Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 314, in a version by Coleman
Barks, and in translations by by Kolin and Mafi, and by A.J. Arberry:
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.
If you want to improve your mind that way,
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
-- Version by Coleman Barks
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You who possess not Love, it is lawful to you – sleep on; be
gone, for Love and Love's sorrow is our portion – sleep on.
We have become motes of the sun of sorrow for the Beloved;
you in whose heart this passion has never arisen, sleep on.
In endless quest of union with Him we hurry like a river, you
who are not anguished by the question "Where is He?" – sleep on.
Love's path is outside the two and seventy sects; since your
love and way is mere trickery and hypocrisy, sleep on.
His dawn-cup is our sunrise, his crepuscule our supper, you
whose yearning is for viands and whose passion is for supper,
In quest of the philosopher's stone we are melting like copper,
you whose philosopher's stone is the bolster and bedfellow,
Like a drunkard you are falling and rising on every side, for
night is past and now is the time for prayer; sleep on.
Since fate has barred slumber to me, young man, be gone; for
sleep has passed you by and you can now fulfil slumber; sleep on.
We have fallen into Love's hand – what will Love do? Since
you are in your own hand, depart to the right hand – sleep on.
I am the one who drinks blood; my soul, you are the one who
eats viands; since viands for certainty demand slumber, sleep
I have abandoned hope for my brain and my head too; you
aspire to a fresh and juicy brain – sleep on.
I have rent the garment of speech and let words go; you who
are not naked, possess a robe – sleep on.
-- Translation by A. J. Arberry
"Mystical Poems of Rumi 1"
The University of Chicago Press, 1968
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Those of you who feel no love
Those of you who do not feel the sorrow of love
in whose heart has never risen
Those who do not long for union
who are not constantly asking, 'Where is He?'
Love's path is outside of all religious sects
if trickery and hypocrisy is your way
If you don't melt like copper in your quest
for the alchemical gold
If like a drunkard you fall left and right
unaware the night has passed and it's time for prayer
Fate has taken my sleep but since
it has not taken yours, young man
We have fallen into love's hands
since you are in your own
I am the one who is drunk on Love
since you are drunk on food
I have given up my head and have nothing more to say
but you can wrap yourself in the robe of words and
-- Translation by Azima Melita Kolin
and Maryam Mafi
Rumi: Hidden Music
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 2001
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