religion

What Secrets Does the Reed Flute's Lament Reveal?

The Reed Flute's Tale: A Melody of Longing and Wisdom

What Secrets Does the Reed Flute's Lament Reveal?

Have you ever heard the haunting tune of a reed flute? It’s like a cry of longing. Since I was cut from the reed bed, my music has been filled with sorrow that moves both men and women. I crave a heart that knows the depth of longing, so I can share the pain of love. We all yearn to return to our source once separated.

At every gathering, my melodies share my mournful tale. I’m a friend to the joyful and the sorrowful, but everyone is drawn to me for their reasons, never really seeking the secrets I hold. My lament and my secret are one and the same; it’s not something just anyone can understand. The body and the soul are connected and yet hidden from each other; only the fire of love can bring clarity, the fire that makes the flute sing and keeps us alive.

The reed is a solace for all who feel estranged from their true love. Its music strips away illusions and speaks of passionate tales, like the love of Majnoon. These aren’t stories for the unfeeling; only the wise can grasp their sense. Despite the seasons filled with grief, if few days remain, let them pass. What matters is the essence of love and purity that stays.

People often miss the depth of the wise. Just like a jug can only hold so much water, greed never finds contentment. True freedom comes by breaking away from material bonds. Only those embraced by love find true liberty and lack defects or desires. Love is a healer, lifting us above our petty pride and vanity. Even mountains can dance with joy when touched by love, as Mount Sinai did when Moses experienced the divine.

Without someone to share our language, even if I have countless songs, I remain silent. When the beloved departs, so too does the song of the nightingale. The lover and the beloved are one, yet without the beloved’s guiding light, the lover flounders like a wingless bird. To be truly awake and aware, we need the beloved’s light.

Love insists on bringing forth the words reflecting our innermost states. If you find a heart’s mirror clear of rust, you’ll understand these tales. So listen closely, friends, to the story told by the reed flute.



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