[Sunlight] I am the sharer of your secrets – Ghazal 1515

~

Here, Sunlight presents Ode 1515, in translations by
Nader Khalili and A.J. Arberry:

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

how very close
is your soul with mine
i know for sure
everything you think
goes through my mind

i am with you
now and doomsday
not like a host
caring for you
at a feast alone

with you i am happy
all the times
the time i offer my life
or the time
you gift me your love

offering my life
is a profitable venture
each life i give
you pay in turn
a hundred lives again

in this house
there are a thousand
dead and still souls
making you stay
as this will be yours

a handful of earth
cries aloud
i used to be hair or
i used to be bones

and just the moment
when you are all confused
leaps forth a voice
hold me close
i'm love and
i'm always yours

-- Translation by Nader Khalili
"Rumi -- Fountain of Fire"
Cal-Earth Press, 1994

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

How close your soul is to my soul! For whatever thing you are
thinking, I know.
I have a token even closer than this; come close, and behold
my token.
In dervish guise you come into the midst; do not jest and say,
"I am in the midst."
I am like the column amidst your house; I am like a water-
spout hanging down from your roof.
I am a sharer of your secrets on the day of mustering and
resurrection, I am not a passing host like worldly friends.
In your banquet I go round like the wine, in time of your
battle I go before you like a lance.
If like lightning I make a trade of dying, like the lightning of
your beauty I am without a tongue.
Always I am joyful; it makes no difference whether I yield my
soul, or seize a soul.
If I give you my soul, it will be good trade, for in exchange for
a soul you will give me a hundred worlds.
In this house thousands and more are dead; there you are
seated saying, "Behold my household!"
A handful of dust says, "I was once a tress"; another says, "I am
a bone."
You become bewildered; then suddenly Love comes saying, "I
will deliver you this very instant from yourself."
Silence, Khusrau, speak no more of Shirin; my mouth is
burning with sweetness.*

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

* A play on "Shirin" and "shirini" (sweetness).

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

~




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[Sunlight] I am the sharer of your secrets – Ghazal 1515

[Sunlight] "The Waterwheel" – Ghazal 359

~

Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 359, from Rumi's "Diwan-e Shams",
in an interpretive version by Coleman Barks, and in the translation by A.J.
Arberry, upon which Barks based his interpretation:

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

"The Waterwheel"

In this river the soul is a waterwheel
that no matter how it's facing, water pours
through turning, re-turning to the river.

Even if you put your side
or your back to the river,
water still comes through.

A shadow can't ignore the sun
that all day creates and moves it!

The soul lives like a drop of mercury
in the palm of a palsied man.

Or say the soul is the moon,
that every thirty nights has two
so empty, in union, that it disappears.

The other twenty-eight nights it endures
different stages of separation,
wretched, but laughing.

Laughter is the way of lovers.
They live and die tickled,

and always fresh-faced, knowing
the return that's coming.

Don't question this! The answers
and your questions in response

will cause your eyes to see wrongly.
Live the laughing silence.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"Say I am You"
Maypop, 1994

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

In this river the heart is like a ruined waterwheel; in which-
ever direction it turns, there is water before it;
And even if you turn your back to the water, the water runs
hurrying before you.
How shall the shadow save its soul from the sun, seeing that its
soul is in the hand of the sun?
If the shadow stretches forth its neck, the sun's face that in-
stant is shrouded.
Brave Sun, before which this sun in heaven quivers with fear
like quicksilver!
The moon is like quicksilver on a palsied palm-- one night
only, and for the rest it is poured forth;
In every thirty nights, two nights it is united and lean, for the
rest it endures separation, and separation is torture.*
Though it is wretched, it is fresh of face; laughter is the habit
and wont of lovers.
It lives laughing, and likewise dies laughing, for its return is to
laughing fortune.
Keep silent, for the faults of vision always come from question
and answer.

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

* The idea seems to be that the moon's occultation is during union
with the sun; the terms "united" and "separation" belong to the tech-
nical vocabulary of Sufism.


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

~



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[Sunlight] "The Waterwheel" – Ghazal 359

[Sunlight] "Wasn't it first merely a thought?"

