Muslim Saints and Mystics

Episodes from the Tadhkirat al-Auliya’ ( Memorial of the Saints )

by Farid al-Din Attar
Translated by A. J. Arberry

Dho ‘l-Nun al-Mesri

Abu ‘l-Faiz Thauban ibn Ebrahim al-Mesri, called Dho ‘l-Nun, was born at Ekhmim in Upper Egypt c. 180 (796), studied under various teach-ers and travelled extensively in Arabia and Syria.
In 214 (829) he was arrested on a charge of heresy and sent to Baghdad to prison, but after examination he was released on the caliph’s orders to return to Cairo, where he died in 246
(861); his tombstone has been preserved. A leg-endary figure as alchemist and thaumaturge, he is supposed to have known the secret of the Egyptian hieroglyphs. A number of poems and short treatises are attributed to him, but these are for the most part apocryphal.
Dho ‘I-Nun the Egyptian and how he was converted Dho ‘l-Nun the Egyptian told the following story of his
conversion.
I was informed that in a certain place an ascetic was
living. I set forth to visit him, and found him suspend-
ing himself from a tree.
“O body,” he was saying, “assist me to obey God,
else I will keep you hanging like this until you die of
hunger.”
A fit of weeping overcame me. The devotee heard me
crying.
“Who is this,” he called, “who has compassion upon
one whose shame is little and whose crimes are many?”
I approached him and gave him greeting.
“What is this state of affairs?” I asked.
“This body of mine gives me no peace to obey God,”
he replied. “It wants to mingle with other men.”
I supposed that he must have shed a Muslim’s blood,
or committed some other deadly sin.
“Did you not realize,” the ascetic said to me, “that
once you mingle with other men, everything else fol-
lows?”
“What a tremendous ascetic you are!” I cried.
“Would you like to see someone more ascetic than
I?” he said
“I would,” I said.
“Go into yonder mountain,” he said. “There you
will see.’
I proceeded thither, and saw a young man squatting
in a hermitage; one foot had been amputated and flung
out of the cell, and the worms were devouring it. I
approached him and saluted him, then I enquired after
his circumstances.
“One day,” he told me, “I was seated in this her-
mitage when a woman happened to pass by. My heart
inclined towards her and my body demanded of me to
go after her. I put one foot out of the cell, then I heard
a voice saying, “Are you not ashamed, after serving
and obeying God for thirty years, an now you obey
Satan and chase a loose woman?” So I cut off the foot
that I had set outside the hermitage, and now I sit here
waiting for what will transpire and what they will do
with me. What business has brought you to such sin-
ners? If you desire to see a man of God, proceed to the
top of this mountain.”
The mountain was too high for me to reach the top,
so I enquired about this man.
“Yes,” I was told. “It is a long time now that a man
has been serving God in that cell. One day a man came
along and disputed with him, saying that daily bread
was meant for earning. The devotee vowed that he
would eat nothing that involved the acquisition of
material possessions. For many days he ate nothing.
Then Almighty God sent a cloud of bees to hover
around him and give him honey.”
The things I had seen and the words I had heard
caused a mighty pain to clutch my heart. I realized that
whoever puts his trust in God, God cares for him and
suffers not his anguish to be in vain. As I went on my
way, I saw a blind little bird perched in a tree. It flut-
tered down from the tree.
“Where will this helpless creature get food and
water?” I cried.
The bird dug the earth with its beak and two saucers
appeared, one of gold containing grain and the other of
silver full of rosewater. The bird ate its fill, then it flew
up into the tree and the saucers vanished.
Utterly dumbfounded, Dho ‘l-Nun thenceforward
put his trust in God completely, and was truly convert-
ed. He pushed on several stages, and when night fell he
came to a desert. In that desert he sighted a jar of gold
and jewels, and on the top of the jar a tablet on which
was written the name of God. His companions divided
the gold and the jewels between them.
“Give me the tablet on which is written the name of
my Friend,” Dho ‘l-Nun cried.
