"I can’t be without you"

~

I can be without anyone
but not without you.
You twist my heart, dwell in my mind
and fill my eyes, you are my joy
I can't be without you.
You are my sleep, my rest, the water I drink.
You are my clarity, my dignity, my world
I can't be without you.
Sometimes you are kind, sometimes unfaithful,
you break my heart but
my love, my essence, do not go away
I can't be without you.
You are the head I am the feet
you are the hand, I am your banner
if you leave, I will perish
I can't be without you.
You have erased my image, taken my sleep
you've torn me away from everybody but
I can't be without you.
I find no joy in life or relief in death.
Why don't you say it too
I can't be without you.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 553
Translated by Azima Melita Kolin
and Maryam Mafi
Rumi: Hidden Music
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 2001

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2hxh2z

~

"I can’t be without you"

"Other wakefulness"

~

The more awake one is to the material world,
the more one is asleep to spirit.
When our soul is asleep to God,
other wakefulness closes the door of Divine grace.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Har keh bidârast dar khvâb-tar
hast bidâriyesh az khvâbash batar
Chun ba-Haqq bidâr na-bud jân-e mâ
hast bidâri cho dar bandân-e mâ

-- Mathnawi I:409-410
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/25vq2m

~

"Other wakefulness"

"Joyous spring has arrived"

~

Sunlight presents Ode 1121, in a poetic version by
Coleman Barks and in a translation by A.J. Arberry:

Spring, and no one can be still,
with all the messages coming through.

We walk outside as though going to meet visitors,
wild roses, trilliums by the water.

A tight knot loosens.
Something which died in December
lifts a head out,
and opens.

Trees, the tribe gathers!
Who has a chance
against such an elegant assemblage?

Before this power,
human beings are chives to be chopped,
gnats to be waved away.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"These Branching Moments,"
Copper Beech Press, 1988

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~

Joyous spring has arrived and the Beloved's message has come,
we are drunk with love and intoxicated and cannot be still.
O my darling one, go forth to the garden, do not leave the
beauties of the meadow in expectation.
Strangers from the Unseen have arrived in the meadow; go
forth, for it is a rule that "the newcomer is visited."*
Following your footsteps the rose has come into the rosebower,
to greet and meet you the thorn has become soft of cheek.
Cypress, give ear, for the lily in exposition of you has become
all tongue by the bank of the river.
The bud was tightly knotted; your grace looses knots; the rose
blossoms thanks to you, and scatters it petals over you.
You might say that it is the resurrection, that there have raised
their heads from the earth those who rotted in December and
January, the dead of yesteryear.
The seed which had died has now found life, the secret which
earth held has now become revealed.
The bough which held fruit is glorying for joy, the root which
had none is shamefast and ashamed.
After all, the trees of the spirit will become even so, the tree of
excellent boughs and fortunate will be manifest.
The king of spring has drawn up his army and made his
provisions; the jasmine has seized the shield, the green grass
Dhu `l-Faqar.
They say, "We will cut off the head of So-and-so like chives;
behold that visibly enacted in the handiwork of the Creator."
Yes; when the succour of divine assistance arrives, Nimrod is
brought to destruction by a gnat*.

--Translation by A. J. Arberry
"Mystical Poems of Rumi 1"
The University of Chicago Press, 1968

* Rumi quotes an Arabic rule of etiquette.
* Nimrod died of a gnat-bite, see Nicholson on Math. I:1189.

