A knowledgeable person relates the tale: “There is a tree in India; whoever eats its fruit neither grows old nor dies!” A sultan hears this and, believing it to be true, becomes enamored with the tree and its fruit. He sends one of his divan officials, known for his wisdom, to find the tree and bring back its fruit.
The man travels throughout India for years, searching and exploring, leaving no city, mountain, or plain unexamined!
Whenever he asked about it, people laughed at him, saying, “What is he looking for? Is he mad?” Some mocked and beat him, while others said, “A wise and pure person like you must surely have a good reason for this quest; it can’t be in vain!”
Even the stories told to mock him were a blow! Some would jest, saying, “In a vast and fearsome land, there is a lush tree with branches so immense.” The sultan, hearing these reports, redoubles his efforts to find it.
He spends years wandering aimlessly. The sultan sends provisions, but the man endures much hardship in a foreign land, ultimately feeling helpless. He sees no trace of what he seeks, nor anything beyond mere words! His hope dwindles, and he gives up searching, growing weary. He resolves to return home, weeping along the way.
Unbeknownst to him, in the homeland where the seeker had despaired and turned back, there lived a learned shaykh among the noble and virtuous guides. The seeker, filled with despair, says, “First, I will go to his retreat, then I’ll set out on my way. I haven’t found what I seek; my hope is lost. At least let his prayer be my companion.” He arrives at the shaykh’s presence, his eyes overflowing with tears.
“Shaykh,” he says, “this is a time for compassion and mercy. My hope has vanished; this is the moment to grant me assistance!”
The shaykh asks, “Even in despair, speak. What do you seek? To what do you aspire?” The seeker replies, “I am a sultan who sent me to search for a tree. But what kind of tree is it? It’s something that cannot be found anywhere on earth. Its fruit is the essence of immortality. I have searched for years but not even seen a sign of it; only fools mocked me and entertained me.” The shaykh smiles and says, “O naive one, this tree is knowledge in the knower of God!”
It is an immense and vast tree, spreading throughout the world! Indeed, what does ‘tree’ even mean? It’s like a sea encompassing all sides – the Water of Life! You have become lost in forms and appearances. Because you have abandoned meaning, you cannot find it. They call it a tree sometimes, sometimes the sun, sometimes the sea, sometimes a cloud! In essence, it is something with countless manifestations. Its lowest quality is to bestow eternal life upon its possessor.
It is one, yet has countless manifestations and signs. It requires countless names. A man may be your father but is another’s son. To one person, he is an enemy, his description filled with harshness. To another, he bestows kindness and grace; he is found to be good. Though a single man, behold, he has countless names. Knowing one of his attributes distinguishes you from knowing another. Whoever clings to a name believes it to be the true name and falls into despair and ruin like the seeker. Why do you cling to the name of this tree and become a hapless soul with a parched throat?
Go beyond the name; look at its qualities, for the qualities will lead you to the Essence. The disagreement among people arises from names. But when they reach the meaning, they find peace.
A man gave one dirham to four people, and one said, “I’ll give this to ‘engur.’” Another was an Arab and said, “I want ‘Inab,’ not ‘engur.’” The third was a Turk and said, “This is mine; I don’t want ‘Inab,’ I want grapes.” The fourth was a Greek and said, “Let’s forget about these words; we want what Israfel wants!”
Then they began to fight because they were ignorant of the secret of names. Fools started punching each other due to their lack of knowledge. If someone with wisdom, a noble person, were present, he would reconcile them. He would say, “I will fulfill everyone’s desire with this one dirham.
Surrender your hearts to me without hesitation. This one dirham fulfills all your desires; it satisfies four wishes and reconciles four enemies, uniting them into one. Your words cause strife and discord, but my word unites you.
Be silent and listen so that my tongue may speak for you. Your words are countless, but their effect is only conflict and anger. There is no influence from fleeting heat, but the heat of a person’s own being is effective. Even vinegar heated in fire increases its acidity because it is foreign.