~

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

Even though you're not equipped,
keep searching:
equipment isn't necessary on the way to the Lord.
Whoever you see engaged in search,
become her friend and cast your head in front of her,
for choosing to be a neighbor of seekers,
you become one yourself;
protected by conquerors,
you will yourself learn to conquer.
If an ant seeks the rank of Solomon,
don't smile contemptuously upon its quest.
Everything you possess of skill, and wealth and handicraft,
wasn't it first merely a thought and a quest?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Garcheh âlat nistet to mi talab
nist âlat hâjat andar râh-e Rabb
Harke-râ bini talab-gâr ay pesar
yâr-e u shaw pish-e u andâz sar
Kaz jevâr-e tâlebân tâleb shavi
vaz zelâl-e ghâlebân ghâleb shavi
Gar yeki muri Solaymân be-jost
ma-negar andar jostan-e u sost sost
Harcheh dâri to ze mâl o pisheh-'i
nah talab bud avval va andisheh-'i?

-- Mathnawi III: 1445-1449
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~



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[Sunlight] "Wasn't it first merely a thought?"

[Sunlight] “Pay attention, don't stir up the water”

~

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

The human being is like the water of the river:
when it becomes turbid, you can't see to the bottom.
The bottom of the river is full of jewels and pearls:
pay attention, don't stir up the water,
for originally it's pure and free from pollution.
The human spirit resembles the atmosphere:
when air is mixed with dust, it veils the sky,
and prevents the eye from seeing the sun;
but when the dust is gone, the air once again becomes pure.
Despite your complete darkness, God may offer you visions,
that you might find the way of deliverance.

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

Zânkeh mardom hast hamchon âb-e ju
chon shavad tireh na-bini qa`r-e u
Qa`r-e ju por-e gawharast o por ze dorr
hin ma-kon tireh keh hast u sâf horr
Jân-e mardom hast mânand havâ
chon be-gard âmikht shod pardeh-ye samâ
Mâne` âmad u ze did-e âftâb
chonkeh gardesh raft shod sâfi o nâb
Bâ kamâl-e tiregi Haqq vâqe`ât
mi namudet tâ ravi râh-e najât

-- Mathnawi IV: 2482-2386
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

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

~




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[Sunlight] “Pay attention, don't stir up the water”

[Sunlight] You'll not find another friend like me – Ghazal 3050

~

Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 3050, from the Divan-e Shams, in a
translation by Jonathan Star, a version by Coleman Barks, and in the
translation by A.J. Arberry, from which Prof. Barks developed his
version:

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

Lord of Beauty, Lord of Grace,
Enter my soul
like one who enters a garden in bloom.

One glance from you and stones turn to rubies.
One hint from you
and every goal is within reach.

Come, come, you are the life and salvation of man.
Come, come, you are the eye and light of Joseph.
Touch my head
for your touch removes
the darkness of the body.

Come, come, for you bestow beauty and grace.
Come, come, for you are the cure of a thousand ills.
Come, come, even though you have never left –
come and hear some poetry.
Sit in the place of my soul,
for you are a thousand souls of mine.

Begone with your cares and your ancient longings –
you are the Beloved!

If the King did not sit
on the throne of this world
There would be darkness and confusion.

You are joyous and alive by His breath.
You move by the power of His love.
Now, like an artist, you create.
Now, like a servant, you sweep the floor.

Everything you touch
will reach its goal
and fly with the wings of an angel . . .
But wings cannot carry you to God.
Like the mule that carried the Prophet,
Only love can carry you there.

-- Translation by Jonathan Star
"Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved"
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997

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

The Lord of Beauty enters the soul
as a man walks into an orchard
in Spring.
Come into me
that way again!
Light the lamp
in the eye of Joseph. Cure Jacob's
sadness. Though you never left,
come and sit down here and ask,
"Why are you so confused?"

Like a fresh idea in an artist's mind,
you fashion things before they come into being.

You sweep the floor like the man
who keeps the doorway.
When you brush
a form clean, it becomes
what it truly is.

You guard Your Silence perfectly
like a waterbag that doesn't leak.