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2ajw6j

~

"Joyous spring has arrived"

"Behold the faithfulness of spring"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

The red rose, which tears its cloak to shreds -- I
for one know its motive.
The willow has let down its branches in straight
rows to make up for all the ritual prayers it has missed.
The lily with its sword and the jasmine with its
shield are preparing themselves for the holy war.
The poor nightingale- -how he suffers! He sighs
at the rose's display.
Each of the lovely brides in the garden says,
"The rose is glancing at me."
The nightingale replies, "The rose makes those
amorous gestures for my sake, headless and footless me!"
The plane-tree has lifted up its hands in
lamentation- -shall I tell you what supplications he makes?
Who put the hat on the bud's head? Who bent
the violet over double?
Although autumn was very cruel, behold the
faithfulness of spring!
Whatever autumn took in pillage, spring has
come and replaced.
I speak of roses, nightingales and the beauties of
the garden as a pretext -- why do I do it?
For the sake of Love's Jealousy -- at any rate, I
am describing God's graces.
The pride of Tabriz and the world, Shams al-
Din, has again shown me favor.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 1000
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/38ex3s

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"Behold the faithfulness of spring"

"Again, the season of Spring has come"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Again, the violet bows to the lily.
Again, the rose is tearing off her gown!

The green ones have come up from the other world,
tipsy like the breeze up to come new foolishness.

Again, near the top of the mountain
the anemone's sweet features appear.

The hyacinth speaks formally to the jasmine,
"Peace be with you." "And peace to you, lad!
Come walk with me in this meadow."

Again, there are sufis everywhere!

The bud is shy, but the wind removes
her veil suddenly, "My friend!"

The Friend is here like the water in the stream,
like a lotus on the water.

The narcissus winks at the wisteria,
"Whenever you say."

And the clove to the willow, "You are the one
I hope for." The willow replies, "Consider
these chambers of mine yours. Welcome!"

The apple, "Orange, why the frown?"
"So that those who mean harm
will not see my beauty."

The ringdove comes asking, "Where,
where is the Friend?"

With one note the nightingale
indicates the rose.

Again, the season of Spring has come
and a spring-source rises under everything,
a moon sliding from the shadows.

Many things must be left unsaid, because it's late,
but whatever conversation we haven't had
tonight, we'll have tomorrow.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 211
Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/3b2hov

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"Again, the season of Spring has come"

"Springtide is like the Messiah"

~

In ongoing celebration of the impending arrival of spring and
Nowrooz, today Sunlight offers Molana's Ghazal 2003, from the "Diwan-
e Shams-e Tabrizi", in a version by Coleman Barks, and in translation
by A.J. Arberry, with links to the Persian text and recitation:

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

SPRING IS CHRIST

Everyone has eaten and fallen asleep. The house is empty.
We walk out to the garden to let the apple meet the peach,
to carry messages between rose and jasmine.

Spring is Christ,
raising martyred palms from their shrouds.
Their mouths open in gratitude, wanting to be kissed.
The glow of the rose and the tulip means a lamp
is inside. A leaf trembles, I tremble
in the wind-beauty like silk from Turkestan.
The censer fans into flame.

This wind is the Holy Spirit.
The trees are Mary.
Watch how husband and wife play subtle games with their hands.
Cloudy pearls from Aden are thrown across the lovers,
as is the marriage custom.

The scent of Joseph's shirt comes to Jacob.
A red carnelian of Yemeni laughter is heard
by Muhammed in Mecca.

We talk about this and that. There's no rest
except on these branching moments.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco 1995
(Reprinted from Barks' volume,
"These Branching Moments")

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~

All have eaten and fallen asleep, and the house has become
empty; it is time for us to saunter forth to the garden.
To draw the skirt of the apple towards the peach, to carry a
few words from the dewy rose to the jasmine.
Springtide is like the Messiah, it is an art, a spell, that the
plant-martyrs may arise from their winding-sheets.
Since those fair idols opened their mouths in gratitude, the
soul not attaining a kiss is drunk with the perfume of their
mouths.
The glow on the cheeks of rose and tulip informs me that there
is a lamp hidden in this place under the screen.
The leaf trembles on the twig, and my heart is trembling; the
leaf trembles in the wind, my heart for the beauty of Kotan.*
The hand of the zephyr has fanned the censor till it taught
good manners to the children of the garden.
The breath of the Holy Spirit has encountered the trees of
Mary; see how husband and wife are playing with hands to-
gether [in joy].
The cloud, seeing the lovely ones beneath the canopy, scat-
tered over them jewels and pearls of Aden.*
Now that the red rose in joy has rent its shirt, the time has
come for the shirt to reach Jacob.*
Since the Yemeni carnelian of the Beloved's lips laughed, the
scent of God reaches Mohammad from Yemen.
We have spoken much at random, and our heart has not found
repose save upon the scattered tress of the King of the time.

