Esoteric...Language of Birds!

In mythology, medieval literature and occultism, the language of the birds is postulated as a mystical, perfect divine language, green language, adamic language, enochian language, angelic language or a mythical or magical language used by birds to communicate with the initiated.

AlchemyIn Kabbalah, Renaissance magic, and alchemy, the language of the birds was considered a secret and perfect language and the key to perfect knowledge, sometimes also called the langue verte, or green language (Jean Julien Fulcanelli, Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa de occulta philosophia).

The Conference of the Birds (Persian: منطق الطیر‎, Mantiqu 't-Tayr, 1177) is a book of poems in Persian by Farid ud-Din Attar of approximately 4500 lines.

In the poem, the birds of the world gather to decide who is to be their king, as they have none. The hoopoe, the wisest of them all, suggests that they should find the legendary Simorgh, a mythical persian bird roughly equivalent to the western phoenix. The hoopoe leads the birds, each of whom represent a human fault which prevents man from attaining enlightenment. When the group of thirty birds finally reach the dwelling place of the Simorgh, all they find is a lake in which they see their own reflection.

Besides being one of the most celebrated examples of Persian poetry, this book relies on a clever word play between the words Simorgh – a mysterious bird in Iranian mythology which is a symbol often found in sufi literature, and similar to the phoenix bird – and "si morgh" – meaning "thirty birds" in Persian.

It was in China, late one moonless night,
The Simorgh first appeared to mortal sight –
He let a feather float down through the air,
And rumours of its fame spread everywhere; [1]
Its most famous section is:

Come you lost Atoms to your Centre draw,
And be the Eternal Mirror that you saw:
Rays that have wander'd into Darkness wide
Return and back into your Sun subside

The story recounts the longing of a group of birds who desire to know the great Simorgh, and who, under the guidance of a leader bird, start their journey toward the land of Simorgh. One by one, they drop out of the journey, each offering an excuse and unable to endure the journey. Each bird has a special significance, and a corresponding didactic fault. The guiding bird is the hoopoe, while the nightingale symbolizes the lover. The parrot is seeking the fountain of immortality, not God and the peacock symbolizes the "fallen soul" who is in alliance with Satan.

The birds must cross seven valleys in order to find the Simorgh: Talab (Yearning), Eshq (Love), Marifat (Gnosis), Istighnah (Detachment), Tawheed (Unity of God), Hayrat (Bewilderment) and, finally, Fuqur and Fana (Selflessness and Oblivion in God). These represent the stations that a Sufi or any individual must pass through to realize the true nature of God.

Within the larger context of the story of the journey of the birds, Attar masterfully tells the reader many didactic short, sweet stories in captivating poetic style. Eventually only thirty birds remain as they finally arrive in the land of Simorgh – all they see there are each other and the reflection of the thirty birds in a lake – not the mythical Simorgh. It is the Sufi doctrine that God is not external or separate from the universe, rather is the totality of existence. The thirty birds seeking the Simorgh realise that Simorgh is nothing more than their transcendent totality. The idea of God within is an idea intrinsic to most interpretations of Sufism. As the birds realize the truth, they now reach the station of Baqa (Subsistence) which sits atop the Mountain Qaf.

I find Sufi doctrine very interesting. In particular the Whirling Dervishes and the Trickster or clown way. There have been some posts in this Forum in the not to distant past on Some of the Sufi way. Have you seen them?

It is interesting you speak of birds having a language. I believe this to be true. Corvus, Crows, Ravens,and Starlings roost in groups at night, I think they tell stories before bed.

Originally posted by Iamschist
I find Sufi doctrine very interesting. In particular the Whirling Dervishes and the Trickster or clown way. There have been some posts in this Forum in the not to distant past on Some of the Sufi way. Have you seen them?

It is interesting you speak of birds having a language. I believe this to be true. Corvus, Crows, Ravens,and Starlings roost in groups at night, I think they tell stories before bed.

v
Corvus, crows, ravens and starlings roost in a group at night, I think they tell stories before bed...Very good for this

According to mythology The language of the birds was also how King Solomon spoke with and controlled nature. It was through the original language he communicated with all creatures and could control the winds and seas, etc.

reply to post by suntzewang


Very good information...and fits into the whole Egyptian idea about the Language of the Birds...there is a connection...of that I'm sure!

The birds chirp when I think, A thought of mine so daringly fused with the spirituality of freedom. A longing lost to feel that place called "home" again, although it dwells with me in the knowing of peace and prosperity for the future and love for now, connecting us all, wherever I go.

At my slave outpost, in the backroom where the fruit is (I work in produce at a city market) there are so many birds perceptible from the rooftop, but only can I hear them so few times within the many that I am mindlessly on autopilot back there doing the best I can to show I'm the most hard-working in the company. Yes, we've been falsely regarded as rivals in the pursuit of trivial wealth, that is the curse of corporatism.

When I think of how to free another I see one, or even two fly above me on the horizon, and when another thought occurs it is the SOUND of birds chirping that comes into my reality.

