Those of us who live in this world There is no need to mourn, for I am with you. Come, let my robe Give me a cup of wine and change it.
First
Does the poet dream or does he capture the essence? Is it a gift that combines intuition and essence? Even today there is no answer. The biblical ‘psalms’ are praise and prayer to God. In modern times, poetry has become known as romance. There is a general perception that poems are written for loved ones, poems to express existence, poems of impermanence, and poems are the voice of the heart. Please note when reading this article that I do not fully understand Islam. I will end this article with my impressions of the film.
Second
Don’t take God’s name in vain’ in the Old Testament, but in the Muslim world Farewell to khodā hāfez (May God bless and save you) and God is said to be present in the details of the greeting and the words of the name. This is reminiscent of the story of the importation of mirrors into the Muslim world, which arrived broken. This mirror would have become the architecture of the mosque and would have given the poet an intuition.
Early in the story.
Truth is a thing called a mirror. It falls from heaven to earth and breaks. People pick up the shards and think. We have the truth.
He who saw himself in the mirror was lost and sinned, but he who saw his friend in the mirror knew love.This leads to a story that is like a poetic image of the poem that comes out as.
Hafez is the name of a poet from whom it derives, a chosen reciter in the Muslim world. The word ‘voice’ has also been used since ancient times to guide, confuse and move people, as in Greek mythology, where the goddess Kalliope presides over lyric poetry, while the sirens confuse sailors.
Shamseddin, a young man who wanted to be a Hafez (reciter), studied the Koran and astrology (the lawful one) from the age of six, and because of his talent for poetry, he also recited poems criticising the clergy, which made his teacher angry. However, his efforts were rewarded with the title of Hafez. He was assigned to teach the daughter of a famous religious (Kumiko Aso), Nabat, but was afraid to let her voice make waves in his heart.The 14th century poet Hafez is said to have fallen in love with the same woman, Nabat. This story also overlaps with this anecdote. When his daughter Nabat asks him about poetry, the young man mentions the name of the poet Sa’adi and answers with something other than the Koran. There is only one wall between them, but they make eye contact. The guard’s maid tells him about it, and he is stripped of his Hafez title, sentenced to 50 lashes and thrown out.
Her daughter was forced to marry someone else, but she became ill, as if her soul had been drained. A boy (a medium) said that what he could see of her was ‘fire’, so her husband had to go to the job of the man who had been thrown out. This was because the job was associated with ‘fire’. The man was only allowed to work for less than a prostitute, but the husband would go to him and get a word from him. The daughter was restored by the man’s words, so the father, the great master, decided to forgive him, but he gave him a condition. He gave her a mirror and asked her to wipe it with virgins from the seven villages.
Failure to do so was punishable by death.
The woman the man loved was already married, so there was no way Islam would allow them to love each other. The mirror was for love, but this journey was for forgetting love.
Was this irony on the part of the Grand Master, or did he leave it to God? Perhaps the beginning was harassment. For the man’s reputation had been heard in those seven villages and he had called on all the virgins not to cooperate.
Nevertheless, a maiden wiped the mirror and wished for rain. Normally the maiden would have been punished for not keeping her word, but since it rained, the village was forced to believe it was the power of the gods.
While the man became famous as a Prophet, the husband pursued Shamseddin . He asks who the mirror belonged to, but learns that the man had left it in one of the villages. The man takes the mirror instead and tells him to believe in Shamseddin’s power, but is arrested for forging the prophecy. Only a guard told him to believe in Shamseddin’s prophecy, so the husband gave the mirror to the man. Instead, the man begins to carry the mirror around with him, and by chance Shamseddin finds it again.
When Shamseddin asks for the mirror, he is told that he can sell it to him in exchange for his hair. To get his mirror back, Shamseddin cuts off his hair. He then went looking for virgin’s maiden again, but met an elderly woman who was a virgin. The old woman and the man must marry, but the woman dies before they can say their vows.
Shamseddin becomes desperate when there are no candidates for the last virgin to wipe the mirror. Behind his back, unknown to him, the woman he had once loved was a virgin. It seemed that the man had done this for his wife. It was perhaps an emotion that should not be expressed in Islam, a self-judged ‘charity’ not limited to the commandments, and the husband had it. The husband was trying to help his wife, who was like a lover to him. The husband went looking for the man, but in the end he probably died. The husband ran away and went mad, and the wife wiped the mirror for the last time as a virgin. That was with the words that Hafez had left her.
Last
On the subject of ‘sanctification’, I did not write an entry for Islam on Wikipedia(Japanese page). Of course, I was warned that it would be an incomplete and useless page, but I decided I had no choice. I was reluctant to include a slightly translated version. The sacred language over there is not easy to speak. This may be what it means to understand the sacred. Among Sufis, ‘God sanctifies his secrets’ (‘qaddasa Llahou Sirruhu’), which is a way of saying that the saint is neither living nor dead. However, it is probably impossible to speak simply of a ‘saint’ when the religion is so strict in its works. Selected poets and reciters can talk about ‘love’, but basically Islam cannot talk freely about human love and God. Films made in this context cannot be about love, nor can they be metaphorical in their explanation. I think the film was well made despite the strict restrictions. Can we say that the tortuous journey of the protagonist’s husband was rewarded? The metaphor of ‘sanctification’ was an area that could not be explained in words. What we have in common as religious people is that, like Job and the Buddha, we understand ‘suffering’ as ‘Canonisation’. As Japanese, we know from our skin that life is ‘impermanent’, so we will understand if we see this as a symbol of the story.
Nevertheless, there was something about the lives of the men and women that appealed to us in their inability to violate their precepts. If the story itself had life as a phenomenon, it would be that we could return to the poem at the beginning, “He who has seen his friend in the mirror has known love”, and that the man’s anguish has been sanctified as a divine secret. It was a love that could not be called love, that was a recognition of love, and people may also have had that desire.
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