-- Translation and footnotes by A. J. Arberry
"Mystical Poems of Rumi 2"
The University of Chicago Press, 1991

* Kotan: Chinese Turkestan which was proverbially known for its
beautiful inhabitants.
* Scattering coins over the head of the bride is still done in the
East.
* Jacob smelled from afar the perfume of Joseph's vest (Qur'an 12:94).

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/3dvc3q

~~Nowrooz Mobarak~~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"Springtide is like the Messiah"

"Spring is here, friends"

~

Today, Sunlight offers the first of a week of spring-themed
poems, celebrating both the changing of the season, and the Nowrooz
holiday. Nowrooz is the new year in Iran, Azerbaijan, Central Asia,
Afghanistan, Pakistan, parts of India and among the Kurds. The word
itself literally means "new day" in Persian, and the festival marks
the beginning of the solar year and new year on the Iranian calendar,
as well as among several other nationalities.

Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 1370, from Molana Rumi's
"Diwan-e Shams" ("The Collection of Shams"), in a version by
Coleman Barks, and in a second generation translation from Turkish,
by Nevit Ergin. Links to the Persian image and recitation may be
found at the end of the post.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

"The Whole Place Goes Up"

Today with Spring here finally we ought to be living
outdoors with our friends.
Let's go to those strangers in the field
and dance around them like bees from flower to flower,
building in the beehive air
our true hexagonal homes.

Someone comes in from outside saying,
"Don't play music just for yourselves."
Now we're tearing up the house like a drum,
collapsing walls with our pounding.
We hear a voice from the sky calling the lovers
and the odd, lost people. We scatter lives.
We break what holds us, each one a blacksmith
heating iron and walking to the anvil.
We blow on the inner fire.
With each striking we change.

The whole place goes up, all stability gone in smoke.
Sometimes high, sometimes low, we begin anywhere,
we have no method.
We're the bat swung by powerful arms.
Balls keep rolling from us, thousands of them underfoot.

Now we're still. Silence also is wisdom, a flame
hiding in cotton wool.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"Open Secret"
Threshold Books, 1984

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Spring is here, friends.
Let's stay in the garden
And be guests to the strangers of the green.

We'll fly from one flower to the other,
Like bees making the six corners
Of this earth's hives prosperous.

An envoy came from this fortress
And said, "Don't beat the drum secretly.
With our yells, we would tear down the place
Where that Love's drum is beating."

Hear that voice which comes from the sky,
"Rise, all insane ones.
I sacrifice my Soul to the insane.
Let's scatter our Soul today."

Let's break all the chains.
Every one of us is a blacksmith.
Let's go to the fireplace where the pincers are.

Let's fan the flame of the Heart's fire
Like the furnace of blacksmiths.
So we can have iron Hearts
Under our control with breath.

We'll put fire in this universe,
Incite riots in the sky,
Make his sober, resisting mind
Turn around, become dizzy like ours.

We are like a ball, without hands and feet,
Sometimes at the end
And sometimes at the beginning of the square.
Who told you we could do what we want?
Who told you we are independent?

No, no. We are like a club
In the hand of the Sultan.
We send hundreds of thousands of balls
To His feet.

Let's be silent. Silence is made
With some material like craziness.
His mind is such a fire
That we hide this fire by wrapping it in cotton.

-- Translation by Nevit O. Ergin
"Divan-i Kebir" -- Meter 1
Walla Walla, Washington: Current, 1995.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2po3x2

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

"Spring is here, friends"

"If there is no wall"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

The clear bead at the center changes everything.
There are no edges to my loving now.

I've heard it said there's a window that opens
from one mind to another,

but if there's no wall, there's no need
for fitting the window, or the latch.