You live where Shams lives,
because your heart-donkey was strong enough
to take you there.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"Like This"
Maypop, 1990

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

The lord of beauty and quintessence of
loveliness entered the soul and mind as a man will
stroll in the garden in spring.
Come, come, for you are the life and salvation
of men; come, come, for you are the eye and lamp
of Joseph.
Lay foot on my water and clay, for through
your foot darkness and veiledness depart from
water and clay.
Through your glow stones turn to rubies,
through your searching the searcher reaches his
goal.
Come, come, though you have never departed,
but I speak every word to you for a desired end.
Sit in the place of my soul, for you are a
thousand times my soul; slay your paramour and
lover, for you are the Beloved.
If the king is not the king of the world, O
melancholy world, by His life I bid you say, "Why
are you in confusion?"
Now you are gay and fresh with His green
banner, and now you are overtuned by the heart of
His army of battle.
Now, like the thought of an artist, you
fashion forms; now you sweep carpets like the
room of the porter.
When you sweep a form, you give its
quintessence angelhood, and the wings and pinions
of the cherubim.
Silence, guard the water strictly like a water-
bag, for if you sprinkle it through a crack, know that
you are at fault.
Your heart has reached Shams, the Pride of
Tabriz, because the Doldol* of the heart proved itself
a nimble mount.

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

* "Doldol" was the name of a mule ridden by Ali.

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

~



------------------------------------

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[Sunlight] You'll not find another friend like me – Ghazal 3050

[Sunlight] Burning with longing fire -- Quatrain 1133

~

Today, Sunlight offers two interpretations
of Quatrain 1133:

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

Burning with longing fire,
wanting to sleep with my head on your doorsill,
my living is composed only of this trying
to be in your presence.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"Unseen Rain"
Threshold Books, 1986

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

i seek fire
that's my longing for you
i seek a way out
that's how i'm at your door
i'm sick and tired
of being so unhappy
only you can show me
the time of my life

--Translation by Nader Khalili
Rumi, Dancing the Flame
Cal-Earth Press, 2001

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

~


------------------------------------

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[Sunlight] Burning with longing fire -- Quatrain 1133

[Sunlight] “He alone”

~

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

He alone has the right to break,
for He alone has the power to mend.

He that knows how to sew together
knows how to tear apart.

Whatever He sells, He buys
something better in exchange.

He lays the house in ruins;
then in a moment
He make it more liveable than before.

-- Mathnawi I, 3882-3886
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Inasmuch as His hand binds what is broken, it follows that
His breaking is assuredly mending.
If thou break it, He will say to thee, "Come, make it whole
(again)"; and thou hast neither hand nor foot (thou art
helpless).
Therefore He (alone) has the right to break, for He (alone)
can mend what has been broken.
He that knows how to sew (together) knows how to tear
(asunder); whatsoever He sells, He buys (something) better (in
exchange).
He lays the house in ruins, upside down; then in one moment
He makes it more habitable (than it was before).

-- Mathnawi I, 3882-3886
From The Mathnawi of Jalalu'ddin Rumi
Translation and Commentary by Reynold A. Nicholson
Published and Distributed by The Trustees of
The "E.J.W. Gibb Memorial"

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

~


------------------------------------

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[Sunlight] “He alone”

[Sunlight] A Man Talking to His House – Ghazal 1134

~

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

A Man Talking to His House

I say that no one in this caravan is awake
and that while you sleep, a thief is stealing

the signs and symbols of what you thought
was your life. Now you're angry with me for

telling you this! Pay attention to those who
hurt your feelings telling you the truth.

Giving and absorbing compliments is like
trying to paint on water, that insubstantial.

Here is how a man once talked with his house.
"Please, if you're ever about to collapse,

let me know. " One night without a word the
house fell. "What happened to our agreement?"

