Rumi - Poems of Passion (Selected) - Jalal Ad-Din Muhammad Rumi (1207-1273)
Rumi - Poems of Passion (Selected) - Jalal Ad-Din Muhammad Rumi (1207-1273)
Rumi - Poems of Passion (Selected) - Jalal Ad-Din Muhammad Rumi (1207-1273)
Poems of Passion
Hurry and get out of this wind, for the weather is bad. And when you've left this storm, you will come to a fountain; You'll find a Friend there who will always nourish your soul. And with your soul always green, you'll grow into a tall tree Flowering always with sweet light-fruit, whose growth is interior.
Oh Beloved
Oh Beloved, take me. Liberate my soul. Fill me with your love and release me from the two worlds. If I set my heart on anything but you let fire burn me from inside. Oh Beloved, take away what I want. Take away what I do. Take away what I need. Take away everything that takes me from you.
CRADLE MY HEART
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,
Hush Don't Say Anything to God: Passionate Poems of Rumi Translated by Shahram Shiva
THE AWAKENING
In the early dawn of happiness you gave me three kisses so that I would wake up to this moment of love I tried to remember in my heart what Id dreamt about during the night before I became aware of this moving of life I found my dreams but the moon took me away It lifted me up to the firmament and suspended me there I saw how my heart had fallen on your path
singing a song Between my love and my heart things were happening which slowly slowly made me recall everything You amuse me with your touch although I cant see your hands. You have kissed me with tenderness although I havent seen your lips You are hidden from me. But it is you who keeps me alive Perhaps the time will come when you will tire of kisses I shall be happy even for insults from you I only ask that you keep some attention on me.
scattering, since a bride is coming from the skies, consisting of a full moon. Venus cannot contain hereself for charming melodies, like the nightingale which becomes intoxicated with the rose in spring-time. See how the polestar is ogling Leo; behold what dust Pisces is stirring up drom the deep! Jupiter has galloped his steed against ancient Saturn, saying Take back your youth and go, bring good tidings! Mars' hand, which was full of blood from the handle of his sword, has become as life-giving as the sun, the exalted in works. Since Aquarius has come full of that water of life, the dry cluster of Virgo is raining pearls from him. The Pleiades full of goodness fears not Libra and being broken; how should Aries flee away in fright from its mother? When from the moon the arrow of a glance struck the heart of Sagittarius, he took to night-faring in passion for her, like Scorpio. On such a festival, go, sacrifice Taurus, else you are crooked of gait in the mud like Cancer. This sky is the astrolabe, and the reality is Love; whatever wesay of this, attend to the meaning. Shamsi-Tabriz, on that dawn when you shine, the dark night
Mystical Poems of Rumi 1A.J. Arberry - The University of Chicago Press, 1968
Furuzanfar #2674 (translated by Coleman Barks); The Rumi Collection, edited by Kabir Helminski
That moon
That moon, which the sky ne'er saw even in dreams, has returned And brought a fire no water can quench. See the body' s house, and see my. soul, This made drunken and that desolate by the cup of his love. When the host of the tavern became my heart-mate, My blood turned to wine and my heart to kabab. When the eye is filled with thought of him, a voice arrives : W ell done, O flagon, and bravo, wine! Love's fingers tear up, root and stem, Every house where sunbeams fall from love. When my heart saw love's sea, of a sudden It left me and leaped in, crying, , Find me.' The face of Shamsi Din, Tabriz's glory, is the sun In whose track the cloud-like hearts are moving.
THROUGH LOVE
Through Love all that is bitter will sweet Through Love all that is copper will be gold. Through Love all dregs will turn to purest wine Through Love all pain will turn to medicine. Through Love the dead will all become alive. Through Love the king will turn into a slave!
ONCE
ONCE a beloved asked her lover: Friend, You have seen many places in the world! Now - which of all these cities was the best? He said: The city where my sweetheart lives!