-- Quatrain 511
Version by Coleman Barks
"Open Secret"
Threshold Books, 1984

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

His sweet water cleansed my soul
and removed its every sorrow.
Now we are joined in perfect union.

They say love opens a door
from one heart to another;
But if there is no wall
how can there be a door?

-- Version by Jonathan Star
"A Garden Beyond Paradise: The Mystical Poetry of Rumi"
Bantam Books, 1992

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2gdphf

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"If there is no wall"

"The Worker is hidden in the workshop"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

The Worker is hidden in the workshop:
enter the workshop if you want to see Him.
When the work weaves a veil over the Worker,
outside of that work you cannot see Him.
Since the workshop is where He is,
the one outside is unaware of Him.
So come into the workshop—that is to say,
nonexistence— and see
the work together with the Worker.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kâr-kon dar kâr-gah bâshad nehân
to be-raw dar kâr-gah binash `iyân
Kâr chon bar Kâr-kon pardeh tanid
khârej-e ân kâr na-tavânish did
Kâr-gah chon jâ-ye bâsh `âmelast
ânke birun ast az vay ghâfelast
Pas dar â dar kâr-gah ya`ni `adam
tâ be-bini son` o Sâne`-râ be-ham

-- Mathnawi II: 759-762
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/25qkw3

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"The Worker is hidden in the workshop"

"The Pattern Improves"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

The Pattern Improves

When love itself comes to kiss you,
don't hold back! When the king

goes hunting, the forest smiles.
Now the king has become the place

and all the players, prey, bystander,
bow, arrow, hand and release. How

does that feel? Last night's dream
enters these open eyes. When we die

and turn to dust, each particle will
be the whole. You hear a mote whirl

taking form? My music. Love, calm,
patient. The Friend has waded down

into existence, gotten stuck, and
will not be seen again outside of

this. We sometimes make spiderwebs
of smoke and salvia, fragile thought

packets. Leave thinking to the one
who gave intelligence. In silence

there is eloquence. Stop weaving
and watch how the pattern improves.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 922*
Version by Coleman Barks
"The Soul of Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 2001

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2umyyw

*Sunlight note: This ghazal is incorrectly cited by Barks as 924

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"The Pattern Improves"

"Open a window to God"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Listen, open a window to God
and begin to delight yourself
by gazing upon Him through the opening.

The business of love is
to make that window in the heart,
for the breast is illumined
by the beauty of the Beloved.

Gaze incessantly on the face of the Beloved!
Listen, this is in your power, my friend.

-- Mathnawi VI, 3095-3097
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/29tj9k

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"Open a window to God"

"In every breath"

~

^ ^ ^

in every breath
if you're the center
of your own desires
you'll lose the grace
of your beloved

but if in every breath
you blow away
your self claim
the ecstasy of love
will soon arrive

in every breath
if you're the center
of your own thoughts
the sadness of autumn
will fall on you

but if in every breath
you strip naked
just like a winter
the joy of spring
will grow from within

all your impatience
comes from the push
for gain of patience
let go of the effort
and peace will arrive

all your unfulfilled desires
are from your greed
for gain of fulfillments
let go of them all
and they will be sent as gifts

fall in love with
the agony of love
not the ecstasy
then the beloved
will fall in love with you

-- Ghazal (Ode) 323
Translation by Nader Khalili
"Rumi, Fountain of Fire"
Cal-Earth Press, 1994

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2fhjle

^ ^ ^

~

"In every breath"

"Walking Out of the Treasury Building"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Walking Out of the Treasury Building

Lord, the air smells good today, straight from the
mysteries within the inner courts of God.
A grace like new clothes thrown
across the garden, free medicine for everybody.
The trees in their prayer, the birds in praise,
the first blue violets kneeling.
Whatever came from Being is caught up in being,
drunkenly forgetting the way back.

One man turns and sees his birth
pulling separate from the others.
He fills with light, and colors change here.
He drinks it in, and everyone is wonderfully
drunk, shining with his beauty.
I can't really say that I feel the pain of others,
when the whole world seems so sweet.

