Allspirit

Category: Rumi

  • My Heart

    From Rumi: The Hidden Music

    by Maryam Mafi & Azima Melita Kolin

    My heart, sit only with those
    who know and understand you.
    Sit only under a tree
    that is full of blossoms.
    In the bazaar of herbs and potions
    don’t wander aimlessly
    find the shop with a potion that is sweet
    If you don’t have a measure
    people will rob you in no time.
    You will take counterfeit coins
    thinking they are real.
    Don’t fill your bowl with food from
    every boiling pot you see.
    Not every joke is humorous, so don’t search
    for meaning where there isn’t one.
    Not every eye can see,
    not every sea is full of pearls.
    My heart, sing the song of longing
    like nightingale.
    The sound of your voice casts a spell
    on every stone, on every thorn.
    First, lay down your head
    then one by one
    let go of all distractions.
    Embrace the light and let it guide you
    beyond the winds of desire.
    There you will find a spring and nourished by its see waters
    like a tree you will bear fruit forever.

    ‘Rumi: The Hidden Music’
    by Maryam Mafi & Azima Melita Kolin

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  • I Have Come

    From Hush – Don’t Say Anything to God – Passionate Poems of Rumi

    by Shahram Shiva

    I have come
    to pull you by your ear,
    and bring you to myself.
    I will make you selfless,
    I will make you fearless,
    then I will place you in the
    heart and the soul of the king of Souls.
    I have come like a breeze of Spring
    to you, oh, field of flowers,
    so I can keep you by my side,
    and hold you tight.
    I have come to shine on you,
    as you walk this path.
    Like the prayer of lovers,
    I will help you reach the
    roof of the heavens.

    I have come to take back that kiss
    that you stole from me.
    You are my catch, my game,
    my prey, my hunt.
    You have escaped my trap so far,
    Run, run, or I will chase you there.
    Remember what the lion said to the deer.
    “You are so beautiful,
    you are so lovely
    run in front of me,
    so I can catch you
    and tear you to pieces.”
    Be like the deer, accept the wounds
    like a shield of a warrior.
    Don’t listen to anything
    but the whooshing of the arrows heading
    toward you.
    From the dust of the Earth to a human being
    there are a thousand steps
    I have been with you through these steps,
    I have held your hand and walked by your side.
    You may think that I have left you
    on the side of the road.
    Don’t complain,
    don’t become mad,
    and don’t open the lid of the pot.
    Boil happily and be patient.
    Remember what you are being prepared for.
    You are a lion’s cub,
    hidden inside a deer’s body,
    with one strike I will wipe that illusion
    and rid you of it.
    You are my ball, and you roll because
    of the strike of my polo mallet.
    Just remember,
    it is me who is chasing you
    even though it is me who is helping you run.

    http://www.rumi.net/

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  • Water Flows

    From: Rumi – Hidden Music

    Translated by Maryam Mafi

    When you plant a tree
    every leaf that grows will tell you,
    what you sow will bear fruit.
    So if you have any sense, my friend
    don’t plant anything but love,
    you show your worth by what you seek.
    Water flows to those who want purity
    wash your hands of all desires and
    come to the table of Love.

    Do you want me to tell you a secret?
    The flowers attract the most beautiful lover
    with their sweet smile and scent.
    If you let God weave the verse in your poem
    people will read it forever.

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  • A Zero-Circle

    By Rumi

    Be helpless and dumbfounded,
    unable to say yes or no.
    Then a stretcher will come
    from grace to gather us up.

    We are too dulleyed to see the beauty.
    If we say Yes we can we’ll be lying.

    If we say No, we don’t see it,
    that No will behead us
    and shut tight the window into spirit.

    So let us not be sure of anything,
    beside ourselves, and only that, so
    miraculous beings come running to help.

    Crazed, lying in a zero-circle, mute,
    we will be saying finally,
    with tremendous eloquence, Lead us.

    When we’ve totally surrendered to that beauty,
    we’ll become a mighty kindness.

