O brother, don’t hurt yourself.
Don’t hit your head against the stones.
You cannot fight with that burned, inflamed self.
If you spit at the moon, your saliva will land on your face.
If you pull on His shirt, your dress will get shorter.
Lots of immature ones before you
have also boiled, overflowed, fought and struggled
in the kettle of this world.
But, they all gave up in the end, finding nothing but contention.
One porcupine grabbed the tail of a snake,
then curled itself up into a ball
That stupid snake started throwing itself from one spike to another,
becoming riddled with holes.
That impatient snake, without knowing the game, killed itself.
If it had waited awhile, it might have been saved.
Pull yourself together.
Don’t throw yourself on the spikes of every porcupine of trouble.
Relax when you have accidents.
Say to yourself, “Even the airspace will shrink.”
The Creator of all universes said,
“I am with the One who has patience.”
O One who remains always with patience, pour patience on our head.
Give us patience.
I’ve gone to another valley.
You tell the rest of it.
Give our greetings to the Patient One
again and again and again.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, Terci Bend, verses 470-478, pages 91-92.