And he took the tablet. He kissed the tablet all
through the day and night, till by the blessing of the
tablet he so progressed that one night he dreamed a
voice said to him, “All the rest chose the gold and jew-
els, for they are precious. You chose what was loftier
than that, my Name. Therefore I have opened to you
the door of knowledge and wisdom.”
Dho ‘l-Nun then returned to the city. His story con-
tinues.
I was walking one day when I reached the margin
of a river. By the water I saw a pavilion. I proceeded
to make my ablutions, and when I had finished my
eye suddenly fell on the roof of the pavilion. On the
balcony I saw a very beautiful girl standing. Wanting
to prove her, I said, “Maiden, to whom do you
belong?”
“Dho ‘l-Nun,” replied she, “when you appeared
from afar I supposed you were a madman. When you
came nearer, I supposed you were a scholar. When you
came still nearer, I supposed you were a mystic. Now I
see you are neither mad, nor a scholar, nor a mystic.”
“Why do you say that?” I demanded.
“If you had been a madman,” she replied, “you
would not have made your ablutions. If you had been
a scholar, you would not have gazed at that which is
prohibited you. If you had been a mystic, your eye
would have fallen upon naught but God. “
So saying, she vanished. I then realized that she was
not a mortal creature, but had been sent as a warning.
A fire invaded my soul, and I flung myself in the direc-
tion of the sea.
When I reached the seashore, I saw a company of
men embarked in a ship. I also embarked in that ship.
After some days had passed, by chance a jewel belong-
ing to a merchant was
lost on board. One by one the passengers were taken
and searched. Finally they reached the unanimous con-
clusion that the jewel was on me. They set about
belabouring me and treated me with great disrespect,
whilst I remained silent. At last I could endure no more.
“O Creator, Thou knowest,” I cried.
Thousands of fishes thereupon put their heads out of
the water, each with a jewel in its mouth.
Dho ‘l-Nun took one of the jewels and gave it to the
merchant. All on board when they saw this fell at his
feet and begged his pardon. So highly was he consid-
ered in the eyes of men. That was why he was called
Dho ‘l-Nun (“The Man of the Fish”).
Dho ‘I-Nun is arrested and taken to Baghdad
When Dho ‘l-Nun had already attained a high degree,
no one recognized his true greatness. The people of
Egypt denounced him unanimously as a heretic, and
informed the caliph Motawakkel of his activities.
Motawakkel sent officers to convey him to Baghdad in
fetters. When he entered the caliph’s court he declared,
“This very hour I have learned true Islam from an old
woman, and true chivalry from a water-carrier.”
“How is that?” he was asked.
“When I reached the caliph’s palace,” he replied,
“and beheld that court in all its magnificence, with the
chamberlains and attendants thronging its passages, I
wished that some change might take place in my
appearance. A woman with a stick in her hand came up
and, looking straight at me, addressed me.
“‘Do not be afraid of the body before whom they are
taking you, for he and you are both servants of one
Almighty Lord. Unless God wills it, they can do noth-
ing to His servant.’
“Then on the road I saw a water-carrier. He gave me
a draught of pure water. I made a sign to one who was
with me to give the man a dinar. He refused to take it.
“‘You are a prisoner and in bonds,’ he said. ‘It would
not be true chivalry to take anything from such a pris-
oner, a stranger in bonds.’ “
After that it was ordered that he should be put in
prison. Forty days and nights he remained in gaol, and
every day the sister of Beshr the Barefoot brought him
a loaf, the earnings of her spindle. The day when he
came out of prison, the forty loaves remained intact,
not one having been eaten. When Beshr’s sister heard of
this, she became very sad.
“You know that those loaves were lawful food and
unsolicited. Why did you not eat them?” she protested.
“Because the plate was not clean,” Dho ‘l-Nun
replied, meaning that it had been handled by the gaol-
er.
As Dho ‘l-Nun came out of the prison he stumbled
and cut his forehead. It is related that much blood
flowed, but not one drop fell on his face, his hair or his
clothes, and all the blood that fell on the ground van-
ished at once, by the command of Almighty God.
