Monday, September 30, 2013

[Sunlight] The Song of the Reed

~


Mawlana Jalal-ad-Din Muhammad Rumi was born on
September 30, 1207
~






In memory of the birth of Maulaana Jalalludin Balkhi, known as
Rumi, Sunlight offers the first verses from his Mathnawi, the story
of The Song of the Reed, in an interpretive version by Jonathan Star,
in translation by Dr. Franklin Lewis, and in translation by Dr.
Ibrahim Gamard, accompanied by a Persian transliteration.


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


The Song of the Reed


Listen to the song of the reed,
How it wails with the pain of separation:


"Ever since I was taken from my reed bed
My woeful song has caused men and women to weep.
I seek out those whose hearts are torn by separation
For only they understand the pain of this longing.
Whoever is taken away from his homeland
Yearns for the day he will return.
In every gathering, among those who are happy or sad,
I cry with the same lament.
Everyone hears according to his own understanding,
None has searched for the secrets within me.
My secret is found in my lament
But an eye or ear without light cannot know it . . ."


The sound of the reed comes from fire, not wind
What use is one's life without this fire?
It is the fire of love that brings music to the reed.
It is the ferment of love that gives taste to the wine.
The song of the reed soothes the pain of lost love.
Its melody sweeps the veils from the heart.
Can there be a poison so bitter or a sugar so sweet
As the song of the reed?

To hear the song of the reed
everything you have ever known must be left behind.


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


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


Listen
as this reed
pipes its plaint
unfolds its tale
of separations:
Cut from my reedy bed
my crying
ever since
makes men and women
weep
I like to keep my breast
carved with loss
to convey
the pain of longing ---
Once severed
from the root
thirst for union
with the source
endures


I raise my plaint
in any kind of crowd
in front of both
the blessed and the bad
For what they think they hear me say, they love me --
None gaze in me my secrets to discern
My secret is not separate from my cry
But ears and eyes lack light to see it.


Not soul from flesh
nor flesh from soul are veiled
yet none is granted leave to see the soul.
Fire, not breath, makes music through that pipe --
Let all who lack that fire be blown away.
It is love's fire that inspires the reed
It's love's ferment that bubbles in the wine
The reed, soother to all sundered lovers --
its piercing modes reveal our hidden pain:

(What's like the reed, both poison and physic,
Soothing as it pines and yearns away?)
The reed tells the tale of a blood-stained quest
singing legends of love's mad obsessions


Only the swooning know such awareness
only the ear can comprehend the tongue


In our sadness time slides listlessly by
the days searing inside us as they pass.


But so what if the days may slip away?
so long as you, Uniquely Pure, abide.


Within this sea drown all who drink but fish
If lived by bread alone, the day seems long
No raw soul ever kens the cooked one's state
So let talk of it be brief; go in piece.


Break off your chains
My son, be free!
How long enslaved
by silver, gold?
Pour the ocean
in a pitcher,
can it hold more
than one day's store?
The jug, like a greedy eye,
never gets its fill
only the contented oyster holds the pearl


The one run ragged by love and haggard
gets purged of all his faults and greeds
Welcome, Love!
sweet salutary suffering
and healer of our maladies!


cure of our pride
of our conceits,
our Plato,
Our Galen!
By Love
our earthly flesh
borne to heaven
our mountains
made supple
moved to dance


Love moved Mount Sinai, my love,
and it made Moses swoon. [K7:143]


Let me touch those harmonious lips
and I, reed-like, will tell what may be told


A man may know a myriad of songs
but cut from those who know his tongue, he's dumb.
Once the rose wilts and the garden fades
the nightingale will no more sing his tune.


The Beloved is everything -- the lover, a veil
The Beloved's alive -- the lover carrion.
Unsuccored by love, the poor lover is
a plucked bird
Without the Beloved's
surrounding illumination
how perceive what's ahead
and what's gone by?


Love commands these words appear
if no mirror reflects them
in whom lies the fault?
The dross obscures your face
and makes your mirror
unable to reflect


-- Mathnawi I: 1 - 34
Translation by Professor Franklin D. Lewis
"Rumi -- Past and Present, East and West"
Oneworld, Oxford, 2000


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


The Song of the Reed
Mathnawi I: 1-18


Listen* to the reed (flute),* how it is complaining!* It is
telling about separations,*
(Saying), "Ever since I was severed from the reed field,* men and
women have lamented in (the presence of) my shrill cries.*
"(But) I want a heart (which is) torn, torn from separation, so
that I may explain* the pain of yearning."*
"Anyone one who has remained far from his roots,* seeks a return
(to the) time of his union.*
"I lamented in every gathering; I associated with those in bad or
happy circumstances.
"(But) everyone became my friend from his (own) opinion; he did
not seek my secrets* from within me.
"My secret is not far from my lament, but eyes and ears do not
have the light* (to sense it).
"The body is not hidden from the soul, nor the soul from the body;
but seeing the soul is not permitted."*
The reed's cry is fire* -- it's not wind! Whoever doesn't have
this fire, may he be nothing!*
It is the fire of Love that fell into the reeds. (And) it is the
ferment of Love that fell into the wine.*
The reed (is) the companion of anyone who was severed from a
friend; its melodies tore our veils.*
Who has seen a poison and a remedy like the reed? Who has seen
a harmonious companion and a yearning friend like the reed?
The reed is telling the story of the path full of blood;* it is
telling stories of Majnoon's (crazed) love.*
There is no confidant (of) this understanding* except the senseless!
* There is no purchaser of that tongue* except the ear [of the
mystic.]
In our longing,* the days became (like) evenings;* the days
became fellow-travellers with burning fevers.
If the days have passed, tell (them to) go, (and) don't worry.
(But) You remain!* -- O You, whom no one resembles in Purity!