The house answered, "Day and night I've been
telling you with cracks and broken boards and

holes appearing like mouths opening. But you
kept patching and filling those with mud, so

proud of your stopgap masonry. You didn't
listen." This house is your body always

saying, I'm leaving; I'm going soon. Don't
hide from the one who knows the secret. Drink

the wine of turning toward God. Don't examine
your urine. Examine instead how you praise,

what you wish for, this longing we've been
given. Fall turns pale light yellow wanting

spring, and spring arrives! Seeds blossom.
Come to the orchard and see what comes

to you, a silent conversation with your soul.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 1134
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin
"The Glance"
Viking-Penguin, 1999

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

~



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[Sunlight] A Man Talking to His House – Ghazal 1134

[Sunlight] "O Master, Come Here!" -- Ghazal 36

~

Today, Sunlight offers two presentations of Ghazal (Ode) 36 - a
version by Jonathan Star, and a translation by Azima Melita Kolin and
Maryam Mafi:

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

"O Master, Come Here!"


O master, come here!
O master, come here!

O lost lover,
enchanted by the universe, come here!
O heart ever-thirsty,
O righteous king, come here!

You are the feet, you are the hands,
you are the life of all that lives;
Drunken flight of the nightingale,
toward this garden - come here!

You are the ears, the eyes,
and the senses beyond.
You are the wanderer without food -
To this banquet, come here!

You are hidden from view,
and all that is seen
Dancing carefree -
come here!

You are the light of day,
the joy of love,
the searing pain of sorrow.
O night-glow of the moon,
Cloud of sweet dew, come here!

O wisdom of all worlds,
knower of all knowledge,
At times you are here,
At times you are gone;
Now rise up and stay forever.

O blood-stained heart
your jubilee and madness are over -
the grapes have turned to wine.
Please, no more tears, just come here!

O sleepless nights, begone.
O needless sorrow, begone.
O tired intellect, begone.
To that awakened land, come here!

O weary heart, come here,
O wounded soul, come here;
And if the doorway is blocked,
Through the wall, come here!

O beauty of Noah, come here,
O longing of the soul, come here,
O cure for the weary, come here,
O medicine for the sick, come here.

O face of shining moonlight, come here,
O waters of the heart, come here,
O happiness of lovers, come here,
O blindness of fools, come here.

O voice of the soul . . .
Enough! The tongue is getting tired.

Without another breath,
Without another word, come!

-- Ghazal 36
Version by Jonathan Star, from
a translation by Shahram Shiva
"A Garden Beyond Paradise: The Mystical Poetry of Rumi"
Bantam Books, 1992

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

Come my Master, come don't turn away from me,
come my deceitful Moon!
Look at this forlorn and thirsty lover,
come my drunken King!
You are my life, my senses, you are everything!
Be the rising Moon in my dark nights
I am thirsty for your light.
Use my hands, look through my eyes,
listen with my ears.
You are the soul of every living thing.
Come, come back dancing like the rays of the Sun
And chase away the shadows.
You are the banner of the New World
and the mind is at your feet.
Come back my love
my broken heart cannot bear more passion,
no more promises.

-- Translation by Azima Melita Kolin
and Maryam Mafi
"Rumi: Hidden Music"
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 2001

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

~



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[Sunlight] "O Master, Come Here!" -- Ghazal 36

[Sunlight] “Flames from that wine” – Ghazal 2395

~

Today, Sunlight offers three presentations of Ghazal (Ode) 2395,
from Molana Rumi's "Diwan-e Shams" -- a version by Coleman Barks, and
translations by Annemarie Schimmel and A.J. Arberry:

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

My love wanders the rooms, melodious,
flute-notes, plucked wires,
full of wine the Magi drank
on the way to Bethlehem.

We are three. The moon comes
from its quiet corner, puts a pitcher of water
down in the center. The circle
of surface flames.

One of us kneels to kiss the threshold.

One drinks, with wine-flames playing over his face.

