Rumi

Perhaps you've heard of Rumi?

Rumi was a 13th century Persian poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian, and Sufi mystic.

Maybe you've read some of his poetry?  Or read some quotes attributed to him, such as:

"Stop acting so small.

You are the universe in ecstatic motion."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What you seek is seeking you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yesterday I was clever,

so I wanted to change the world.

Today I am wise,

so I am changing myself."

Some nice stuff.  But then, one day I was reading through a book I had picked up from somewhere long forgotten called "The Essential Rumi: Translations by Coleman Barks with John Moyne."

I was particularly struck by one story I read called, "The Importance of Gourdcrafting."  I shall transcribe it for you.

The Importance of Gourdcrafting

There was a maidservant

who had cleverly trained a donkey

to perform the services of a man.

From a gourd,

she had carved a flanged device

to fit on the donkey's penis

to keep him going too far into her.

She had fashioned it just to the point

of her pleasure, and she greatly enjoyed

the arrangement, as often as she could!

She thrived, but the donkey was getting

a little thin and tired looking.

The mistress began to investigate. One day

she peeked through a crack in the door

and saw the animal's marvelous member

and the delight of the girl

stretched under the donkey.

She said nothing. Later, she knocked on the door

and called the maid out on an errand,

a long and complicated errand.

I won't go into details.

The servant knew what was happening, though.

"Ah, my mistress," she thought to herself,

"you should not send away the expert.

When you begin to work without full knowledge,

you risk your life. Your shame keeps you

from asking me about the gourd, but you must

have that to join with this donkey.

There's a trick you don't know!"

But the woman was too fascinated with her idea

to consider any danger. She let the donkey in

and closed the door, thinking, "With no one around

I can shout in my pleasure."

She was dizzy

with anticipation, her vagina glowing

and singing like a nightingale.

She arranged the chair under the donkey,

as she had seen the girl do. She raised her legs

and pulled him into her.

Her fire kindled more,

and the donkey politely pushed as she urged him to,

pushed through and into her intestines,

and, without a word, she died.

The chair fell one way,

and she the other.

The room was smeared with blood.

Reader, have you ever seen anyone martyred

for a donkey? Remember what the Qur'an

says about the torment of disgracing yourself.

Don't sacrifice your life to your animal-soul!

If you die of what that leads you to do,

you are just like this woman on the floor.

She is an image of immoderation.

Remember her,

and keep your balance.

The maidservant returns and says, "Yes, you saw

my pleasure, but you didn't see the gourd

that put a limit on it. You opened 

your shop before a master

taught you the craft."

OK, then.  Now, isn't that special?

I'm sure not all Muslims enjoy fucking donkeys.

Just like not all hillbilly farmers enjoy fucking farm animals. It's just a thing they do.

It's apparently universal.  Bravo, Rumi, for speaking the truth, so many years ago, and turning it into a parable that can live forever.