Face to face with a lion, I grow leonine.
Walking out of the Treasury Building, I feel generous.
Anyone still sober in this weather must be afraid
of people, afraid what they'll say.
Enough talking. If we eat too much greenery,
we're going to smell like vegetables.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 805
Version by Coleman Barks
"Open Secret,"
Threshold Books, 1984

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2eyvz6

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"Walking Out of the Treasury Building"

"The fantasies of your slumber"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Many set out from the very spot
where the object of their quest is to be found.
The far sight and boasting of the sleeper is no use;
it is nothing but a fantasy — don't be caught by it.
You are sleepy, but at least sleep on the Way:
for God's sake, sleep on the Way of God,
that by chance a traveler on the Way may stumble upon you
and tear you from the fantasies of your slumber.
The sleeper dreams of the dire pangs of thirst,
while the water is nearer to him than the neck vein.*

~ ~ ~ ~

Bas kasâ `azmi be-jâyi mi konad
az maqâmi k-ân `arz dar vay bovad
Did o lâf-e khofteh mi na-âyad be-kâr
joz khayâli nist dast az vay be-dâr
Khvâbnâki lik ham bar râh khosp
Allâh Allâh bar rah-e Allâh khosp
Tâ bovad keh sâleki bar to zanad
az khayâlât-e no`âset bar konad
Khofteh mi binad `atash-hâ-ye shadid
âb aqrab minhu min habl al-warid*

*Qâf, 16

-- Mathnawi IV: 3234-3237; 3241
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra)

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2575ot

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"The fantasies of your slumber"

If you can only reflect like a clean mirror

~

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

if you can only reflect
like a clean mirror
you'll be that magical spirit

transmute from a wave
to an ocean
from an abyss
to surpass an angel

your soul and mine
used to be mingled
breathing as one
journeying as one

though you're in the limelight now
you must still kiss a candle
to feel the essence
to feel the light

-- Ghazal (Ode) 3264
Translated by Nader Khalili
"Rumi, Fountain of Fire"
Burning Gate Press, Los Angeles, 1994

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2avrfj

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

~

If you can only reflect like a clean mirror

“Go, seek the water!”

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Know that the outward form passes away,
but the world of reality remains forever.
How long will you play at loving the shape of the jug?
Leave the jug; go, seek the water!

~ ~ ~

Surat-e zâher fanâ gardad be-dân
`âlam-e ma`nâ be-mânad jâvedân
Chand bâzi `eshq bâ naqsh-e sabu
be-gozar az naqsh-e sabu raw âb ju

-- Mathnawi II:1020-1021
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/2g8top

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

“Go, seek the water!”

Thorn Witness

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Thorn Witness

Apparent shapes and meanings change.
Creature hunts down creature. Bales

get unloaded and weighed to determine
price. None of any of this pertains

to the unseen fire we call the Beloved.
That presence has no form, and cannot

be understood or measured. Take
your hands away from your face. If

a wall of dust moves across the plain,
there's usually an army advancing

under it. When you look for the Friend,
the Friend is looking for you. Carried

by a strong current, you and the others
with you seem to be making decisions,

but you're not. I weave coarse wool.
I decide to talk less. By my actions

cause nothing. A thorn grows next to
the rose as its witness. I am that

thorn for whom simply to be is an act
of praise. Near the rose, no shame.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 445
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin
"The Glance"
Viking-Penguin, 1999

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/287zzj

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Thorn Witness

"The Intellectual"

~

Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 1957, in versions by Helminski
and Barks, and in translation by A.J. Arberry:

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

"The Intellectual"

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 with people;
like water and oil, he remains apart.
The man who goes to the trouble
of giving advice to a lover
gets nothing. He's mocked by passion.
Love is like musk. It attracts attention.
Love is a tree, and lovers are its shade.

-- Version by Kabir Helminski
"Love is a Stranger"
Threshold Books, 1993

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~

An intellectual is all the time showing off.
Lovers dissolve and become bewildered.