One watches the gathering,

and says to any cold onlookers,

This dance is the joy of existence.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"We Are Three"
Maypop, 1987

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

I saw my Beloved wandering about the house:
He had taken up a rebeck and was playing a tune.
With a touch like fire he was playing a sweet melody,
Drunken and distraught and bewitching from the night's
carouse.
He was invoking the cup-bearer in the mode of Iraq:
Wine was his object, the cup-bearer was only an excuse.
The beauteous cup-bearer, pitcher in hand,
Stepped forth from a recess and placed it in the middle.
He filled the first up with that sparkling wine-
Didst thou ever see water set on fire?
For the sake of those in love he passed it from hand to hand,
Then bowed and kissed the lintel.
My Beloved received it from him, and quaffed the wine:
Instantly o'er his face and head ran flashes of flame.
Meanwhile he was regarding his own beauty and saying to the
evil eye:
"there has not been nor will be in this age another like me.
I am the Divine sun of the world, I am the Beloved of the
lovers,
Soul and spirit are continually moving before me."

-- Translation by Annemarie Schimmel
"The Triumphal Sun"
SUNY, 1993

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

I saw my sweetheart wandering about the house; he had
taken a rebec and was playing a melody.
With a plectrum like fire he was playing a sweet melody,
drunken and dissolute and charming from the Magian wine.
He was invoking the saqi* in the air of Iraq*; 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 the 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

*"Saqi" - "Cupbearer" or "Winebearer", bringing metaphorical,
intoxicating "wine". Usually depicted in traditional Persian
miniatures as a beautiful young woman with a jug of wine. --
Sunlight Ed.

*The air of Iraq is a Persian tune. -- Arberry

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

~


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[Sunlight] “Flames from that wine” – Ghazal 2395

[Sunlight] Sunlight washes a dark face -- Ghazal 3438

~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Light again, and the one who brings light!
Change the way you live!

From the ocean vat, wine fire in each cup!
Two or three of the long dead wake up.
Two or three drunks become lion hunters.

Sunlight washes a dark face.
The flower of what's true opens in the face.
Meadowgrass and garden ground grow damp again.
A strong light like fingers massages our heads.
No dividing these fingers from those.

Draw back the lock bolt.
One level flows into another.
Heat seeps into everything.
The passionate pots boil.
Clothing tears into the air.
Poets fume shreds of steam,
never so happy as out in the light.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 3438
Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
Castle Books, 1997

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

~



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[Sunlight] Sunlight washes a dark face -- Ghazal 3438

[Sunlight] “Violence is not the means”

~

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

Violence is not the means of avoiding calamity:
the means is good will, tolerance, and kindness.
The Prophet said, "Alms is a means of averting calamity:
cure your diseased ones by giving alms, O youth."

` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `

Chareh-ye daf`-e balâ na-bud setam
châreh ehsân bâshad o `afv o karam
Goft "al-Sadaqah maradd lil-balâ
dâwi mardâka bi-sadaqah yâ fatâ"

-- Mathnawi VI:2590-2591
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~



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[Sunlight] “Violence is not the means”

[Sunlight] “That beauty is a borrowed thing”

~

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

Anyone madly in love with a dead thing has hope for
something that lives.
The carpenter has turned toward wood in hope of
serving a moon-faced beloved.
Strive in the hope of a Living One who does not become
inanimate after a day or two!
Choose not a mean companion out of meanness, for
intimacy with him is but a borrowed thing.
If your intimates other than God possess faithfulness,
what happened to your father and mother?
If you can depend on someone other than God, where
are your nursemaid and tutor?
Your intimacy with milk and breasts has gone, your
dread of grammar school has gone.
That was a ray upon the wall of their existence:
The radiance has returned to the Sun.
When that ray falls upon something, you become its
lover, oh courageous man!
Whatever you love in existence has received a gold
plating from God's Attributes.
When the gold returns to its origin and the copper
remains, your nature becomes disgusted and divorces it.
Pull yourself back from those things gold-plated with
His Attributes, continue not in your ignorance to call the
counterfeit coin "beautiful."
That beauty of the counterfeit coin is a borrowed
thing; beneath its comeliness lies the substance of
uncomeliness.
Gold leaves the surface of the counterfeit coin for the
Mine – you also, go to that Mine where it is going!
Light goes from the wall to the Sun - go to the Sun that
always moves in proportion!
From now on take water from heaven for you have
seen no faithfulness from the drainpipe!