Everyone becomes satiated by water,* except the fish. (And)
everyone who is without daily food [finds that] his days become
long.*
None (who is) "raw" can understand the state of the "ripe."*
Therefore, (this) speech must be shortened. So farewell!*


-- From "The Mathnawî-yé Ma`nawî" [Rhymed
Couplets of Deep Spiritual Meaning] of
Jalaluddin Rumi.
Translated from the Persian by Ibrahim Gamard
(with grateful acknowledgement of R.A. Nicholson's
1926 translation)
(c) Ibrahim Gamard (translation, footnotes, and
transliteration)


*Listen: states of spiritual ecstasy were induced in sufi gatherings
by listening to mystical poetry and music. During such a "mystical
concert" [samâ`-- literally, "audition" or "hearing" session] some
dervishes would enter a spiritual state of consciousness and
spontaneously begin to move. Sometimes they would stand up and
dance or whirl. They would listen to the poetry or music as if they
were hearing the voice of God, the Beloved. Such gatherings were
controversial, were criticized by orthodox Muslim leaders, and were
practiced by very few sufi orders-- usually with restrictions and high
standards for participants.


*the reed [nay]: a flute made by cutting a length of a naturally
hollow reed cane and adding finger holes. "The nay or reed-flute as
the poet's favourite musical instrument and has always been associated
with the religious services of the Mawlawí ["Whirling Dervish"]
Order, in which music and dancing are prominent features."
(Nicholson, Commentary). The reed flute symbolizes the soul which
is emptied of ego-centered desires and preoccupations and is filled
with a spiritual passion to return to its original nearness to God.
Rumi said, "The world (is) like a reed pipe [sornây], and He blows
into every hole of it; every wail it has (is) certainly from those two
lips like sugar. See how He blows into every (piece of) clay (and)
into every heart; He gives a need and He gives a love which raises up
a lament about misfortune." (Ghazal 532, lines 5664-5665) Rumi
also said, "We have all been part of Adam (and ) we have heard those
melodies in Paradise. Although (bodily) water and clay have cast
skepticism upon us, something of those (melodies) comes (back) to
our memory.... Therefore, the mystical concert has become the food
of the lovers (of God) for in it is the image of (heavenly) reunion."
(Mathnawî IV: 736-737, 742)


*separations: "The point is that while self-conscious lovers complain
of separation from the beloved one, and reproach her for her cruelty,
the mystic's complaint (shikáyat) is really no more than the tale
(hikákat) of his infinite longing for God-- a tale which God
inspires him to tell." (Nicholson, Commentary). Rumi said: "I'm
complaining [shikâyat mê-kon-am] about the Soul of the soul;
but I am not a complainer [shâkê] -- I'm relating words
[rawâyat mê-kon-am]. (My) heart keeps saying, 'I'm afflicted by
Him!' And I have been laughing at (its) feeble pretense." (Mathnawî I:
1781-82). "Be empty of stomach and cry out, in neediness (neyâz),
like the reed flute! Be empty of stomach and tell secrets like the
reed pen!" (Divan: Ghazal 1739, line 18239). "Lovers (are) lamenting
like the reed flute [nây], and Love is like the Flutist. So, what
things will this Love breathe into the reed pipe [sôr-nây] of
the body?! The reed pipe is visible, but the pipe-player is hidden.
In short, my reed pipe became drunk from the wine of His lips.
Sometimes He caresses the reed pipe, sometimes he bites it. (Such) a
sigh, because of this sweet-songed reed-breaking Flutist!" (Divan:
Ghazal 1936, lines 20374-20376)
Nicholson later changed his translation, based on the earliest
manuscripts of the Mathnawi, to "Listen to this reed how it
complains: it is telling a tale of separations" (from, "Listen to the
reed how it tells a tale, complaining of separations." This is what
the earliest known manuscript has. (This is the "Konya Manuscript,"
completed five years after Rumi died, and written by Muhammad ibn
Abdullâh Qûnyawî, a disciple of Rumi's son, Sultân Walad,
under his supervision together with Husâmuddîn Chelabî --
who was present with Rumi during the dictation of every verse of the
Mathnawi.) All manuscripts and editions after the 13th century
adopted a changed (and "improved") version of this line: "Listen
from the nay, how it tells a story... [be-sh'naw az nay chûn
Hikâyat mê-kon-ad / az jodâ'îy-hâ shikâyat
mê-kon-ad].


*the reed field [nay-estân]: lit., "place of reeds." A symbol for
the original homeland of the soul, when it existed harmoniously in the
presence of God. "... referring to the descent of the soul from the

sphere of Pure Being and Absolute Unity, to which it belongs and
would fain return." (Nicholson, Commentary)


*in (the presence of) my shrill cries: Nicholson later changed his
translation, based on the earliest manuscript, to: "man and woman
have moaned in (unison) with my lament" [dar nafîr-am] (from, "my
lament hath caused [az nafîr-am] man and woman to moan").


*explain: a pun on the two meanings of the same word [sharH],
"explanation" and "torn."