FROM MYSELF
From myself I am copper, through You, friend, I am gold. From myself I'm a stone, but
How should a fish not leap fast into the sea form dry land When from the ocean so cool the sound of the waves reaches its How should the falcon not fly back to his king from the hunt When from the falconer's drum it hears to call: Oh, come back? Why should not every Sufi begin to dance atom-like Around the Sun of duration that saves from impermanence? What graciousness and what beauty? What life-bestowing! What grace! If anyone does without that, woewhat err, what suffering! Oh fly , of fly, O my soul-bird, fly to your primordial home! You have escaped from the cage nowyour wings are spread in the air. Oh travel from brackish water now to the fountain of life! Return from the place of the sandals now to the high seat of souls!
Go on! Go on! we are going, and we are coming, O soul, From this world of separation to union, a world beyond worlds! How long shall we here in the dust-world like children fill our skirts With earth and with stones without value, with broken shards without worth? Let's take our hand from the dust grove, let's fly to the heavens' high, Let's fly from our childish behaviour and join the banquet of men! Call out, O soul, to proclaim now that you are rules and king! You have the grace of the answer, you know the question as well!
WHISPERS OF LOVE
Lover whispers to my ear, Better to be a prey than a hunter.
Make yourself My fool. Stop trying to be the sun and become a speck! Dwell at My door and be homeless. Don't pretend to be a candle, be a moth, so you may taste the savor of Life and know the power hidden in serving.
Mathnawi V. 411-414 (translated by Kabir Helminski); The Rumi Collection, Edited by Kabir Helminski
How Long
How Long Can I Lament With This Depressed Heart And Soul How Long Can I Remain A Sad Autumn Ever Since My Grief Has Shed My Leaves The Entire Space Of My Soul
Is Burning In Agony How Long Can I Hide The Flames Wanting To Rise Out Of This Fire How Long Can One Suffer The Pain Of Hatred Of Another Human A Friend Behaving Like An Enemy With A Broken Heart How Much More Can I Take The Message From Body To Soul I Believe In Love I Swear By Love Believe Me My Love How Long Like A Prisoner Of Grief Can I Beg For Mercy You Know I'm Not A Piece Of Rock Or Steel But Hearing My Story Even Water Will Become As Tense As A Stone
If I Can Only Recount The Story Of My Life Right Out Of My Body Flames Will Grow
Lead Me To The Source Fill My Jug Over And Over Again Last Night I Finally Caught Your Attention In The Crowd It Was Your Image Filling My Dream Telling Me To Stop This Wandering Stop This Search For Good And Evil I Said My Dear Prophet Give Me Some Of That You've Drunk For Ecstasy Of Life If I Let You Drink You Said Any Of This Burning Flame It Will Scorch Your Mouth And Throat Your Portion Has Been Given Already By Heaven Ask For More At Your Peril I Lamented And Begged I Desire Much More Please Show Me The Source I Have No Fear To Burn My Mouth And Throat I'm Ready To Drink Every Flame And More
Am Blue Hearing Nagging Voices And Meek Cries I Desire Loud Music Drunken Parties And Wild Dance One Hand Holding A Cup Of Wine One Hand Caressing Your Hair Then Dancing In Orbital Circle That Is What I Yearn For I Can Sing Better Than Any Nightingale But Because Of This City's Freaks I Seal My Lips While My Heart Weeps Yesterday The Wisest Man Holding A Lit Lantern In Daylight Was Searching Around Town Saying I Am Tired Of All These Beasts And Brutes I Seek A True Human We Have All Looked
For One But No One Could Be Found They Said Yes He Replied But My Search Is For The One Who Cannot Be Found
Angels start away from the house wherein this form is, so how should I beguile him with such a form and likeness? He does not take a flock of horses, since he flies on wings; his food is light, so how should I beguile him with bread? He is not a merchant and trafficker in the market of the world that I should beguile him with enchantment of gain and loss. He is not veiled that I should make myself out sick and utter sighs, to beguile him with lamentation. I will bind my head and bow my head, for I have got out of hand; I will not beguile his compassion with sickness or fluttering. Hair by hair he sees my crookedness and feigning; whats hidden from him that I should beguile him with anything hidden. He is not a seeker of fame, a prince addicted to poets, that I should beguile him with verses and lyrics and flowing poetry. The glory of the unseen form is too great for me to beguile it with blessing or Paradise. Shams-e Tabriz, who is his chosen and beloved perchance I will beguile him with this same pole of the age.
