Category: Rumi

  • Look at Love…

    By Rumi

    Look at Love…
    how it tangles
    with the one fallen in love

    look at spirit
    how it fuses with earth
    giving it new life

    why are you so busy
    with this or that or good or bad
    pay attention to how things blend

    why talk about all
    the known and the unknown
    see how unknown merges into the known

    why think separately
    of this life and the next
    when one is born from the last

    look at your heart and tongue
    one feels but deaf and dumb
    the other speaks in words and signs

    look at water and fire
    earth and wind
    enemies and friends all at once

    the wolf and the lamb
    the lion and the deer
    far away yet together

    look at the unity of this
    spring and winter
    manifested in the equinox

    you too must mingle my friends
    since the earth and the sky
    are mingled just for you and me

    be like sugarcane
    sweet yet silent
    don’t get mixed up with bitter words

    my beloved grows
    right out of my own heart
    how much more union can there be
    translated by Nader Khalili

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  • Longing for the Birds of Solomon

    By Rumi

    Is this stuff poetry? It’s what birds sing in cages.
    Where are the words spoken by the birds of Solomon?

    How would you know their cries, if you heard them,
    When you haven’t seen Solomon even for two seconds?

    Solomon’s bird lifts his wings, one tip touches East, one West.
    Those who hear the notes feel an intensity in their whole body.

    The bird descends from the Holy One’s bedroom door to earth.
    And from earth it flies among light back to the Great Seat.

    Without Solomon every bird is a bat in love with darkness.
    Listen, oh mischievous bat, try to become his friend. Do you want to stay
    in your cave forever?

    If you go even three feet towards Solomon’s mountain,
    Others will use that as a yardstick to measure their lives.

    Suppose your leg is gimpy, and you have to hop, what’s the difference?
    Going toward Solomon, even by limping, the leg grows whole.

    The Rumi Collection – Edited by Kabir Helminski
    Translation by Robert Bly

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  • It is your turn now

    By Rumi

    It is your turn now,
    you waited, you were patient.
    The time has come,
    for us to polish you.
    We will transform your inner pearl
    into a house of fire.
    You’re a gold mine.
    Did you know that,
    hidden in the dirt of the earth?
    It is your turn now,
    to be placed in fire.
    Let us cremate your impurities.

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

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  • If you can

    By Rumi

    IF YOU CAN DISENTANGLE
    yourself from your selfish self
    all heavenly spirits
    will stand ready to serve you

    if you can finally hunt down
    your own beastly self
    you have the right
    to claim Solomon’s kingdom

    you are that blessed soul who
    belongs to the garden of paradise
    is it fair to let yourself
    fall apart in a shattered house

    you are the bird of happiness
    in the magic of existence
    what a pity when you let
    yourself be chained and caged

    but if you can break free
    from this dark prison named body
    soon you will see
    you are the sage and the fountain of life

    translated by Nader Khalili

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  • Desire and the Importance of Failing

    By Rumi

    A window opens.
    A curtain pulls back.

    The lamp of lovers connect,
    not at their ceramic bases,
    but in their lightedness.

    No lover wants union with the Beloved
    without the Beloved also wanting the lover.

    Love makes the lover weak,
    while the Beloved gets strong.

    Lightning from here strikes there.
    When you begin to love God, God
    is loving you. A clapping sound
    does not come from one hand.

    A thirsty man calls out, ‘Delicious water,
    where are you?’ while the water moans,
    ‘Where is the water drinker?’

    The thirst in our souls is the attraction
    put out by the Water itself.

    We belong to It,
    and It to us.

    God’s wisdom made us lovers of one another.
    In fact, all the particles of the world
    are in love and looking for lovers.

    Pieces of straw tremble
    in the presence of amber.

    We tremble like iron filings
    welcoming the magnet.

    Whatever that Presence gives us
    we take in. Earth signs feed.
    Water signs wash and freshen.
    Air signs clear the atmosphere.
    Fire signs jiggle the skillet,
    so we cook without getting burnt.

    And the Holy Spirit helps with everything,
    like a young man trying to support a family.
    We, like the man’s young wife, stay home,
    taking care of the house, nursing the children.

    Spirit and matter work together like this,
    in a division of labor.

    Sweethearts kiss and taste the delight
    before they slip into bed and mate.

    The desire of each lover is
    that the work of the other be perfected.
    By this man-and-woman cooperation,
    the world gets preserved.
    Generation occurs.

    Roses and blue arghawan flowers flower.
    Night and day meet in a mutual hug.