-- Mathnawi III: 545-560
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

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

~



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[Sunlight] “That beauty is a borrowed thing”

[Sunlight] Existence and Nonexistence

~

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

Moment by moment you await understanding and spiritual perception,
peace and good to arrive from nonexistence.
Nonexistence, then, is God's factory
from which He continually produces goods.
He has caused what is nonexistent to appear magnificently existent,
while the truly existent He has caused to appear as nonexistent.
He has hidden the Sea, yet made the foam visible;
He has concealed the Wind, but displayed the dust.
The dust whirls in the air higher than a minaret:
does it rise by itself? You see the dust borne high,
but the Wind you don't see, although you can surmise it.
You see the white-capped waves tumbling in every direction,
but without the Sea the foam has no way to move.
You see the foam by sense perception and the Sea by induction:
just as speech is manifest and thought is hidden.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dam be-dam az nisti to montazer
keh biyâbi fahm o zawq, ârâm o berr
Pas khazâneh-ye son`-e Haqq bâshad `adam
keh bar ârad zu `atâ-hâ dam be-dam
Nist-râ be-namud hast o mohtashem
hast-râ be-namud bar shakl-e `adam
Bahr-râ pushid o kaf kard âshkâr
bâd-râ pushid o be-namudet ghobâr
Chon manâreh-ye khâk pichân dar havâ
khâk az khvod chon bar âyad bar `alâ
Khâk-râ bini be-bâlâ ay `alil
bâd-râ ni joz beh-ta`rif-e dalil
Kaf hami bini ravâneh har taraf
kaf bi daryâ na-dârad monsaraf
Kaf be-hess bini o daryâ az dalil
fekr panhân âshkârâ qâl o qil

-- Mathnawi V:1022; 1024; 1026-1031
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~



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[Sunlight] Existence and Nonexistence

[Sunlight] “I am That” -- Quatrain 276

~

Today, Sunlight offers an interpretation of Quatrain 276:

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

The marvelous sound
That comes from the sky – I am That.
The sweet fragrance
That comes from the garden – I am That.

The great beauty
That comes from the heart and soul
Until I leave . . . Wait!
I can't leave – I am That.

-- Version by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva
A Garden Beyond Paradise
Bantam Books, 1992

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

~



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[Sunlight] “I am That” -- Quatrain 276

[Sunlight] Childhood Friends

~

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

Childhood Friends

You may have heard, it's the custom
for Kings to let warriors stand on
the left, the side of the heart, and
courage. On the right, they put the
Chancellor, and various secretaries,
because the practice of bookkeeping
and writing usually belongs to the
right hand.

In the center, the Sufis, because in
meditation they become mirrors.
The King can look at their faces
and see his original state.

Give the beautiful ones mirrors,
and let them fall in love with
themselves.

That way they polish their souls
and kindle remembering in others.

A close childhood friend once came
to visit Joseph. They had shared the
secrets that children tell each other
when they're lying on their pillows
at night before they go to sleep.
These two were completely truthful
with each other.

The friend asked, "What was it like
when you realized your brothers were
jealous and what they planned to do?"

"I felt like a lion with a chain around
its neck. Not degraded by the chain, and
not complaining, but just waiting for my
power to be recognized."

"How about down in the well, and in
prison? How was it then?"

"Like the moon when it's getting
smaller, yet knowing the fullness to
come. Like a seed pearl ground in the
mortar for medicine, that knows it will
now be the light of the human eye.

Like a wheat grain that breaks open in
the ground, then grows, then gets
harvested, then crushed in the mill for
flour, then baked, then crushed again
between teeth to become a person's
deepest understanding.

Lost in Love, like songs the planters
sing the night after they sow the seed."

There is no end to any of this.
Back to something else the good man
and Joseph talked about.

"Ah my friend, what have you brought me?
You know a traveler should not arrive
empty handed at the door of a friend
like me. That's going to the grinding
stone without your wheat. God will ask
at the Resurrection, 'Did you bring Me
a present? Did you forget? Did you think
you wouldn't see Me?'

Joseph kept teasing,
"Lets have it. I want my gift!"

