Few can tell a love story like Jelaluddin Rumi can. In one of his stories, the Caliph of Egypt learns about the incomparable beauty of a concubine of the King of Mosul.[1] Already in love, he sends his captain with an army of thousands to fetch him the woman. Besieged, the King surrenders his concubine to the captain lest he loses his city, too. As soon as the captain sees the woman, he is as smitten as the Caliph before him. “Don’t laugh at this,” says Rumi. “This loving is also part of infinite love, without which the world does not evolve.” The captain loses all control. Defying death, he camps in a secluded meadow instead of going straight to the Caliph. “Blazing, he can’t tell the earth from the sky.” Just as he tears off the woman’s clothing and lies down between her legs, his penis about to enter her, a great tumult arises in the camp. “He leaps out with his bare bottom shining and runs out, scimitar in hand.” A lion has gotten in among the horses. “Chaos,” says Rumi. The captain runs to the lion, splits its head with one blow, and runs back to the woman’s tent, his penis standing straight up all the while. When he stretches her out again in all her beauty, his penis gets even stiffer. Amazed at his energy, the beautiful one joins him in equal measure. “Their two spirits go out from them as one,” says Rumi. The story ends well, too. Unable to make love to her, the Caliph marries the woman to the captain once he learns about their love. “This is the virility of the prophet,” says Rumi.

Footnote

1. Mathnawi in The Essential Rumi, Coleman Barks with John Moyne, translators, Edison, New Jersey: Castle Books, 1995, pp. 55-61.