*the pain of yearning: The longing of love is painful, because of
separation-- yet also sweet. This is because the longing brings
remembrance of the beloved's beauty. Longing for nearness to a
human beloved, such as a spiritual master, is a means for the
spiritual disciple to increase his longing for nearness to God, the
only Beloved. Rumi said: "If thought of (longing) sorrow is
highway-robbing (your) joy, (yet) it is working out a means to
provide joy.... It is scattering the yellow leaves from the branch of
the heart so that continual green leaves may grow.... Whatever
(longing) sorrow sheds or takes from the heart, truly it will bring
better in exchange." (Mathnawi V:3678, 3680, 3683)


*roots: also means foundation, source, origin.


*union: also means being joined.


*my secrets: "The Perfect Man (prophet or saint) is a stranger in the
world, unable to communicate his sorrows or share his mystic
knowledge except with one of his own kind; he converses with all
sorts of people, worldly and spiritual alike, but cannot win from
them the heartfelt sympathy and real understanding which he craves.
This is the obvious sense of the passage, and adequate so far as it
goes, but behind it lies a far-reaching doctrine concerning the
spiritual "Descent of Man.' .... The whole series of planes forms the
so-called 'Circle of Existence', which begins in God and ends in
God and is traversed by the soul in its downward journey through
the Intelligences, the Spheres, and the Elements and then upward
again, stage by stage-- mineral, vegetable, animal, and man-- till as
Perfect man it completes its evolution and is re-united with the
Divine Soul..." (Nicholson, Commentary)


*the light: refers to the ancient Greek theory of Galen, that vision
is caused by an "inner light" within the eye. Similarly, the faculty
of hearing was believed to be caused by an "inner air" within the ear.


*not permitted: "As the vital spirit, though united with the body, is
invisible, so the inmost ground of words issuing from an inspired
saint cannot be perceived by the physical senses." (Nicholson,
Commentary) The reed flute's speech ends here, and Rumi's
commentary begins next.


*The reed's cry is fire: Nicholson, in his Commentary, quotes
Rumi's verse (Divan, Ghazal 2994, line 31831): "The flute is all afire
and the world is wrapped in smoke; / For fiery is the call of Love
that issues from the flute."


*may he be nothing [nêst bâd]: a pun on another meaning of these
words -- "it's not wind." It means, "May he experience absence of
self so that he may burn with yearning love for the presence of the

Beloved." Nicholson interpreted that this means, "The Mathnawí is
not mere words; its inspiration comes from God, whose essence is
Love. May those yet untouched by the Divine flame be naughted, i.e.
die to self!" He said that the words here [nêst bâd] "should
not be taken as an imprecation [== a cursing]; the poet, I think,
prays that by Divine grace his hearers may be enraptured and lose
themselves in God." (Commentary)


*into the wine: "i.e. Love kindles rapture in the heart and makes it
like a cup of foaming wine." (Nicholson, Commentary)


*tore our veils [parda-hâ]: a pun on the two meanings of this word,
"veils" and "melodies." The meaning of this line is that the sounds of
pure yearning from the reed flute tore through the veils covering up
the inward spiritual yearning of listening mystics -- the sufis, who
have had the capacity to understand the meaning of the reed flute's
melodious wails. This is a reference to the "mystical concert"
[samâ`] of the Mevlevi ("Whirling") dervishes in which the reed
flute is prominent.


*the path full of blood: "the thorny path of Love, strewn with
(Díwán, SP, XLIV, 6) 'with thousands slain of desire who
manfully yielded up their lives'; for Love 'consumes everything else
but the Beloved' (Math. V 588)." (Nicholson, Commentary)


*Majnoon's crazed love: "Majnún: the mad lover of Laylà: in
Súfí literature, a type of mystical self-abandonment."
(Nicholson, Commentary). Majnoon (lit., "jinn-possessed") was a
legendary Arab lover whose love for the beautiful Laylà [lit., "of
the night"] made him crazy. Majnoon's love for Layla also symbolizes the
perception of spiritual realities seen only by mystics, as in Rumi's
lines: "The Caliph said to Layla, Are you the one by whom Majnoon
became disturbed and led astray? You are not more (beautiful) than
other fair ones. She said, Be silent, since you are not Majnoon!"
(Mathnawi I: 407-08; see also V:1999-2019, 3286-99) This
"craziness" of being an ecstatic mystic lover of God is quite
different from the craziness of being psychotic or mentally ill.
*this understanding: "the spiritual or universal reason (`aql-i
ma`ád) and transcendental consciousness of those who have escaped
from the bondage of the carnal or discursive reason (`aql-i
ma`ásh)." (Nicholson, Commentary)


*the senseless [bê-hôsh]: a play on "understanding" (hôsh),
and also means devoid of understanding lacking reason, swooned and
insensible. The meaning is that no one can understand mystical
understanding except one who is able to transcend the intellect.
*that tongue: an idiom for language. The meaning is that only a
mystic who is capable of passing beyond the senses and ordinary
mind has an "ear" which can understand the "tongue" or language of
the heart. Nicholson explained: "i.e. every one desires to hear what
is suitable to his understanding; hence the mysteries of Divine Love
cannot be communicated to the vulgar" [== ordinary people].
(Commentary)


*longing [gham]: lit., "grief." An idiom here, meaning the suffering
of longing love.


*evenings [bê-gâh]: An idiom meaning "evening." Means that the

days became quickly used-up. Nicholson (1926) erred in translating
this idiom too literally as "untimely." (I am indebted to Dr. Ravan
Farhadi, an Afghan scholar, for this understanding of the idiom.)