The guest began, "You can't imagine how
I've looked for something for you.
Nothing seemed appropriate. You don't
take gold down into a goldmine, or a
drop of water to the Sea of Oman!

Everything I thought of was like
bringing cumin seed to Kirmanshah where
cumin comes from.

You have all seeds in your barn. You
even have my love and my soul, so I
can't even bring those.

I've brought you a mirror. Look at
yourself, and remember me."

He took the mirror out from his robe
where he was hiding it.

What is the mirror of being?
Non-being.

Always bring a mirror of non-existence
as a gift. Any other present is foolish.

Let the poor man look deep into
generosity. Let the bread see a hungry
man. Let kindling behold a spark from
the flint.

An empty mirror and your worst
destructive habits, when they are held
up to each other,
that's when the real making begins.
That's what art and crafting are.

A tailor needs a torn garment to
practice his expertise. The trunks of
trees must be cut and cut again
so they can be used for fine carpentry.

Your doctor must have a broken leg to
doctor. Your defects are the ways that
glory gets manifested. Whoever sees
clearly what's diseased in himself
begins to gallop on the Way.

There is nothing worse
than thinking you are well enough.
More than anything, self-complacency
blocks the workmanship.

Put your vileness up to a mirror and
weep. Get that self-satisfaction flowing
out of you! Satan thought, "I am better
than Adam," and that *better than* is
still strongly in us.

Your stream-water may look clean,
but there's unstirred matter on the
bottom. Your Sheikh can dig a side
channel that will drain that waste off.

Trust your wound to a Teacher's surgery.
Flies collect on a wound. They cover it,
those flies of your self-protecting
feelings, your love for what you think
is yours.

Let a teacher wave away the flies
and put a plaster on the wound.

Don't turn your head. Keep looking at
the bandaged place. That's where the
light enters you.

And don't believe for a moment
that you're healing yourself.

-- Mathnawi, I, 3150-3175, 3192-3227
Version by Coleman Barks
(Developed from the translation by Nicholson)
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995

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

~



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[Sunlight] Childhood Friends

[Sunlight] The sign of intimate friendship

~

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

It is a sign of intimate friendship
when speech flows freely from the heart;
without intimacy, the flow is blocked.
When the heart has seen the sweetheart,
how can it remain bitter?
When a nightingale has seen the rose,
how can it keep from singing?

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

Jush-e notq az del neshân-e dustist
bastegi-ye notq az bi olfatist
Del keh delbar did kay mânad torosh
bolboli gol did kay manad khamosh

-- Mathnawi VI:2638-2639
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra


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

~



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[Sunlight] The sign of intimate friendship

[Sunlight] Blessed Laughter

~

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

When you go to buy a pomegranate,
pick the one that's laughing,
that has its rind cleft,
so that through its broken-open-ness
you get some information
about the seeds.
Listen for the laughter
that shows the inside,
that cracks the casket-shell
and lets you see the pearl.
There's another kind, an unhappy laughing
like the red anemone's that shows
its inner blackness.
But pomegranate-laughter is blessed,
like the companionship of good people.
Even if you're a common rock,
when you join them,
you'll become a precious stone.
Keep the love of holy laughing in you.
Don't visit sad neighborhoods. Let
laughter lead you to the right people.
Your body-wantings will take you out of the sunlight
into dark and dank places. Feed on the conversation
of a lover. Look for spiritual growth from one
who is farther along than you.

There was once a Christian gospel
that had in it some mention of Muhammed,
his courage and his fasting.
Whenever a group of Christians studied
this gospel, they bowed and kissed the words
of that passage. Without knowing it,
they were looking for refuge
inside that light, and with its power
it befriended and helped them.

