Rumi, Journey and Discovery

Pilgrims
why are you turning round in circles,
what are you looking for?
The Beloved is here, why search in the desert?

If you look deep in your heart
you will find Him within yourself.
You have made the pilgrimage and
trod the path to Mecca many times.

You rave about the holy place
and say you've visited God's garden
but where is your bunch of flowers?
You tell stories about diving deep into the ocean
but where is your pearl?

There is some merit
in the suffering you have endured,
but what a pity you have not discovered
the Mecca that's inside.

J. Rumi

(Gardens of the Beloved)

Look at You and remember Me

"You've no idea how hard I've looked for a gift to bring You...
nothing seemed right.
What's the point of bringing gold to the gold mine, or water to the Ocean?
Everything I came up with was like taking spices to the Orient.
It's no good giving my heart and my soul because you already have these.
So- I've brought you a mirror.
Look at yourself and remember me."

Jelaluddin Rumi

Charm

"Your charm lured me
to the edge of madness.
I lost my composure.
Humbled, I was sent away.
Then, You touched my heart,
transformed and shaped me
into any form You fancied."

RUMI

look at the fisherman...

"You're a fish in the trap of the body;
look at the fisherman, don't look at the net.
Gaze in wonder at the infinite rose garden,
don't consider that thorn that wounded your foot.
Contemplate the Bird of Heaven whose shadow shelters you,
don't look at the crow that escaped your hands.
Put your trust in Him who gives life and ecstacy;
don't mourn what doesn't exist, cling to what does."

JELALUDDIN RUMI

Flood Residue

'The taste of today is not that of yesterday.
A pot boils over.

A watchman calls down the ladder,
Did you hear the commotion last night
from the seventh level?

Saturn turns to Venus and tells her
to play the strings more gently.
Taurus milk turns red. Leo slinks from the sky.

Strange signs, because of a word
that comes from the soul
to help us escape speaking and concepts.

I answer the nightwatchman,
You will have to assign meanings
for these ominous events.

I have been set free from the hunt,
the catching and being caught,
to rest in these dregs
of flood residue, pure and empty.'

The Essential Rumi- Coleman Barks, p296.

I am nothing

I wonder
from these thousands of "me's",
which one am I?
Listen to my cry, do not drown my voice
I am completely filled with the thought of you.
Don't lay broken glass on my path
I will crush it into dust.

I am nothing, just a mirror in the palm of your hand,
reflecting your kindness, your sadness, your anger.
If you were a blade of grass or a tiny flower
I would pitch my tent in your shadow.

Only your presence revives my withered heart.
You are the candle that lights the whole world
and I am an empty vessel for your light.


Rumi: "Hidden Music", p75

The GUeSt HoUse - Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

from- The Essential Rumi- Coleman Barks translation.

QuiEtneSs - Rumi

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape. Walk out
like someone suddenly born into colour.
Do it now.
You're covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side. Die,
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest
sign that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.

The speechless full moon comes out now.

J.Rumi.

RUMI- THE BOOK OF LOVE (2005)p33,transl by Coleman Barks

i dont believe in coincidence..

I was speaking to one of my friends regards the inevitable stream of divine inspiration everywhere around us; and with special reference to the way that Rumi-yana finds its way into my hands at various stages of my life..
Anyway, I picked up one of my newest anthologies (bought in Delhi last month, 'Rumi-The Book of Love'; a transl by Coleman Barks.. and opened to a page, just browsing. The following pieces all occur side by side on pages134/135, all make varied but profound sense to me.. based on some conversations and reflections with friends and loved ones.. sometimes, we don't have to look all that far in order to find divinity.. its in the spiritual water we drink from being close to or being with people who inspire real joy in us..


CANDLE AT NOON - p134

'A man is wandering the marketplace at noon
with a candle in his hand, totally ecstatic.

"Hey," calls a shopkeeper,"is this a joke?
Who are you looking for?"

"Someone breathing Huuu,the divine breath."
"Well, there are plenty to choose from."

"But I want one who can be in anger and desire
and still be a true human being in the same moment."


DERVISHES -p134

When school and mosque and minaret
get torn down, then dervishes can begin
their community. Not until faithfulness

turns to betrayal and betrayal into trust
can any human being become
part of the truth.


DOVES -p134/5

People want you to be happy.
Don't keep serving them your pain!

If you could untie your wings
and free your soul of jealousy,

you and everyone around you
would fly up like doves.


WHEN WORDS ARE TINGED WITH LYING -p135

Muhammad gave this indication of how to know
what's real. "When you feel

a peaceful joy, you're near the truth.
Unquiet and off centre, jealous or greedy,

then what you do seems pretentious
and those around you insincere.

Speak the clearest truth you know,
and let the uneasiness heal."

When words are tinged with lying,
they're like water dripping into an oil lamp.
The wick won't light, and the pleasure
of your love room will diminish.


---------------------------------------Jumuah love to all...Shfs

rumi soul love eternal

'Lover's don't finally find each other..

They're in each other all along'


R U M I

What would I be? - Rumi

(Rumi laments the loss of his spiritual teacher, Shams)

"Come near, you so like me.
My love feels held in,
until you ask, Do you hurt?

As I feel love rise, I fight with it.
You say, Bravo. The general takes command.

Last night this body was a stringed instrument
playing love songs.

There is a kind of accounting
going on with you and me.

But all I want from this exchange
is your peace. I fly inside mystery.
You say, Try to keep up, my lame friend.

There is a grapevine hanging here.
Should I climb it?

When you stay away, I'm miserable.
What would I be if you wanted
to be with me all the time?