     

    From Say I am You
    Poetry Interspersed with Stories of Rumi and Shams
    Translated by John Moyne and Coleman Barks

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  • You Worry Too Much

    By Rumi

    Oh soul,
    you worry too much.
    You say,
    I make you feel dizzy.
    Of a little headache then,
    why do you worry?
    You say, I am your antelope.
    Of seeing a lion here and there
    why do you worry?
    Oh soul,
    you worry too much.
    You say, I am your moon-faced beauty.
    Of the cycles of the moon and
    passing of the years,
    why do you worry?
    You say, I am your source of passion,
    I excite you.
    Of playing into the Devils hand,
    why do you worry?
    Oh soul,
    you worry too much.
    Look at yourself,
    what you have become.
    You are now a field of sugar canes,
    why show that sour face to me?
    You have tamed the
    winged horse of Love.
    Of a death of a donkey,
    why do you worry?
    You say that I keep you warm inside.
    Then why this cold sigh?
    You have gone to the roof of heavens.
    Of this world of dust, why do you worry?
    Oh soul,
    you worry too much.
    Since you met me,
    you have become a master singer,
    and are now a skilled wrangler,
    you can untangle any knot.
    Of life’s little leash
    why do you worry?
    Your arms are heavy
    with treasures of all kinds.
    About poverty,
    why do you worry?
    You are Joseph,
    beautiful, strong,
    steadfast in your belief,
    all of Egypt has become drunk
    because of you.
    Of those who are blind to your beauty,
    and deaf to your songs,
    why do you worry?
    Oh soul,
    you worry too much.
    You say that your housemate is the
    Heart of Love,
    she is your best friend.
    You say that you are the heat of
    the oven of every Lover.
    You say that you are the servant of
    Ali’s magical sword, Zolfaghar.
    Of any little dagger
    why do you still worry?
    Oh soul,
    you worry too much.
    You have seen your own strength.
    You have seen your own beauty.
    You have seen your golden wings.
    Of anything less,
    why do you worry?
    You are in truth
    the soul, of the soul, of the soul.
    You are the security,
    the shelter of the spirit of Lovers.
    Oh the sultan of sultans,
    of any other king,
    why do you worry?
    Be silent, like a fish,
    and go into that pleasant sea.
    You are in deep waters now,
    of life’s blazing fire.
    Why do you worry?

    From: Hush Don’t Say Anything to God: Passionate Poems of Rumi
    Translated by Sharam Shiva

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  • Without the eyes…

    By Rumi

    Without the eyes – two clouds – the lightning of the heart:
    The fire of God’s threat, how could it be allayed?
    How would the herbage grow of union, sweet to taste?
    How would the fountains all gush forth with water pure?
    How would the rosebed tell its secret to the meadow?
    How would the violet make contracts with jasmine?
    How would the plane tree lift its hands in prayer, say?
    How would the trees’ heads toss free in the air of Love?
    How would the blossoms shake their sleeves in days of spring
    To shed their lovely coins about the garden wide?
    How would the tulip’s cheek be red like flames and blood?
    How would the rose draw out its gold now from its purse?
    How would the ringdoves call like seekers, “Where, oh where?”
    How would the stork repeat his laklak from his soul,
    To say: “O Helper high, Thine is the kingdom, Thine!”
    How would the dust reveal the secrets of its heart?
    How would the sky become a garden full of light?

    Translated by Annemarie Schimmel

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  • Whoever Brought Me Here, Will Have To Take Me Home

    By Rumi

    All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
    Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
    I have no idea.
    My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
    and I intend to end up there.

    This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
    When I get back around to that place,
    I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
    I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
    The day is coming when I fly off,
    but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
    Who says words with my mouth?

    Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
    I cannot stop asking.
    If I could taste one sip of an answer,
    I could break out of this prison for drunks.
    I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
    Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home.

    This poetry. I never know what I’m going to say.
    I don’t plan it.
    When I’m outside the saying of it,
    I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

    From: Essential Rumi

    Coleman Barks with John Moyne

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