a Persian tune.; the wine was his object, the saqi was his excuse. The moonfaced saqi pitcher in his hand, entered from a corner and set it in the middle. He filled the first cup with that flaming wine; did you ever see water sending out flames? He set it on his hand for the sake of the lovers, then prostrated and kissed the threshold. My sweetheart seized it from him and quaffed the wine; flames from that wine went running over his face. He was beholding his own beauty, and saying to the evil eye, Never has there been, nor shall there come in this age, another like me.
Translation by A. J. Arberry Mystical Poems of Rumi 2, The University of Chicago Press, 1991
[http://www.khamush.com/passion.htm]
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
Come on Sweetheart
Come On Sweetheart Let's Adore One Another Before There Is No More Of You And Me
A Mirror Tells The Truth Look At Your Grim Face Brighten Up And Cast Away Your Bitter Smile A Generous Friend Gives Life For A Friend Let's Rise Above This Animalistic Behavior And Be Kind To One Another Spite Darkens Friendships Why Not Cast Away Malice From Our Heart Once You Think Of Me Dead And Gone You Will Make Up With Me You Will Miss Me You May Even Adore Me Why Be A Worshiper Of The Dead Think Of Me As A Goner Come And Make Up Now Since You Will Come And Throw Kisses At My Tombstone Later Why Not Give Them To Me Now
This Is Me That Same Person I May Talk Too Much But My Heart Is Silence What Else Can I Do I Am Condemned To Live This Life
Hunting Down The Birds Of Black Omen Before Their Flights I Gave My Word At The Outset To Give My Life With No Qualms I Pray To The Lord To Break My Back Before I Break My Word How Do You Dare To Let Someone Like Me Intoxicated With Love Enter Your House You Must Know Better If I Enter I'll Break All This And Destroy All That If The Sheriff Arrives I'll Throw The Wine In His Face If Your Gatekeeper Pulls My Hand I'll Break His Arm
If The Heavens Don't Go Round To My Heart's Desire I'll Crush Its Wheels And Pull Out Its Roots You Have Set Up A Colorful Table Calling It Life And Asked Me To Your Feast But Punish Me If I Enjoy Myself What Tyranny Is This
* When Your Heart Is Immersed In This Blissful Love You Can Easily Endure Any Bitter Face Around * In The Absence Of Malice There Is Nothing But Happiness And Good Times Don't Dwell In Sorrow My Friend
Remember me.
I will be with you in the grave on the night you leave behind your shop and your family. When you hear my soft voice echoing in your tomb, you will realize that you were never hidden from my eyes.
I am the pure awareness within your heart, with you during joy and celebration, suffering and despair. On that strange and fateful night you will hear a familar voice -you'll be rescued from the fangs of snakes and the searing sting of scorpions. The euphoria of love will sweep over your grave; it will bring wine and friends, candles and food. When the light of realization dawns, shouting and upheaval will rise up from the graves! The dust of ages will be stirred by the cities of ecstasy, by the banging of drums, by the clamor of revolt! Dead bodies will tear off their shrouds and stuff their ears in fright-What use are the senses and the ears before the blast of that Trumpet? Look and you will see my form whether you are looking at yourself or toward that noise and confusion. Don't be blurry-eyed,
See me clearlySee my beauty without the old eyes of delusion. Beware! Beware! Don't mistake me for this human form. The soul is not obscured by forms. Even if it were wrapped in a hundred folds of felt the rays of the soul's light would still shine through. Beat the drum, Follow the minstrels of the city. It's a day of renewal when every young man walks boldly on the path of love. Had everyone sought God Instead of crumbs and copper coins T'hey would not be sitting on the edge of the moat in darkness and regret. What kind of gossip-house have you opened in our city? Close your lips and shine on the world like loving sunlight. Shine like the Sun of Tabriz rising in the East. Shine like the star of victory.