Son, even if molasses freezes, eating it still intensifies the heat in your liver. Therefore, the shaykh’s pretense is more precious than our sincerity, for his pretense comes from insight, while ours comes from blindness!
The shaykh’s words bring peace of mind, while the breath of envious people brings discord. When Solomon was touched by a manifestation of God, he learned the languages of all birds.
During his just reign, gazelles reconciled with leopards and abandoned war. Pigeons were safe from the clutches of nature, and sheep feared no wolves. Solomon mediated between enemies, and unity arose among all the birds. You resemble an ant, scurrying about to collect grains. But O reckless one, what are you seeking here? Solomon is present.
The seeker of grains finds only traps. But Solomon finds both the grain and himself. In this age, there is no peace among the birds. In our time too, Solomon exists to bring us reconciliation and remove our oppression. Read the verse: “No people are without a warner.” God said, “No people can be without an appointed one from Allah, a person of endeavor.”
That appointed one unites their hearts so completely that they lose all bickering and begin to cherish each other as siblings. That is why Muslims are called ‘one soul.’ They became one soul through the Messenger of God; otherwise, each was a complete enemy of the other.
There were two tribes among the Medinans: one was Aws, and the other was Khazraj. One tribe seemed to thirst for the blood of the other. Through the Messenger, their old animosity was destroyed by the light of Islam and purity. First, these enemies became brothers like grapes on a vine. They abandoned this advice with the saying, “Surely, believers are brothers,” and became one body.
The appearances of grapes are similar, but when pressed, they become a single juice. Koruk and grapes are opposites, but when koruk ripens, it becomes sweet, good, and a true friend. God has declared the koruk that remains in its form to be a disbeliever. Not my brother; he cannot be one soul anymore. He is nothing more than a wretched person consumed by malice. If I were to speak of the secrets hidden within him, discord would spread and ideas would become confused throughout the world.
It’s better that the secret of the blind pagan remains untold. It’s more pleasing that the smoke of Hell is far from the Garden of Irem! After all, the hearts of koruks capable of becoming grapes are united by the breath of eloquent tongues. If they all strive to become grapes, then duality will disappear, and strife and war will cease. They will all become grapes, tear off their skins, and unite, and their qualities will be one.
Friendship is in duality. But does anything fight itself? Bravo, O Master of Universal Intellect, who has bestowed unity upon countless particles! Just as the potter united them into a single pot, though they were scattered like grains of earth, so it is with water and earth—their union is a mixture, unlike life. But if I were to present an obvious example here, I fear your mind would be confused.
Solomon still exists, but we cannot see him because of our fondness for looking afar. A gaze into the distance blinds one, just as someone sleeping in a palace does not see the palace. We have become engrossed in subtle words, arguing about them endlessly. As we unravel and tie knots, we fall into doubt, prolonging the process of answering. Like a bird that repeatedly unties and reties a trap.
Such a bird wastes its life unraveling and tying knots, never losing its wings, but gradually becoming unable to fly. Do not waste time unraveling and tying knots so that your wings do not fail and you may continue to fly. Countless birds have had their wings broken, yet they have not remedied the traps in those troubled places.
Read the story of them in the Quran, O greedy one: “They traveled throughout cities and conquered every land.” See how Turks, Greeks, and Arabs fall into suspicion from ‘engur’ and ‘Inab.’ Solomon does not come until this duality is removed. O birds, all of you, hear the drumbeat of the city! Abandon your conflicts and illuminate your souls.
Wherever you are, turn your faces towards it. Solomon did not dissuade you from turning to him, but we are far from discipline. We have not even recognized Solomon! Like owls, we are hostile to doves. Knowledgeable ones injure the beloved of God. Birds illuminated by Solomon do not tear the wings of innocent birds.
They do not tear their wings; they feed the helpless. These are good birds, good birds! Their cooing opens a path for countless Balqises; crows are crows in appearance but are truly doves of endeavor—they are privy to the secret of “Mazaga.” Swallows say