What wonderful creatures they are, and in all the lore they soar as the eagle, or flap as the penguin.

hehe ;D

reply to post by FinalAccount2008


Very nice! I cannot tell if it is a story, poetry or both!

Originally posted by blazenresearcher
reply to post by FinalAccount2008

 

Very nice! I cannot tell if it is a story, poetry or both!

haha thanks it was both, I've stayed aware the last couple months of what it is i'm thinking when a bird flies into my view, and it's usually alot higher a thought-form than when a nat does, somewhere in between I see a fly.

manhood thoughts bring about barking dogs.

I truly feel as though every single moment our free will achieves us into was and is brought about with perfect reason and synchronicity.

This wormhole is deeeeep brother. Would you post some meaningful pieces of the literature you're showing us so we can have some talking points? I don't feel like reading the entirety right now but I do wanna come back and see more of it.

Human cop-out over

Once when I was younger, I stayed for a week at a small hotel in an almost-as-small town in northern California. The day in question had been warmer than was comfortable (low 80s and humid, about as hot as it gets in that area) so I cracked the window to allow the breeze from Humboldt Bay to maintain an acceptable temperature in the room, and I lay down for a nap.

Outside my room, there was a well-manicured tree, filled up with chickadees, and they were chirping uproariously, which I found rather peaceful and an enjoyable sound to fall asleep to. I focused on it as I slipped down into sleep, and at that midway point between consciousness and sleep, something very curious happened.

I suddenly understood what they were saying to each other. It is one of my favorite magical pagany experiences to this day, but it had a twist. The birds weren't saying nice things, or conversing about the weather, or singing their praises to the Great Spirit, no, none of that...

They were playing the dozens.

It wasn't like they were speaking English, they were still definitely speaking bird, and most of it deserves no translation anyway, but apparently the cloacal tightness of their mothers is a subject of great insult amongst chickadees. Every birdly insult made the crowd of onlooking birds spur the opponent to one-up the other. They were certainly having a good time. I'd have listened in more, but by that point my laughter dragged me back to full wakefulness.

To this day, every time I hear a flock of chickadees chirping at each other in a tree like they were that day, I give them more than a wry glance.

Originally posted by nithaiah
Once when I was younger, I stayed for a week at a small hotel in an almost-as-small town in northern California. The day in question had been warmer than was comfortable (low 80s and humid, about as hot as it gets in that area) so I cracked the window to allow the breeze from Humboldt Bay to maintain an acceptable temperature in the room, and I lay down for a nap.

Outside my room, there was a well-manicured tree, filled up with chickadees, and they were chirping uproariously, which I found rather peaceful and an enjoyable sound to fall asleep to. I focused on it as I slipped down into sleep, and at that midway point between consciousness and sleep, something very curious happened.

I suddenly understood what they were saying to each other. It is one of my favorite magical pagany experiences to this day, but it had a twist. The birds weren't saying nice things, or conversing about the weather, or singing their praises to the Great Spirit, no, none of that...

They were playing the dozens.

It wasn't like they were speaking English, they were still definitely speaking bird, and most of it deserves no translation anyway, but apparently the cloacal tightness of their mothers is a subject of great insult amongst chickadees. Every birdly insult made the crowd of onlooking birds spur the opponent to one-up the other. They were certainly having a good time. I'd have listened in more, but by that point my laughter dragged me back to full wakefulness.

To this day, every time I hear a flock of chickadees chirping at each other in a tree like they were that day, I give them more than a wry glance.

Wow...

you don't truth the telling you're think I believe you?

I just recently watched the movie "The Librarian" with Noah Wylie, one of his first missions as THE LIBRARIAN is to decipher the language of the birds. How timely.....too bad it's only a movie or we could find out how to speak it also

reply to post by FinalAccount2008


I don't care either way.

I don't know about birds having their own language, but some birds certainly have the capacity to learn our language and USE it.

I used to breed parrots and had several as pets. Not only could I tell you a dozen or more stories of how my birds used English to communicate with me deliberately, I had two pairs of birds (a pair of African Greys and a pair of Quakers) who began using English to communicate with each other.

I also rescued birds, and I'll tell you one brief story. I had a severely abused, neglected African Grey who had finally calmed down enough to be let out of his cage, but first he would have to have his wings trimmed. I walked up to the cage with towel and scissors in hand and said "Let's trim your wings so you can spend some time outside that cage." He replied "Oh, no you DON'T!" After stopping to laugh, I trimmed his wings anyway, but I had him for several years after that and he never once repeated that phrase (that I heard), so it wasn't just part of a "repertoire."

reply to post by nithaiah


LOL good I was trying my hand at writing something backwards, but i'm not much of a wizard...

super entertaining and crazy story though, it kinda made me wanna start waking up before sunrise to hear the birds.
I always figured there was more to their lingo than simple mating calls.

The language of the birds appear to be telepathy. This is the Esoteric language that will allow humans to communicate with other beings, through pictures and emotion (being sent and received from one being to another).

reply to post by arpgme


Agreewholeheartedly. All this was put in front of us right when we will need it. Each day ;D