Intellectuals try not to drown,
while the whole purpose of love
is drowning.
Intellectuals invent
ways to rest, and then lie down
in those beds.
Lovers feel ashamed
of comforting ideas.
Youve seen a glob
of oil on water? Thats how a lover
sits with intellectuals, there, but alone
in a circle of himself.
Some intellectual
tries to give sound advice to a lover.
All he hears back is, I love you.
I love you.
Love is musk. Dont deny it
when you smell the scent!
Love is a tree.
Lovers, the shade of the long branches.

To the intellectual mind, a child must learn
to grow up and be adult.
In the station of love,
you see old men getting younger and younger.

Shams chose to live low in the roots
for you. So now, he soars in the air
as your sublimely articulating love!

-- Version by Coleman Barks
(Developed from the translation by A. J. Arberry)
"Rumi: Like This"
Maypop, 1990

~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~

The intellectual is all the time engaged in showing off; the
lover is all
the time becoming unselfed and distraught.
Intellectuals are running away, afraid of drowning; the whole
business
and trade of love is drowning in the sea.
Intellectuals find repose by contriving repose; lovers think it a
shame
to be attached to repose.
The lover will be in a circle, alone from everyone, just as oil and
water, though in the same place, are separate.
The man who goes to the trouble of offering advice to lovers gets
nothing
for his pains but to be a mockery of passion.
Love has the scent of musk, it is therefore notorious; how can musk
escape such notoriety?
Love is like a tree, and lovers are the shade of that tree;
though the
shade fall afar, yet it must attend the tree.
For the station of intellect a child must become an old man; in the
station of love you see an old man become youthful.
Shams-e Tabrizi, whoever has chosen to be lowly in love for you,
thereby
rises to heights sublime as your love.

-- Translation by A.J. Arberry
"Mystical Poems of Rumi 2"
University of Chicago Press, 1979, 1991

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/yospjf

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

~

"The Intellectual"

"His Mercy veils the sinner many times"

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

When you have done wrong, be wary, don't be complacent,
for that evil is a seed God may cause to grow.
He covers it up for a while
and offers you a chance to feel sorrow and shame.
In the time of `Umar, that Prince of the Faithful
turned a thief over for punishment.
The thief cried out, "O Prince of the land,
this is my first offense, have mercy!"
"God forbid," said `Umar, "that the Merciful
should inflict punishment the first time.
His Mercy veils the sinner many times;
until His Justice can no longer be withheld.
At last both these attributes are displayed:
the former to bring hope and the latter to deter."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chonke bad kardi be-tars âmen ma-bâsh
zânke tokhm ast va be-ruyânad Khodâsh
Chand gâhi U be-pushânad keh tâ
âyadet ze ân bad pashimân o hayâ
`Ahd-e `Omar ân Amir-e Mo'menân
dâd dozd-râ be-jallâd o `evân
Bâng zad ân dozd k-"Ay Mir-e diyâr
avvalin bârast jormam zinhâr"
Goft `Omar "Hâsha lillâh keh Khodâ
bâr-e avval qahr bârad dar jazâ
Bâr-hâ pushad pay-e ez'hâr Fazl
bâz girad az pay-e ez'hâr `adl
Tâ keh in har do sefat zâher shavad
ân mobashsher gardad in monzer shavad"

-- Mathnawi IV:165-171
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyل Monastra)

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/25kvzs

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"His Mercy veils the sinner many times"

His kisses leave their mark

~

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

That thieving Heart-ravisher gave me a kiss and
went! What would have happened if instead of one He had
given me six or seven?
Every lip He kisses bears its marks: It splits and
cracks from His lips' sweetness.
Another mark is that mad desire for the lip of
the Water of Life makes Love stir up a thousand fires and
furnaces every instant.
Still another mark is that the body, like the
heart, runs after that kiss with haste and speed.
It becomes slender and delicate like the Friend's
lips--how marvellous! Slenderness from the fire of a boundless
Beloved!

-- Ghazal (Ode) 419
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

The media:
http://tinyurl.com/ystwth

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

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His kisses leave their mark