*but You remain: 26. God is addressed directly as "Thou," or
perhaps indirectly as "Love." "The meaning is: 'What matter though
our lives pass away in the tribulation of love, so long as the Beloved
remains?'" (Nicholson, Commentary)


*water (âbash): Nicholson later corrected his translation to,
"except the fish, every one becomes sated with water" (from, "Whoever
is not a fish becomes sated with His water"). As Nicholson pointed
out, the word for "water" here [âbash] is a noun (as in III: 1960--
Commentary). It therefore does not mean "his water" or "water for
him" [âb-ash]. Nicholson also explained: "The infinite Divine grace
is to the gnostic [== mystic knower] what water is to the fish, but his
thirst can never be quenched." (Commentary)


*become long: Nicholson mentions this as "alluding to the proverb,
harkih bí-sír-ast rúz-ash dír-ast" [The day are long for
whoever is without satisfaction] (Commentary)


*the state of the ripe [pokhta]: refers to the spiritual state of the
spiritually mature, experienced, refined. This contrasts to the state
of the raw [khâm]-- the unripe, immature, inexperienced, uncooked,
the one who bears no fruit. Rumi has been quoted as saying, "The
result of my life is no more than three words: I was raw [khâm], I
became cooked [pokhta], I was burnt [sokht]." However, this is not
supported by the earliest manuscripts (collected by Faruzanfar), only
one of which contains the following: "The result for me is no more
than these three words: I am burnt, I am burnt, I am burnt (or: I am
inflamed, burned, and consumed-- Divan, Ghazal 1768, line 18521).
In Rumi's famous story of the man who knocked on the door of a
friend, the visitor was asked who he was and he answered, "Me."
He was told to go, for he was too "raw" [khâm]. The man was then
"cooked" by the fire of separation and returned a year later. Asked
who he was, he answered, "Only you are at the door, O beloved."
His spiritual friend then said, "Now, since you are me, O me, come
in. There isn't any room for two me's in the house!" (Mathnawi I:
3056-63)


*farewell: Here, Rumi's famous first eighteen verses end. Rumi's
close disciple, Husamuddin Chelebi had asked him one night: "'The
collections of odes [ghazalîyât] have become plentiful....
(But) if there could be a book with the quality of (the sufi poet
Sana'i's) 'Book of the Divine,' yet in the (mathnawi) meter of (the
sufi poet Attar's) 'Speech of the Birds,' so that it might be
memorized among the knowers and be the intimate companion of the
souls of the lovers ... so that they would occupy themselves with
nothing else...' At that moment, from the top of his blessed turban,
he [Rumi] put into Chelebi Husamuddin's hand a portion (of verses),
which was the Explainer of the secrets of Universals and particulars.
And in there were the eighteen verses of the beginning of the
Mathnawi: 'Listen to this reed, how it tells a tale...." (Aflaki, pp.
739-741) After that, Husamuddin was present with Rumi for every verse
he composed of the Mathnawi during the next twelve years until Rumi's
death. The number eighteen has been considered sacred in the Mevlevi
tradition ever since.


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


be-sh'naw în nay chûn shikâyat mê-kon-ad
az jodâ'îy-hâ hikâyat mê-kon-ad


k-az nayestân tâ ma-râ bo-b'rîda-and
dar nafîr-am mard-o zan nâlîda-and


sîna khwâh-am sharHa sharHa az firâq
tâ be-gôy-am sharH-é dard-é ishtiyâq


har kasê k-ô dûr mând az aSl-ê khwêsh
bâz jôy-ad rôzgâr-é waSl-é khwêsh


man ba-har jam`îyatê nâlân shod-am
joft-é bad-Hâl-ân-o khwash-Hâl-ân shod-am


har kasê az Zann-é khwad shod yâr-é man
az darûn-é man na-joft asrâr-é man


sirr-é man az nâla-yé man dûr nêst
lêk chashm-o gôsh-râ ân nûr nêst


tan ze-jân-o jân ze-tan mastûr nêst
lêk kas-râ dîd-é jân dastûr nêst


âtesh-ast în bâng-é nây-o nêst bâd
har-ke în âtesh na-dâr-ad nêst bâd


âtesh-é `ishq-ast k-andar nây fotâd
jôshesh-é `ishq-ast k-andar may fotâd


nay Harîf-é har-ke az yârê bor-îd
parda-hâ-ash parda-hâ-yé mâ darîd


ham-chô nay zahrê wo tiryâqê ke dîd?
ham-cho nay dam-sâz-o mushtâqê ke dîd?


nay HadîS-é râh-é por khûn mê-kon-ad
qiSSa-hâ-yé `ishq-é majnûn mê-kon-ad


maHram-é în hôsh joz bê-hôsh nêst
mar zabân-râ mushtarê joz gôsh nêst


dar gham-é mâ rôz-hâ bê-gâh shod
rôz-hâ bâ sôz-hâ ham-râh shod


rôz-hâ gar raft gô raw bâk nêst
tô be-mân ay ân-ke chûn tô pâk nêst


har-ke joz mâhê ze-âbash sêr shod
har-ke bê-rôzî-st rôz-ash dêr shod


dar na-yâb-ad Hâl-é pokhta hêch khâm
pas sokhon kôtâh bây-ad wa s-salâm


(meter: XoXX XoXX XoX)


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


~


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Friday, September 27, 2013

[Sunlight] Fix your eye on the holder, not on that which is held

~


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


The spirit is like an ant, and the body like a grain of wheat
which the ant carries to and fro continually.
The ant knows that the grains of which it has taken charge
will change and become assimilated.
One ant picks up a grain of barley on the road;
another ant picks up a grain of wheat and runs away.
The barley doesn't hurry to the wheat,
but the ant comes to the ant, yes it does.
The going of the barley to the wheat is merely consequential:
it's the ant that returns to its own kind.
Don't say, "Why did the wheat go to the barley?"
Fix your eye on the holder, not on that which is held.
As when a black ant moves along on a black felt cloth:
the ant is hidden from view; only the grain is visible on its way.
But Reason says: "Look well to your eye:
when does a grain ever move along without a carrier?"