Then they brought him before the caliph, and he was
ordered to answer the charges preferred against him.
He explained his doctrine in such a manner that
Motawakkel burst into tears, and all his ministers
stood in wonder at his eloquence. So the caliph became
his disciple, and accorded him high honour.
Dho ‘I-Nan and the pious disciple
There was a disciple of Dho ‘l-Nun who had forty
times observed the forty days’ seclusion, forty times he
had stood at Arafat, and for forty years he had kept
vigil by night. Forty long years he had sat sentinel over
the chamber of his heart. One day he came to Dho ‘l-
Nun.
”I have done all this,” he said. “For all that I have
suffered, the Friend speaks not one word to me nor
favours me with a single glance. He takes no account
of me, and reveals nothing to me from the unseen
world. All this I say not in order to praise myself. I am
simply stating the facts. I have performed all that was
in the power of me, poor wretch, to do. I make no
complaint against God. I simply state the facts, that I
devote my whole heart and soul to His service. But I
am telling the story of the sadness of my evil luck, the
tale of my misfortune. I do not say this because my
heart has grown weary of obedience. Only I fear that if
further life remains ahead of me, it will be the same.
For a whole lifetime I have knocked in hope, but I have
heard no response. Now it is grown hard for me to
endure this any longer. Since you are the physician of
the afflicted and the sovereign prescriber of the sages,
minister now to my wretchedness.”
“Go and eat your fill tonight,” advised Dho ‘l-Nun.
“Omit the prayer before sleep, and slumber the whole
night through. So it may be that if the Friend will not
show Himself kindly, He will at least show Himself
reproachful; if He will not look on you with compas-
sion, He will look on you with sternness.”
The dervish departed and ate his fill. His heart
would not permit him to forgo the prayer before sleep,
and so he prayed the prayer and fell asleep. That night
he saw the Prophet in a dream.
“Your Friend greets you,” the Prophet said. “He
says, ‘An effeminate wretch and no true man is he who
comes to My court and is quickly sated. The root of the
matter is uprightness of life, and no reproaches. God
Almighty declares, I have given your heart its desire of
forty years, and I grant you to attain all that you hope
for, and fulfill all your desire. But convey My greetings
to that bandit and pretender Dho ‘I-Nun. Say then to
him, Pretender and liar, if I do not expose your shame
before all the city, then I am not your Lord. See that
you no more beguile the hapless lovers of My court and
scare them not away from My court.’ “
The disciple awoke, and was overcome by weeping.
He went and told Dho ‘l-Nun what he had seen and
heard. When Dho ‘l-Nun heard the words, “God sends
you greeting and declares you a pretender and a liar”,
he rolled over and over with joy and wept ecstatically.
Anecdotes of Dho ‘l-Nan
Dho ‘l-Nun relates as follows.
I was wandering in the mountains when I observed a
party of afflicted folk gathered together.
“What befell you?” I asked.
“There is a devotee living in a cell here,” they
answered. “Once every year he comes out and breathes
on these people and they are all healed. Then he returns
to his cell, and does not emerge again until the follow-
ing year.”
I waited patiently until he came out. I beheld a man
pale of cheek, wasted and with sunken eyes. The awe
of him caused me to tremble. He looked on the multi-
tude with compassion. Then he raised his eyes to heav-
en, and breathed several times over the afflicted ones.
All were healed.
As he was about to retire to his cell, I seized his skirt.
“For the love of God,” I cried. “You have healed the
outward sickness; pray heal the inward sickness.”
“Dho ‘l-Nun,” he said, gazing at me, “take your
hand from me. The Friend is watching from the zenith
of might and majesty. If He sees you clutching at anoth-
er than He, He will abandon you to that person, and
that person to you, and you will perish each at the
other’s hand.”
So saying, he withdrew into his cell.
One day Dho ‘l-Nun’s companions came to him and
found him weeping.
“Why are you weeping?” they asked.