    So different, but they do love each other,
    the day and the night, like family.

    And without their mutual alternation
    we would have no energy.

    Every part of the cosmos is draws toward its mate.
    The ground keeps talking to the body,
    saying, ‘Come back! It’s better for you
    down here where you came from.’

    The streamwater calls to the moisture in the body.
    The fiery aether whispers to the body’s heat,
    ‘I am your origin. Come with me.’
    Seventy-two diseases are caused
    by the various elements pulling inside the body.
    Disease comes, and the organs
    fall out of harmony.

    We’re like four different birds,
    that each had one leg tied in
    with the other birds.

    A flopping bouguet of birds!
    Death releases the binding, and they fly off,
    but before that, their pulling is our pain.

    Consider how the soul must be,
    in the midst of these tensions,
    feeling its own exalted pull.

    My longing is more profound.
    The birds want sweet green herbs
    and the water running by.

    I want the infinite! I want wisdom.
    These birds want orchards and meadows
    and vines with fruit on them.

    I want a vast expansion.
    They want profit and security
    of having enough food.

    Remember what the soul wants,
    because in that, eternity
    is wanting our souls!

    Which is the meaning of the text,
    They love That, and That loves them.

    If I keep on explaining this,
    the Mathnawi will run to eighty volumes!

    The gist is: whatever anyone seeks,
    that is seeking the seeker.

    No matter if its animal,
    or vegetable, or mineral.

    Every bit of the universe
    is filled with wanting,
    and whatever any bit wants,
    wants the wanter!

    This subject must dissolve again.

    Back to Sadri Jahan and the uneducated peasant
    who loved him, so that gradually Sadri Jahan
    loved the lowly man. But who really
    attracted who, whoom, Huuuu?

    Don’t be presumptuous and say one or the other.
    Close your lips. The mystery of loving
    is God’s sweetest secret.

    Keep it. Bury it. Leave it here
    where I leave it, drawn as I am
    by the pull of the Puller
    to something else.

    You know how it is. Sometimes
    we plan a trip to one place,
    but something takes us to another.

    When a horse is being broken, the trainer
    pulls it in many different directions,
    so the horse will come to know
    what it is to be ridden.

    The most beautiful and alert horse is one
    completely attuned to the rider.

    God fixes a passionate desire in you,
    and then disappoints you.
    God does that a hundred times!

    God breaks the wings of one intention
    and then gives you another,
    cuts the rope of contriving,
    so you’ll remember your dependence.

    But sometimes your plans work out!
    You feel fulfilled and in control.

    That’s because, if you were always failing,
    you might give up. But remember,
    it is by failures that lovers
    stay aware of how they are loved.

    Failure is the key
    to the kingdom within.

    Your prayer should be, “Break the legs
    of what I want to happen. Humiliate
    my desire. Eat me like candy.
    It’s spring and finally
    I have no will.”

    (Mathnawi, III, 4391 – 4472)

    From: Feeling the Shoulder of the Lion
    Translated by Coleman Barks

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  • Cradle My Heart

    By Rumi

    Last night,
    I was lying on the rooftop,
    thinking of you.
    I saw a special Star,
    and summoned her to take you a message.
    I prostrated myself to the Star
    and asked her to take my prostration
    to that Sun of Tabriz.
    So that with his light, he can turn
    my dark stones into gold.
    I opened my chest and showed her my scars,
    I told her to bring me news
    of my bloodthirsty Lover.
    As I waited,
    I paced back and forth,
    until the child of my heart became quiet.
    The child slept, as if I were rocking his cradle.
    Oh Beloved, give milk to the infant of the heart,
    and don’t hold us from our turning.
    You have cared for hundreds,
    don’t let it stop with me now.
    At the end, the town of unity is the place for the heart.
    Why do you keep this bewildered heart
    in the town of dissolution?
    I have gone speechless, but to rid myself
    of this dry mood,
    oh Saaqhi, pass the narcissus of the wine.

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

    Translated by Sharam Shiva

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  • Close the Language-Door

    By Rumi

    There is some kiss we want
    with our whole lives,
    the touch of Spirit on the body.

    Seawater begs the pearl
    to break its shell.

    And the lily, how passionately
    it needs some wild Darling!

    At night, I open the window
    and ask the moon to come
    and press its face against mine.
    Breathe into me.

    Close the language-door,
    and open the love-window

    The moon won’t use the door,
    only the window.
    From: Like This Versions of Rumi by Coleman Barks

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