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Jân cho mur va tan cho dâneh-ye gandomi
mi keshânad su be-suvish har dami

Mur dânad k-ân hobub-e mortahan
mostahil o jens-e man khvâhad shodan

n yeki muri gereft az râh jaw
mur-e digar gandomi be-gereft o daw
Jaw su-e gandom na-mi tâzad vali
mur su-ye mur mi âyad bali
Raftan-e jaw su-ye gandom tâbe`ast
mur-râ bin keh be-jensesh râje`ast
To ma-gu "Gandom cherâ shod su-ye jaw"
cheshm-râ bar khasm neh ni bar geraw
Mur-e asvad bar sar-e lebd-e siyâh
mur penhân dâneh paydâ pish-e râh
`Aql guyad "Cheshm-râ niku negar
dâneh hargez kay ravad bi dâneh-bar"


-- Mathnawi VI: 2955-2962
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra


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


~














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Thursday, September 26, 2013

[Sunlight] The only Friend – Ghazal 1596

~

Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal 1596, in a translation by Azima
Melita Kolin and Maryam Mafi, and in a translation by Nader Khalili:

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

All friends have vanished.
Like fleeting thoughts they scattered
and left me only with the thought
of my Beloved.
Now alone with every breath
I call the only Friend of the forsaken.
I was taken by the stream of love
I tasted the fruit of love's tree,
surrounded with such tenderness, such sweetness
I even had to chase the wasps away!
I was the doorkeeper at the gate of my Beloved.
He left, and now, bewildered
I don't know which way to turn.

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

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


all my friends
departed like dreams
left alone
i called upon
one friend
to become
my entire dream

this is the one
who soothes my heart
with endless
tenderness and love

the one who
one hour bestows
inner peace
and the next
the nectar of life

this dream too
as it arrives
i come alive and
as it departs
i'm helpless again

-- Translation by Nader Khalili
"Rumi, Fountain of Fire"
Cal-Earth Press, 1991

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

~











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Wednesday, September 25, 2013

[Sunlight] I've seen no joy without You -- Ghazal_1690?



~

   Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) N32 (in the Nicholson numbering
system; number 1690 in the more commonly used Furuzanfar numbering system), in three presentations -- a translation by Annemarie Schimmel, and versions by Jonathan Star and James Cowan:

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

I've seen no joy without You in both
worlds,
I've seen their wonders nothing was like
You.
I've put the soul's ear at the window
"Heart"
I've heard some words but never seen the
lips!
You've lavished grace abundant on Your
slave
I've seen no reason but Your endless grace.
Cupbearer, dearer than my eyes, I have
Not seen one like You in Iran, Iraq!
Pour out such wine that I may leave
myself
I've only seen fatigue in my existence.
You're milk and You are sugar, sun and
moon
I've seen no family like You, my parent!
O endless Love, Divine manifestation
I've seen no name thats worthy of You,
Helper!
We are like iron scraps Your love: the
magnet.
You, without seeking, are the source of
seeking!

-- Translation by Annemarie Schimmel
"Look! This is Love - Poems of Rumi""
Shambhala, 1991

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

When All You Had Was Him

O my Beloved,
I searched both worlds
but never found joy without you.
I have seen many wonders
but never a wonder like you.

I pressed my soul's ear
against countless doors
But never heard words as sweet as yours.

O what grace you pour upon your servants!
From our view the ocean looks so small!

O Saaqi, sweet sight of my eyes,
I've never seen one like you
in all of Persia or Arabia.
Pour the wine that takes me beyond myself,
for this petty existence
brings nothing but fatigue.

You are the endless Love,
You are the heavenly song,
You are the mother and father,
You are the one I will always know.

We are scraps of iron.
Your love is the magnet that draws us near.
Why should I seek?
All I need do is love . . . .

Rest now my soul,
Leave behind your religion
and your empty show of faith.

Remember when you had no religion?
Remember when all you had was Him?

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

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

Apart from you, my Beloved, I've found no joy in the two
worlds.
Though I've seen many wonders, none compare with you.

They say that a fire blazing is the unbeliever's lot:
I've seen none, except Abu Lahab*, excluded from your
fire.

Many times I've laid the ear of the spirit near the heart's
window:
Long conversations I heard, yet those lips remained
invisible.

Suddenly you lavished grace upon your servant:
There was no reason for it but your infinite kindness.

O chosen cup-bearer, apple of my eye, your like
Have I never seen in Persia or Arabia.

Pour out wine until I become absent from myself:
In selfhood and existence I've felt only fatigue.

O you who are milk and sugar, sun and moon,
O you who are mother and father, no other kin have
I known.