-- Mathnawi, I, 718-733
Version by Coleman Barks
"Feeling the Shoulder of the Lion"
Threshold Books, 1991

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

~



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[Sunlight] Blessed Laughter

[Sunlight] “Every effort finer than the one before”

~

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

If you scrutinize the labor of those who follow falsehood,
you'll see that it stinks—
layer upon layer, like an onion—
every effort more pithless than the next.
While with the sincere,
every effort is finer than the one before.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Gar be-kâvi kushesh-e ahl-e majâz
tu be-tu gandeh bud hamchon piyâz
Har yeki az yekdigar bi maghz-tar
sâdeqân-râ yek ze digar naghz-tar

-- Mathnawi II: 2900-2901
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

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

~


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[Sunlight] “Every effort finer than the one before”

[Sunlight] Where is the knowing, nimble Minstrel of Love – Ghazal 127

~

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

Where is the knowing, nimble Minstrel of Love -
He who plays only for Love, accepting no one's request?

I have died hoping for Him but have not seen Him;
I have entered the grave in my desire.

Oh dear friend, if you have seen Him, how
good for you! Oh friend, indeed, how good for you!

But if He is hidden like Khidr*,
alone upon the shores of the sea,

Then oh wind, take our salaam to Him! For my
heart is in tumult over Him.

I know that burning salaams take lovers to their
Beloved.

Love makes the millwheel of the heavens spin, not water;
Love makes the moon go forward, not feet.

In remembrance, the millwheel of spirits begins
to turn through the water of the eyes.

Remembrance is the noose of union with the Beloved -
be silent, for madness has begun to boil.

-- Ghazal 127
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

*"Hidden like Khidr" -- Khidr is one of the four prophets whom the
Islamic tradition recognizes as being `alive' or`immortal', the other
three being Idris (Enoch), Ilyas (Elias), and `Isa (Jesus). Khidr
is immortal because he drank from the water of life. In Sufi
tradition, Khidr has come to be known as one of the afrâd, those
"who receive illumination direct from God without human mediation."
He is the hidden initiator of those who walk the mystical path like
some of those from the Uwaisi tariqa.

-- Derived by Sunlight from http://www.khidr.org

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

~



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[Sunlight] Where is the knowing, nimble Minstrel of Love – Ghazal 127

[Sunlight] “The Beloved has entered to tend me”

~

Today, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 2110, from Rumi's "Diwan-e
Shams" ("The Collection of Shams"), in a version by Coleman Barks,
and in translation by A.J. Arberry:

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

Bonfire at Midnight

A shout comes out of my room
where I've been cooped up.
After all my lust and dead living
I can still live with you.
You want me to.
You fix and bring me food.
You forget the way I've been.

The ocean moves and surges in the heat
of the middle of the day, in the heat
of this thought I'm having.
Why aren't all human resistances burning up
with this thought?

It's a drum and arms waving.
It's a bonfire at midnight
on the top edge of a hill,
this meeting again with you.

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

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

A cry went up from my tavern,
the heavens were split by my litany:
Finally victory has arrived,
the Beloved has entered to tend me.
Lord, lord, how He is aching, my
unequaled Beloved, to recompense me!
That philosophers' stone makes obedience
and faith from my neglect and unbelief and sins.
After my shortcomings He bestows a palace,
after my slips He bestows victuals.
He causes the heart of sea and mountain to
surge from the heat of the day of my encounter.
If the thoughts of man were not a veil,
they would be burnt to ashes by my thoughts.
My drum and flag, my cry and shouting
would strike agitation in the army of the spirit.
The fire of my tryst at midnight would strike
flames into the horizon of the sky.

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

~


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[Sunlight] “The Beloved has entered to tend me”

[Sunlight] “Each creature glorifies You in a different way”

~

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

Each creature glorifies You in a different way,
and each is unaware of the states of the other.
The human being doesn't believe that stones utter praise,
but inanimate things are masters of worship.
The seventy-two sects are dubious about each other's state.
Since I pay no attention to the glorification of one who speaks,
how should my heart recognize
the worship offered by the mute?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Har yeki tasbih bar naw`i degar
guyad va az hâl-e ân in bi khabar
dami monker ze tasbih-e jamâd
va ân jamâd andar `ebâdat ostâd
Balke haftâd o do mellat har yeki
bi khabar az yekdegar va andar shakki
Chon man az tasbih-e nâteq ghâfelam
chon be-dânad sobheh-ye sâmet delam

-- Mathnawi III: 1496-1498; 1500
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~



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[Sunlight] “Each creature glorifies You in a different way”