“Last night when I was prostrating in prayer,” he
replied, “my eyes closed in sleep. I saw the Lord, and
He said to me, ‘O Abu ‘l-Faiz, I created all creatures
and they separated into ten parts. I offered the materi-
al world to them; nine of those ten parts turned their
faces to the material world. One part remained over.
That one part divided also into ten parts. I offered
Paradise to them; nine parts turned their faces to
Paradise. One part remained over. That one part split
likewise into ten parts. I brought Hell before them; all
fled and were scattered for fear of Hell. Only one part
remained over, those who had not been lured by the
material world, nor inclined after Paradise, neither
were afraid of Hell. I said to them, “My servants, you
looked not upon the material world, you inclined not
after Paradise, you were not afraid of Hell. What do
you seek?” All raised their heads and cried, “Thou
knowest best what we desire.”
One day a boy approached Dho ‘l-Nun and said, “I
have a hundred thousand dinars. I want to spend
them in your service. I wish to use that gold on your
dervishes.”
“Are you of age?” Dho ‘l-Nun asked him.
“No,” he replied.
“Then you are not entitled to expend,” Dho ‘l-Nun
told him. “Wait with patience until you are of age.”
When the boy came of age he returned to Dho ‘l-
Nun and repented at his hands. Then he gave all that
gold to the dervishes, until nothing remained of the
hundred thousand dinars.
One day an emergency arose, and nothing remained
to the dervishes, for they had spent all the money.
“What a pity there is not another hundred thousand,
so that I could spend it on these fine men,” said the
benefactor.
When Dho ‘l-Nun heard him speak these words, he
realized that he had not yet penetrated to the inner
truth of the mystic life, for worldly things still seemed
important to him. He summoned the young man.
“Go to the shop of such-and-such a druggist,” he
instructed him. “Tell him from me to give you three
dirhams’ worth of such-and-such a medicine.”
The youth went to the druggist’s, and presently
returned.
“Put the stuff in the mortar and pound it up small,”
Dho ‘l-Nun ordered him. “Then pour on top of it a lit-tle oil, until it becomes a paste. Make three pellets of it,
and pierce each with a needle. Then bring them to me.”
The youth carried out these instructions, and
brought the pellets. Dho ‘l-Nun rubbed them in his
hands and breathed on them, and they turned into
three rubies the like of which was never seen.
“Now take these to the market and have them val-
ued,” ordered Dho ‘l-Nun. “But do not sell them.”
The youth took the rubies to the market and dis-
played them. Each one was priced at a thousand
dinars. He returned and told Dho ‘l-Nun.
“Now put them in the mortar and pound them, and
throw them into water,” the latter directed.
The youth did as instructed, and threw the powder
into water.
“My child,” said Dho ‘l-Nun, “these dervishes are
not hungry for lack of bread. This is their free choice.”
The youth repented, and his soul awoke. The world
had no longer any worth in his eyes.
Dho ‘l-Nun related as follows.
For thirty years I called men to repent, but only one
person came to the court of God in due obedience. The
circumstances were these.
One day a prince with his retinue passed by me by
the door of the mosque. I spoke these words.
“No one is more foolish than the weakling who tan-
gles with the strong.”
“What words are these?” demanded the prince.
“Man is a weakling, yet he tangles with God who is
strong,” I said.
The young prince grew pale. He arose and departed.
Next day he returned.
“What is the way to God?” he asked.
“There is a little way, and there is a greater way,” I
answered. “Which of the two do you want? If you
desire the little way, abandon the world and the lusts of
the flesh and give up sinning. If you want the great way,
abandon everything but God, and empty your heart of
all things.”
“By Allah, I will choose only the greater way,” said
the prince.
The next day he put on the woollen robe, and
entered the mystic way. In due course he became a
saint.
The following story was told by Abu Ja’far the One-
eyed.
I was with Dho ‘l-Nun when a group of his follow-
ers were present. They were telling stories of inanimate
things obeying commands. Now there was a sofa in the
room.
“An example,” said Dho ‘l-Nun, “of inanimate
things obeying saints’ commands would be if I were to
say to that sofa there, ‘Waltz around the house’ and it
started to move.”