What graciousness and what beauty? What life-bestowing! What grace! If anyone does without that, woewhat err, what suffering! Oh fly , of fly, O my soul-bird, fly to your primordial home! You have escaped from the cage nowyour wings are spread in the air. Oh travel from brackish water now to the fountain of life! Return from the place of the sandals now to the high seat of souls! Go on! Go on! we are going, and we are coming, O soul, From this world of separation to union, a world beyond worlds! How long shall we here in the dust-world like children fill our skirts With earth and with stones without value, with broken shards without worth? Let's take our hand from the dust grove, let's fly to the heavens' high, Let's fly from our childish behaviour and join the banquet of men!
Call out, O soul, to proclaim now that you are rules and king! You have the grace of the answer, you know the question as well!
Said He: The witness is corrupt, your eye is wet and ill! Said I: No, by Your eminence: My eye is sinless clear! He said: And what do you intend? Said I: Just faithful friendships! Said He: What do you want from me? Said I: Your grace abundant! Said He: Who travelled here with you? Said I: Your dream and phantom! Said He: And what led you to me? Said I: Your goblet's fragrance! Said He: What is most pleasant, say? Said I: The ruler's presence! Said He: What did you see there, friend? Said I: A hundred wonders! Said He: Why is it empty now? Said I: From fear of brigands! Said He: The brigand, who is that? Said I: IT is the blaming! Said He: And where is safety then? Said: In renunciation. Said He: Renunciation? That's ... ? Said I: The path to safety!
Said He: And where is danger, then? Said I: In Your love's quarters! Said He: And how do you fare there? Said I: Steadfast and happy. I tested you and tested you, but it availed to nothing Who tests the one who was once tried, he will repent forever! Be silent! If I'd utter here the secrets fine he told me, You would go out all of yourself, no door nor roof could hold you!
OH HAPPY DAY
OH HAPPY DAY when in you presence, my ruler, I shall die! When near the sugar-treasure melting like sugar I shall die! Out of my dust will grow a thousand of centrifolias When in the shade of yonder cypress in gardens I shall die.
And when you pour into my goblet the bitter drink of death, I'll kiss the goblet full of joy, dear, and drunken I shall die. I may turn yellow like the autumn when people speak of death, Thanks to your smiling lip: like springtime and smiling shall I die. I have died many times, but your breath made me alive again, Should I die thus a hundred more times I happily shall die! A child that dies in mother's bosom, that's how I am, my friend, For in the bosom of His Mercy and kindness, I shall die. Say: Where would death be for the lovers? Impossible is that! For in the fountain of the Water of Life - there I shall die!
WHY CLING
Why cling to one life till it is soiled and ragged? The sun dies and dies squandering a hundred lived every instant God has decreed life for you and He will give another and another and another
(translated by Daniel Liebert) Mathnawi V. 411-414 (translated by Kabir Helminski) - The Rumi Collection, Edited by Kabir Helminski
At The Twilight
At the twilight, a moon appeared in the sky; Then it landed on earth to look at me. Like a hawk stealing a bird at the time of prey; That moon stole me and rushed back into the sky. I looked at myself, I did not see me anymore; For in that moon, my body turned as fine as soul.
The nine spheres disappeared in that moon; The ship of my existence drowned in that sea.
Divan, 649:1-3,5
Divan, 1808:6-9
Translated by Fatemeh Keshavarz, 'Reading Mystical Lyric: The Case of Jalal al-Din Rumi, University of South Carolina Press, 1998.
