Poetry, Got something? ...Shtick it here..
Feb 12 2007, 12:32 PM
Group: Valued Member
Joined: 3-February 07
Member No.: 551
Hope you enjoy this...
Und nun, liebe kinder, gebt fein acht:
Die wahrheit wird zu sand gemacht!
...Den streut man jenen in die Augen
die niemals fragen- alles glauben...
Die volle wahrheit zu ertragen
steht jenen an die Fragen fragen-
Nur dem der sie zu stellen wagt:
Und Gott hilf dem der Fragen fragt!
(My children- come and see this land
were truth has long since turned to sand
which wind will blow into the eyes
of those who never question lies...
The truth to bear is for those men
who dare to question- and who then
make asking their most pressing task:
And God help those who dare to ask...)
All material marked "W. J. B" is my own; anyone wanting to make use of this- feel free to do so (except commercial use, that is); just don't remove the "W.J.B", please. -Devilsadvocate-
This post has been edited by Devilsadvocate: Oct 6 2007, 11:36 AM
Mar 20 2007, 10:49 PM
Group: Valued Member
Joined: 3-February 07
Member No.: 551
This is not a poem, but a story- one which should be known, one which *must* be known.
It concerns a man called Hassan al Sabbah.
Hassan lived around the time of Sultan Saladin and Richard the Lionheart, in what is now Iran. He was the leader of a sect, which was hated and despised throughout the Islamic world, and beyond it.
Above all, he was universally feared.
Hassan al Sabbah was an Imam- a religious teacher; as such, he received respect wherever he went. As was the custom, he would travel around; the hospitality of the communities he visited would always be a certainty.
One of the places he visited was a fortress in the mountains called 'Al Alamut'. As had always been the case before, Hassan was received with the reverence due to a scholar, and was allowed to stay for as long as he wanted as an honoured guest.
Weeks passed, months- and the Lord of Alamut became painfully aware that not all was as it was supposed to. His servants began whispering behind his back, and eventually no longer followed his commands.
Then, one day, he was confronted by Hassan- who told him in not so many words to pack his things and leave...If he valued his life.
Hassan gave him a piece of paper with his signature on it, telling him that the Governor of Khorasan would reimburse him with 5000 Dinar towards the material value of his fortress.
He thought this was a joke- why would the Governor of Khorasan even bother, on the words of a nobody like Hassan?
But to his surprise, the Governor paid without any qualms- and he kissed Hassan's signature into the bargain...
Not long after, the climate in Al Alamut changed drastically. Young men began to arrive- disciples of Hassan, who would undergo a highly intensive training:
They would study languages, the Q'uran, the Talmut, the Bible. They would learn about the customs of other countries, and be trained in the use of weapons.
Above all, they would learn unquestioning obediance to their master, Hassan.
The latter had one secret in particular which he knew to use to his advantage.
At some point during their training, the young disciples would have to spend some time in a cell, without food and with little water. They would be given something else instead: Hashish. Hassan was one of very few people at that time, and in that place, who knew what Hashish was and what it does.
Once the disciple had passed out, he would be transferred from his cell to the Castle-gardens. There were no windows anywhere in the buildings overlooking the gardens, and the only key was kept by a gatekeeper.
The gardens were in stark contrast to the surrounding forbidding landscape, with trees, flowers, and a fountain. Instead of water, there was wine coming out of it; and the awakening disciple would be treated to music and beautiful dancing-girls.
There would also be more Hashish, and eventually he would pass out again, only to awaken back in his cell.
He would be told that what he had experienced was a vision of heaven...
...And that master Hassan would know the way back to heaven.
All that was required was to follow the master's instructions without questioning.
Some say that it was this practise of consuming Hashish which gave them the name they became known by: Hashish-eaters, or 'Hassassin': Assassin.
Once their training was complete, fear descended unto the valleys surrounding Al Alamut: Imams murdered in their beds, village-headmen stabbed to death in the middle of the road.
Hassan's power began to grow. Some nobles began to see him as a threat, and they decided to do something about him.
Their leader awoke one morning and found a dagger stuck into the ground beside his bed in his tent. A piece of paper was wrapped around the hilt with a message from Hassan:"If it had been my will, this dagger would now be stuck in your chest".
Eventually they arrived at Alamut; as Hassan approached them, a herold told them to bow "...before him who holds the death of kings in his hands".
When they chose to be arrogant in his presence, Hassan gave a signal. The ramparts were filling with warriors. At another signal, one of them would jump off the ramparts into a ravine, to his death. Another signal, and another warrior drew his sword and cut his own throat.
Hassan pointed at his warriors, and said "I have got 12000 more. How many have you got?"
The nobles thought it wiser to sign an agreement with Hassan.
Then Sultan Saladin appeared on the scene, sweeping the crusaders before him.
To him, Hassan was in the way of unity within the Islamic world: Hassan had to go.
Sultan Saladin began to march on Alamut- until one day, he was attacked by his own bodyguards and had to defend himself, sword in hand. At the end, fifty of his trusted bodyguards lay dead- all of them Fidai (disciples of Hassan).
Not even Sultan Saladin could fight the crusaders on one side, and worry about Hassan's disciples of hell at the same time. Saladin gave in and left Hassan alone.
When the Frankish knights entered Damascus, they were attacked by a group of Assassin- their leader died in the attack. In response, they slaughtered the entire population of Damascus. But those people were Sunni- the Assassin were Shiites.
It did not matter to the crusaders.
Sinewy posted a poem by Omar Khayyam: Omar knew Hassan personally; they had shared the same teacher- Nizam Ul Mulq.
Nizam, who was described as a very wise and kind man, also died at the hands of a Fidai.
Assassin turned up in London, in Paris, in Cologne. Hassan's fame spread beyond the boundaries of the Islamic world. But by now, it was just thuggery- Hassan's successor was made of a different material, namely greed.
An Arabic historian by the name of Al Juvaini described the moment of Hassan's death. The old man, by then almost toothless, sat bolt-upright in bed, pointing at something which was not quite there, and proclaimed the secret of his success:
"...There is no such thing as truth...Everything is allowed!!!"
He then, in Juvaini's words, "...crawled back to the hell from whence he had emerged..."
This was the end of the 'Old man of the mountain', as he was known...
Some people seem to believe that he is back from the dead.
This is what Al Qaeda is supposed to be modelled on.
There is but one problem with that:
The Assassin were *NEVER* seen as any kind of rolemodel anywhere in the Islamic world, and were regarded as a heretical sect by both Sunni and Shiites...
This post has been edited by Devilsadvocate: Mar 20 2007, 11:50 PM
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