No sooner had Dho ‘l-Nun spoken these words than
the sofa started to circle round the house, then it
returned to its place. A youth present burst into tears at
the sight, and gave up the ghost. They washed his body
on that very sofa, and buried him.
Once a man came up to Dho ‘l-Nun and said, “I
have a debt, and I have no means of paying it.”
Dho ‘l-Nun picked up a stone from the ground and
gave it to him. The man took the stone to the bazaar. It
had turned into an emerald. He sold it for four hun-
dred dirhams and paid his debt.
A certain youth was always speaking against Sufis.
One day Dho ‘l-Nun took the ring off his finger and
handed it to him.
“Take this to market and pawn it for a dinar,” he
said.
The young man took the ring to market, but they
would not take it for more than one dirham. The youth
returned with the news.
“Now take it to the jewellers, and see what they
value it at,” Dho ‘l-Nun told him.
The jewellers priced the ring at a thousand dinars.
“You know as much about Sufis,” Dho ‘l-Nun said
to the youth when he returned, “as those stallholders in
the market know about this ring.”
The youth repented, and disbelieved in the Sufis no
more.
Dho ‘l-Nun had been longing for
sekbaj
for ten
years, but he never gratified that longing. Now it was
the eve of festival, and his soul said within him, “How
would it be if tomorrow you gave us a mouthful of
sek-
baj
as a festival treat?”
“Soul,” answered Dho ‘l-Nun, “if you want me to
do that, then consent with me tonight in chanting the
whole Koran in the course of two
rak’as
.”
His soul consented. The next day Dho ‘l-Nun pre-
pared
sekbaj
and set it before his soul. He washed his
fingers and stood in prayer.
“What happened?” he was asked.
“Just now,” Dho ‘l-Nun replied, “my soul said to
me, ‘At last after ten years I have attained my desire.’
‘By God,’ I answered, ‘you shall not attain that desire.’
“
The relater of this story states that Dho ‘l-Nun had
just spoken these words when a man entered and set a
bowl of
sekbaj
before him.
“Master,” he said, “I did not come on my own. I was
sent. Let me explain. I earn my living as a porter, and I
have children. For some time now they have been ask-
ing for
sekbaj
, and I have been saving up. Last night I
made this
sekbaj
for the festival. Today I saw in a
dream the world-adorning beauty of the Messenger of
God. ‘If you would see me on the morrow of uprising,’
said the Prophet, ‘take this to Dho ‘l-Nun and tell him that Mohammad, the son of Abd Allah, the son of Abd
al-Mottaleb, intercedes with him to make truce with
his soul for one moment and swallow a few mouth-
fuls.’ “
“I obey,” said Dho ‘l-Nun, weeping.
As Dho ‘l-Nun lay on his deathbed his friends asked
him, “What do you desire?”
“My desire,” he answered, “is that ere I die, even if
it be for only one moment, I may know Him.”
He then spoke the following verses.
Fear wasted me,
Yearning consumed me,
Love beguiled me,
God revived me.
One day later he lost consciousness. On the night of
his departure from this world, seventy persons saw the
Prophet in a dream. All reported that the Prophet said,
“The friend of God is coming. I have come out to wel-
come him.”
When he died, there was seen written in green on his
brow, “This is the friend of God. He died in the love of
God. This is the slain of God by the sword of God.”
When they lifted his coffin to carry him to the grave
the sun was extremely hot. The birds of the air came
and with wings flapping kept his bier shaded from his
house to the graveside.
As he was being borne along the road, a muezzin
chanted the call to prayer. When he reached the words
of attestation, Dho ‘l-Nun lifted a finger out of the
shroud.
“He is alive!” the shout went up.
They laid down the bier. His finger was pointing, but
he was dead. For all that they tried, they could not
straighten his finger. When the people of Egypt beheld
this, they were all put to shame and repented of the
wrongs they had done him. They did things over his
dust that cannot be described in words.

Source : Sufism.ir