O indestructible Love, O divine Minstrel,
You are both stay and refuge: no other name equals you.

We are but iron filings, your love the magnet:
You are source of all aspiration, myself I have seen none.

Silence, O Brother! Put learning and culture aside:
Until culture was named, I knew no culture but you.

-- Version by James Cowan
Rumis Divan of Shems of Tabriz, Selected Odes
Element Books Limited 1997

*"Abu Lahab" -- An uncle of the Prophet, who was an enemy of early Islam. His nickname translates from the Arabic as "The Father of Flame". Abu Lahab is a literary symbol of one who will suffer physical flame, as he has no knowledge of the Divine Flame. (Koran CXI)
(Sunlight footnote, with thanks to Eliza Tasbihi.)

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

~



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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

[Sunlight] This world is a game

~


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


In this world you have become clothed and rich,
but when you come out of this world, how will you be?
Learn a trade that will earn you forgiveness.
In the world beyond there's also traffic and trade.
Beside those earnings, this world is just play.
As children embrace in fantasy intercourse,
or set up a candy shop, this world is a game.
Night falls, and the child
comes home hungry, without his friends.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Dar jahân pushideh gashti va ghani
pisheh-'i âmuz k-andar âkherat
andar âyad dakhl-e kasb-e maghferat
Ân jahân shahrist por bâzâr o kasb
tâ na-pendâri keh kasb ast la`b-e kudakân
Hamcho ân tefli keh bar tefli tanad
shakl-e sohbat kon mesâsi mi-konad
Kudakân sâzand dar bâzi dokkân
sud na-bovad joz keh ta`bir-e zamân
Shab shavad dar khâneh âyad goresneh
kudakân rafteh be-mândeh yek taneh


-- Mathnawi II: 2593-2599
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra


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


~




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Monday, September 23, 2013

[Sunlight] You took away my rosary -- Ghazal 940



~

Today, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode) 940, from Rumi's
"Diwan-e Shams", in a poetic version by Coleman Barks and
a literal translation by A.J. Arberry:

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

Love has taken away my practices
and filled me with poetry.

I tried to keep quietly repeating,
No strength but Yours, but I couldn't.
I had to clap and sing.

I used to be respectable and chaste and stable,
but who can stand in this strong wind
and remember those things?

A mountain keeps an echo deep inside itself.
That's how I hold your Voice.

I am scrap wood thrown in your Fire,
and quickly reduced to smoke.

I saw You and became empty. This Emptiness,
more beautiful than existence, it obliterates existence;
and yet when It comes, existence thrives and creates more existence!

The sky is blue. The world is a blind man squatting on the road.
But whoever sees Your Emptiness
sees beyond blue and beyond the blind man.

A great soul hides like Muhammed, or Jesus,
moving through a crowd in a city where no one knows Him.

To praise is to praise how one surrenders to the Emptiness.
To praise the sun is to praise your own eyes.
Praise, the Ocean. What we say, a little ship.

So the sea-journey goes on, and who know where!
Just to be held by the Ocean is the best luck we could have.
It's a total waking up!

Why should we grieve that we've been sleeping?
It doesn't matter how long we've been unconscious.

We're groggy, but let the guilt go.
Feel the motions of tenderness around you, the buoyancy.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995

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

Love for you took away my rosary and gave verses and songs; I
cried "No strength (save with God)" and repented oft, but my
heart did not heed.
At Love's hand I became a singer of odes, hand-clapping; love
for you consumed reputation and shame and all that I possessed.
Once I was chaste and self-denying and firm-footed as a
mountain; what mountain is there that your wind did not carry away
life chaff?
If I am a mountain, yet I hold the echo of your voice; and if I
am chaff, in your fire I am reduced to smoke.
When I saw your being, I became nonexistent out of shame;
out of the love of this nonexistence the world of soul came into
being.
Wherever nonexistence comes, existence diminishes � brave
nonexistence, from which, when it came, existence augmented!
Heaven is blue, earth like a blind squatter on the road; he who
beholds your moon escapes from blind-and-blue.
The likeness of the soul of a great saint, hidden in the body
of the world is the likeness of Ahmad the Messenger amidst the
Guebres and Jews.
To praise you in reality is to praise oneself, for he who praises
the sun thereby praises his own eyes.
Your praise is as the sea, our tongue is a ship; the soul voyages
on the sea, and its end is praiseworthy.
The tender care of the sea is for me like wakeful fortune; why
should I grieve, if my eye is stained with sleep?

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

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

~







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Friday, September 20, 2013

[Sunlight] Thorns and roses

~

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

Either take up your axe and strike
like Ali at the gates of Khaybar,
or join these thorns with a rose:
bring your fire to God's light in order that
your fire will disappear in His light,
and all your thorns become roses.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yâ tabar bar gir va mardâneh be-zan
to `Ali-vâr in dar Khaybar be-kon
Yâ be-golbon vasl kon in khâr-râ
vasl kon bâ nâr-e nur-e Yâr-râ
Tâ keh nur-e U kashad nâr-e terâ
vasl-e U golshan konad khâr-e terâ

-- Mathnawi II:1244-1246
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~



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Thursday, September 19, 2013

[Sunlight] Look not at Time’s events

~

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

"Look not at Time's events, which come from the
spheres and make life so disagreeable!
Look not at this dearth of daily bread and
means of livelihood! Look not at this famine and fear and
trembling!
Look at this: In spite of all the world's
bitterness, you are passionately and shamelessly attached to it.
Know that bitter tribulation is a Mercy! Know
that the Empire of Marv and Balkh* is a Vengeance! . . .
The cruelty of Time and of every suffering that
exists is easier than distance from God and heedlessness.
For that cruelty will pass, but distance from
Him will not. No one possesses good fortune but he who takes
to Him an aware spirit."

