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Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 2693, in versions by Coleman Barks
and Kabir Helminski, and in a poetic translation by A.J. Arberry:
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"The Diver's Clothes Lying Empty"
You're sitting here with us, but you're also out walking
in a field at dawn. You are yourself
the animal we hunt when you come with us on the hunt.
You're in your body like a plant is solid in the ground,
yet you're wind. You're the diver's clothes
lying empty on the beach. You're the fish.
In the ocean are many bright strands
and many dark strands like veins that are seen
when a wing is lifted up.
Your hidden self is blood in those, those veins
that are lute strings that make ocean music,
not the sad edge of surf, but the sound of no shore.
-- Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Clothes Abandoned on the Shore"
Your body is here with us,
but your heart is in the meadow.
You travel with the hunters
though you yourself are what they hunt.
Like a reed flute,
you are encased by your body,
with a restless breathy sound inside.
You are a diver;
your body is just clothing left at the shore.
You are a fish whose way is through water.
In this sea there are many bright veins
and some that are dark.
The heart receives its light
from those bright veins.
If you lift your wing
I can show them to you.
You are hidden like the blood within,
and you are shy to the touch.
Those same veins sing a melancholy tune
in the sweet-stringed lute,
music from a shoreless sea
whose waves roar out infinity.
-- Version by Kabir Helminski
"Love is a Stranger"
Threshold Books, 1993
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In body you are with us, in heart you are in the meadow; you
are the quarry yourself when attached to the hunt.
You are girdled here in the body like a reed, inwardly you are
like a restless wind.
Your body is like the diver's clothes on the shore; you like a
fish, your course is in the water.
In this sea are many bright veins, many veins too that are dark
and black;
The brightness of the heart drives from those bright veins; you
will discern them when you lift your wings.
In those veins you are hidden like the blood, and if I lay a fin-
ger, you are shy.
From those veins the voice of the sweet-veined lute is melan-
choly, reflecting the face of that melancholy.
Those melodies come from the shoreless sea which thunders
like waves out of the infinite.
-- Translation by A.J. Arberry
"Mystical Poems of Rumi 2"
The University of Chicago Press, 1979
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