Look After Your Donkey

A Poem...

...And a parable appropriate to our times.

By:

Kit Cain
www.kitcain.com

Introduction
The following bit of poetry-converted-to-prose caught my attention via a poem called After The Meditation written by twelfth century Sufi poet Jalal ad dinl Rumi and interpreted by Coleman Barks in his book: The Essential Rumi (p.71), in which a certain Sufi businessman, stopping at an Inn and settling down for a delicious meal after a long days journey, suddenly remembers his donkey which has carried him all day. He calls to the stable servant and urges him to give loving care to the donkey, currying his fur, moistening his oats, putting down fresh bedding, and so on. The servant very selfimportantly and resentfully assures the Sufi that he himself is perfectly capable of knowing the donkeys needs .... and stalks off in a huff.

No sooner does the Sufi retire and fall asleep than he begins to have nightmares about his donkey. The next morning his dreams prove to be correct. The poor donkey has been totally neglected for the entire night. The moral of Rumi's story is this: "Look after your donkey yourself. No-one can show appreciation for his worth as much as the one he lives for".

Rumis poem was, I felt, a little wordy, so I took his basic idea and used the "donkey experience" as an analogy to a businessman who has employees who do his heavy work for him. So often in today's world, those who should be encouraging, inspiring, and financially unselfish as corporate owners and leaders are lost in their own competition for more reward, more power, more importance more of everything with the result that there is no focus on the realization that they are riding on the backs of those beneath them who carry the main proportion of the business load. Rumis poetry was originally written in Arabic as rhyming couplets. The translation, in order to remain as faithful as possible to Rumis intended meaning, lacks the rhyme and rhythm that is to me so meaningful to true poetry. Would that I could hear Rumi speak his poetic rhyming couplets in English....despite Coleman Barks' excellent translation.

Because what is today labeled "poetry" is to me a flow of broken up sentences with neither rhyme nor rhythm and even less profundity or parabolical nature I decided to use this particular instance to illustrate the difference between what I consider to be Prose and Poetry by writing the storyline first as prose (albeit with a poetic form and overtone) and then writing another version in what feels to me to be more like "real" poetry. Even though it is still not perfect in that the pattern of rhyming varies slightly between the verses, nevertheless I would hope one can feel the difference for one's self.

Look After Your Donkey

Prose Version by Cain Look after your donkey; he does your hard work. It is he who carries your load. Money he does not understand. Give him what he understands... ....like fresh hay ....and clean water. Soak his oats in a bit of water. Mix them with a touch of molasses. You know what his body needs far better than he. You know what tastes good and what he likes. Comb his fur. Wash from it the days sweat and dirt. Speak soft and kind words of gratitude to him after he has worked so hard... but not too much of any one thing lest he overvalue his worth. This effort on your part is but a short hour. The longer hours are for you; then your hard work is done for you .....with gratitude.

Comment by Cain: The above is what poor poetry and poor prose look and feel like. For comparative purposes only!

Look After Your Donkey

Poetic Version by Cain Look after your donkey whos a lesser friend; the one who carries your load. Be deeply aware of the need to attend to his needs and his humble abode. Neither fame, wisdom, power, or even gold does he ask for his daily bread, but a kind word or two as companions would do and a scratch or a pat on the head. Fresh hay and clean water as his weary day ends. And sweeten with treacle his grains. You know what restores what he daily expends what he likes and what purges his pains. Then wash from his fur the sweat and the dust. Curry his hair with a comb. Speak soothing words that kindle his trust so he feels he is once again Home. The effort on your part is but a short hour; the rest of the day is for you. Companions you are in the wise use of power and gratitude for you two is your due.

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