-- Mathnawi VI 1733-36, 56-57
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love: The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983, pp. 57-58.

* Balkh and Merv, two cities in Central Asia. A reference to Ibrahim Adham, the King of Balhk and Merv, who gave up his kingdom, freed himself from worldly attachments, and became a sufi. (Sunlight footnote)

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

~



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Wednesday, September 18, 2013

[Sunlight] Hidden behind dark veils woven by ourselves

~

Today, Sunlight offers two interpretations of Quatrain 57:

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

Love is our mother and
the way of our Prophet.
Yet, it is in our nature
to fight with Love.
We can't see you, mother,
hidden behind dark veils
woven by ourselves.

-- Translation by Azima Melita Kolin
and Maryam Mafi
Rumi: Whispers of the Beloved
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 1999


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

The manner and appearance of a prophet,
our secret origins, these are born
of a woman who still lives inside us,
though she's hiding from what we've become.

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

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

~



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Tuesday, September 17, 2013

[Sunlight] “Charity for God’s sake”

~

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

Charity for God's sake has a hundred signs within the heart—
the good deed, a hundred tokens.
Though in charity riches are consumed,
a hundred lives come to the earth in return.
A sowing of pure seeds in God's earth, and then no income! Impossible.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sad neshân bâshad darun isâr-râ
sad `alâmat hast niku kâr-râ
mâl dar isâr agar gardad talaf
dar darun sad zendegi âyad khalaf
Dar zamin-e Haqq zerâ`at kardani
tokhm-hâ-ye pâk ângah dakhl ni

-- Mathnawi IV:1757-1759
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~



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Monday, September 16, 2013

[Sunlight] The Blocked Road – Ghazal 1837

~

Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal (Ode)1837, from Rumi's "Diwan-e
Shams" ("The Collection of Shams"), as a poetic version by Coleman
Barks, and in translation by A.J. Arberry:

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

"The Blocked Road"

I wish I knew what you wanted.
You block the road and won't give me rest.
You pull my lead-rope one way, then the other.
You act cold, my darling!
Do you hear what I say?

Will this night of talking ever end?
Why am I still embarrassed and timid
about you? You are thousands.
You are one.
Quiet, but most articulate.

Your name is Spring.
Your name is wine.
Your name is the nausea
that comes from wine!

You are my doubting
and the lightpoints
in my eyes.

You are every image, and yet
I'm homesick for you.

Can I get there?
Where the deer pounces on the lion,
where the one I'm after's
after me?

This drum and these words keep pounding!
Let them both smash through their coverings
into silence.

-- Version by Coleman Barks,
from a translation by A.J. Arberry
"Like This"
Maypop, 1990

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

Lord, would that I knew what is the desire of my Beloved; He
has barred my road of escape, robbed me of my heart and my
repose.
Lord, would that I knew whither He is dragging me, to what
purpose He is dragging my toggle in every direction.
Lord, would that I knew why He is stonyhearted, that loving
King of mine, my long-suffering Darling.
Lord, would that I knew whether my sighing and my clamor,
"My Lord and my defense!" – will reach my Beloved at all.
Lord, would that I knew where this will end; Lord, this my
night of writing is very long.
Lord, what is this ferment of mine, all this bashfulness of
mine? – Seeing that you are mine, you are at once my one and my
thousand.
Your love is always both silent and eloquent before the image
of my eye, my sustenance and my fate!
Now I call him quarry, now I call him spring, now I nickname
him wine, now my crop sickness.
He is my unbelief and faith, my light-beholding eye, that of
mine and this of mine – I cannot escape from him.
No more patience has remained for me, nor sleep, nor tears
nor wrath; Lord, how long will he raid all the four of mine?
Where is the house of water and clay, compared with that of
soul and heart? Lord, my sole desire has become my hometown
and habitation*.
This heart is banished from the town, stuck in dark mire,
lamenting, "O God, where is my family and retinue?"
Lord, if only I might reach my city and behold the companion
of my Palace, and all that city of my friend!
Gone then my hard road, the heavy load from my back; my
long-suffering Darling would come, carrying off my load.
My lion-catching deer would drink to the full of my milk, he
whose quarry I am would have become my quarry.
Black-faced night is then not the mate and consort of my day;
stonyhearted autumn follows not in the wake of my springtide.
Will you not be silent? How long will you beat this drum?
Alas, my veiled lip, that you have become veil-rending!

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

*"The house of water and clay" symbolizes the human body where
the soul, coming from a spiritual land, must sojourn and the
original abode back to which it wishes to fly.