[http://www.khamush.com/life&death.htm]
Mawln Jall ad-Dn Muhammad Rm (= Persian) / (Turkish =) Mevln Celleddin Mehmed Rumi, (12071273 CE), also known as Muhammad Balkh (Persian), but known to the world simply as Rumi, was a 13th century Persian poet, jurist, theologian and teacher of Sufism.
Rumi was born in Balkh (then a city of the Greater Khorasan province of Persia, now part of Afghanistan) and died in Konya (in present-day Turkey). His birthplace and native tongue indicate a Persian heritage. He also wrote his poetry in Persian and his works are widely read in Iran and Afghanistan where the language is spoken. He lived most of his life and produced his works under the Seljuk Empire and his descendants today are Turkish citizens and
live in modern day Turkey. Rumi's importance transcends national and ethnic borders. He has had a significant influence on both Turkish and Persian literature throughout the centuries. His poems have been translated into many of the world's languages and have appeared in various formats. He was also the founder of the Mevlevi order, better known as the Whirling Dervishes, who believe in performing their worship in the form of dance and music ceremony called the sema. The general theme of his thoughts, like that of the other mystic and Sufi poets of the Persian literature, is essentially about the concept of Tawheed (unity) and union with his beloved (the primal root) from which / whom he has been cut and fallen aloof, and his longing and desire for re-unity.
Wanderer, idolater, worshipper of fire, Come even though you have broken your vows a thousand times, Come, and come yet again. Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Rumi's love and his bereavement for the death of Shams found their expression in an outpouring of music, dance and lyric poems, Divani Shamsi Tabrizi. He himself went out searching for Shams and journeyed again to Damascus. There, he realized:
In December 1273, Rumi fell ill. He predicted his own death and composed the well-known ghazal, which begins with the verse:
How doest thou know what sort of king I have within me as companion? Do not cast thy glance upon my golden face, for I have iron legs.
He died on December 17, 1273 in Konya; Rumi was laid to rest beside his father, and a splendid shrine, the Yeil Trbe Green Tomb, was erected over his tomb. His epitaph reads:
When we are dead,
seek not our tomb in the earth, but find it in the hearts of men.
Rumi's life is fully described in Shams-ud-din Ahmed Aflkis Manakib-ul-Arifin (written between 1318 and 1353). He claimed descent from the caliph Abu Bakr, and from the Khwarizm-Shah Sultan Ala-ud-Din b. Tukush (11991220), whose only daughter, Malika-i-Jahan, had been married to Jalal-ud-dins grandfather.
Work
Rumi's poetry is often divided into various categories: the quatrains (rubaiyat) and odes (ghazals) of the Divan, the six books of the Mathnawi, the discourses, the letters, and the almost unknown Six Sermons. Rumi's major work is Masnavi-ye Manavi (Spiritual Couplets), a six-volume poem regarded by many Sufis as second in importance only to the Qur'an. * Fihi Ma Fih (In It What's in It) is composed of Rumi's speeches on different subjects. Rumi himself did not prepare or write these discourses. They were recorded by his son Sultan Valad or some other disciple of Rumi and put together as a book. The title may mean, What's in the Mathnawi is in this too. Some of the discourses are addressed to Muin al-Din Parvane. Some portions of it are commentary on Masnavi. * Majalis-i Sab'a (seven sessions) contains seven sermons (as the name implies) given in seven different assemblies. As Aflaki relates, after Sham-i Tabrizi, Rumi gave sermons at the request of notables, especially Salah al-Din Zarqubi.
followers after his death. His first successor in the rectorship of the order was Husam Chelebi himself, after whose death in 1284 Rumi's younger and only surviving son, Sultan Walad, favorably known as author of the mystical Mathnawi Rabbnma, or the Book of the Guitar (died 1312), was installed as grand master of the order. The leadership of the order has been kept in Jalaluddin's family in Iconium uninterruptedly for the last six hundred years.