as pure and clean as you are.
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Everyone gets fed up with the water except the fish
anyone without the daily bread feels the day is dragging on too long!
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The one who is still raw never knows how the burned one feels
but I need to make this long story short, so wasalam (goodbye)!
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