Grief and unexpected joy live in a doorway
where there is no time or distance.

Aging changes to childhood.
My face is new again.

You say, My confused and silent friend."


Jelaluddin Rumi: The Essential Rumi, transl by Coleman Barks, p307

Rumi's Love for Gambling

'To a frog that's never left his pond the ocean seems like a gamble.
Look what he's giving up: security, mastery of his world, recognition!
The ocean frog just shakes his head.
"I can't really explain what it's like where I live, but someday I'll take you there."

Gamble everything for love,
if you're a true human being.

If not, leave
this gathering.

Half-heartedness doesn't reach
into majesty. You set out
to find God, but then you keep
stopping for long periods
at mean-spirited roadhouses.

Colemand Barks: The Essential Rumi. pp193/4

The Vigil

Don't go to sleep one night.
What you most want will come to you then.
Warmed by a sun inside, you'll see wonders.
Tonight, don't put your head down.
Be tough, and strength will come.
That which adoration adores
appears at night. Those asleep
may miss it. One night Moses stayed awake
and asked, and saw a light in a tree.

Then he walked at night for ten years,
until he finally saw the whole tree
illuminated. Muhammad rode his horse
through the nightsky. The day is for work.
The night for love. Don't let someone
bewitch you. Some people sleep at night.

But not lovers. They sit in the dark
and talk to God, who told David,
'Those who sleep at night every night
and claim to be connected to us, they lie'

Lovers can't sleep when they feel the privacy
of the beloved all around them. Someone
who's thirsty may sleep for a little while,
but he or she will dream of water, a full jar
beside a creek, or the spiritual water you get
from another person. All night, listen
to the conversation. Stay up.
This moment is all there is.

Death will take it away soon enough.
You'll be gone, and this earth will be left
without a sweetheart, nothing but weeds
growing inside thorns.

I'm through. Read the rest of this poem
in the dark tonight.

Do I have a head? And feet?
Shams, so loved by Tabrizians, I close my lips.
And wait for you to come and open them.

The Essential Rumi, p86... translated by Coleman Barks

Rumiyana

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 I’d 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 can’t see your hands.
You have kissed me with tenderness
although I haven’t 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.

The Love Poems of Rumi by
Deepak Chopra (Editor)

More Rumi... Love,Beauty and Solace..

"I am only the house of your beloved,

not the beloved herself:

true love is for the treasure,

not for the coffer that contains it."

The real beloved is that one who is unique,

who is your beginning and your end.

When you find that one,

you'll no longer expect anything else:

that is both the manifest and the mystery.

That one is the lord of states of feeling,

dependent on none;

month and year are slaves to that moon.

When he bids the "state,"

it does His bidding;

when that one wills, bodies become spirit.

Mathnawi III, 1417-1424





The intellectual is always showing off,

the lover is always getting lost.

The intellectual runs away.

afraid of drowning;

the whole business of love

is to drown in the sea.

Intellectuals plan their repose;

lovers are ashamed to rest.

The lover is always alone.

even surrounded by people;

like water and oil, he remains apart.

The man who goes to the trouble

of giving advice to a lover

get nothing. He's mocked by passion.

Love is like musk. It attracts attention.

Love is a tree, and the lovers are its shade.

Kulliyat-e Shams, 21




Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,

let them sleep.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way,

sleep on.

I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.

If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,

and sleep.

"Like This" Coleman Barks, Maypop, 1990


poems taken from http://www.khamush.com/love_poems.html

Art as Flirtation and Surrender

In your light I learn how to love.

In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest,

where no one sees you,

but sometimes I do,

and that sight becomes this art.

J.RUMI



(Excerpt from The Essential Rumi, translations by Coleman Barks with John Moyne, 1995. )

Rumi: Once more...

Once more,
Love is pouring down my ceiling
and my walls.
Once more,
the lion of Love is revealing its
deadly claws
and my deer-like heart is thirsting for blood.
Once more, it's the night of the full moon,
it is time for madness.
All my immense knowledge
cannot help me now.

Like a Moth to the Flame

Resuming the persona that is Kimya, I attended one of the numerous Rumi Fests taking place around the country, and indeed around the world, in celebration of the 800th birth anniversary of the Sufi Master. Last nights event was a poetry reading and storytelling event held at the Goethe Institute in Johannesburg. I walked into the venue thinking, what an awesome place for a booklaunch ;) I was alone, of course, since all and sundry had backed out of the celebratory spirit. Perhaps a good and gladdened thing, since the experience was rather personal and self-conscious. Me time. And glad I am, for that moment of many reflections..

The orator, Ashley Ramsden is the acclaimed founding director of the School of Storytelling at Emerson College in the UK, and plied his trade alongside amiable music from a local guitarist/musician. Mostly, he aluded to the translations by Coleman Barks 'The Essential Rumi', but I could relate these rather easily to the more familiar pieces in the Mathnavi and mini translations of 'Whispers of the Beloved'.. Astounding accounts of Nazruddin and Hafiz added to the colour and emotion that weaved finery together with the words hanging overhead. Most were entranced as I was. Being somewhat transported back to the reason that I first encountered Rumi, erased a moment of conspiratory coincidence. So, with my bauble of memories a newfound treasure from the past, I am ready to trudge onward smiling happily about this little secret. A rediscovery, shall we say ;) All in the name of respiritedness.. and newness and growth..

With Love and Candlelight.. Like a Moth to the Flame.. Shafinaaz.

********************

To hold you with my eyes may turn you into thorn,
I will not do that..
To hold you with my thoughts may turn you into scorn,
I will not do that..
I will keep you on my breath
So you will become my life!

Rumi.