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

~





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Friday, September 13, 2013

[Sunlight] Work on perfecting yourself

~

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

When Satan sees, to the left or right, anyone who is perfect,
he becomes ill with envy,
for every miserable wretch whose stack has been burnt
is unwilling that anyone else's candle should be lighted.
Pay attention, work on perfecting yourself,
so that the perfection of others may not grieve you.
Beg of God the removal of envy,
that God may deliver you from externals,
and bestow upon you an inward occupation,
which will absorb you
so that your attention is not drawn outward.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harkeh-râ did u kamâl az chap o râst
az hasad qawlanjesh âmad dard khâst
Zânkeh har badbakht-e kharman sukhteh
mi na-khvâhad shama`-e kas afrukhteh
Hin kamâli dast âvor tâ tavahhom
az kamâl-e digarân na-fati be-ghamm
Az Khodâ mi-khvâh daf`-e in hasad
tâ Khodâyet vâ rahânad az jasad
Mar to-râ mashghuliyi bakhshad darun
keh na-pardâzi az ân su-ye berun

-- Mathnawi IV:2678-2682
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~



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Thursday, September 12, 2013

[Sunlight] “Seek nothing but the source”

~

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

a voice out of this world
calls on our souls
not to wait any more
get ready to move
to the original home

your real home
your real birth place
is up here with the heavens
let your soul take a flight
like a happy phoenix

you've been tied up
your feet in the mud
your body roped to a log
break loose your ties
get ready for the final flight

make your last journey
from this strange world
soar for the heights
where there is no more
separation of you and your home

God has created
your wings not to be dormant
as long as you are alive
you must try more and more
to use your wings to show you're alive

these wings of yours
are filled with quests and hopes
if they are not used
they will wither away
they will soon decay

you may not like
what i'm going to tell you
you are stuck
now you must seek
nothing but the source

-- Ghazal 945
Translation by Nader Khalili
"Rumi, Fountain of Fire"
Cal-Earth Press, 1994

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

~



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Wednesday, September 11, 2013

[Sunlight] "He has afflicted you from every direction"

~

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

He has afflicted you from every direction in order
to pull you back to the Directionless.

--Breathing Truth - Quotations from Jalaluddin Rumi
Selected and Translated by Muriel Maufroy
Sanyar Press - London, 1997


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

~


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Tuesday, September 10, 2013

[Sunlight] “Thought is a gnat”

~

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

Everyone is overridden by thoughts;
that's why they have so much heartache and sorrow.
At times I give myself up to thought purposefully;
but when I choose,
I spring up from those under its sway.
I am like a high-flying bird,
and thought is a gnat:
how should a gnat overpower me?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jomleh-ye khalqân sokhreh-ye andisheh-'and
z-ân sabab khasteh-del o ghamm pisheh-'and
Qâsedan khvod-râ beh-andisheh deham
chon be-khvâham az miyâneshân bar jaham
Man cho morgh-e awjam andisheh magas
kay bovad bar man magas-râ dast-ras

-- Mathnawi II:3559-3561
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
(Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra)

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

~



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Monday, September 09, 2013

[Sunlight] You'll not find another friend like me -- Ghazal 3055

~

In this post, Sunlight offers Rumi's Ghazal (Ode) 3055,
in version form by Barks and Cowan, and in translation by
Arberry and Nicholson:

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

You won't find another friend like me.
You spend your days in all directions.
No one accepts your money but me.
You're the dry ditch, and I am rain.
You're the rubble of a building.
I'm the architect.

There is only one sunrise a day.
In your sleep you see many shapes and people.
When you wake, you see nothing.
Close those eyes and open these eyes.

What you've been wanting is a donkey
lying sick on the ground.
What you've been doing is the bit and
halter on that donkey.
There's sweet syrup here where you've
been buying vinegar and unripened fruit.

Walk into the hospital.
There's no shame in going where everyone has to go.
Without that healing, you're a body with no head.

The mirror is black and rusty.
Who is the lucky man doing business with?
Think of the one who gave you thought.
Walk toward whoever gave you feet.

Look for the one behind your seeing.
Sing and clap because the whole ocean is a bit of foam.
No accidents are happening here.

Listen within your ear.
Speak without forming words.
Language turns against itself
and is likely to cause injury.

-- Version by Coleman Barks (based on a
translation by A.J. Arberry)
"These Branching Moments"
Copper Beech Press, 1988

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

Be mindful, you'll not know a friend like me.
Where in the world is there such a Beloved?

Be mindful, don't spend your life wandering about,
There's no market elsewhere for you to splurge.

You are as an arid gully, I as rain,
You are a city in ruins, I the architect.

Know that my service is like joy at dawn,
Few men experience its illuminating warmth.

In dreams you see a myriad shifting images;
When the dream ends you're left with nought.

Close tight the eye of falsity, open wide the eye of
the intellect;
An ass is your senses, evil thoughts its halter.

Choose sweet syrup from the garden of Love, for Nature
Sells vinegar, and crushes unripened grapes.

Enter the hospital of your Creator, for no man
Who's ill can dispense with his remedies.

Without the King the world is decapitated:
Like a turban, fold yourself about its severed head.

Unless you're dark, don't let the mirror fall
From your hand: soul is your mirror, your body rust.

Where is the lucky merchant, whose destiny Jupiter
Controls, that I may trade with him and buy his wares?

Come, remember me who gave you the ability to think,
From my mine you may yet buy an ass-load of rubies.

Come, walk towards him who gave you feet,
Look with both eyes on him who gave you sight.

Clap hands for joy of him, by whose foamy hand
the sea is made. His joy dispels sorrow and pain.

Speak without tongue, without ears listen,
The tongue's mutterings often give offence.

-- Version by James Cowan (based on R.A. Nicholson's
"Divan-I Shems-I Tabriz" translation)
"Rumi's Divan of Shems of Tabriz, Selected Odes
Element Books Limited 1997

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

Come, come, for you will not find another friend like me;
where indeed in both worlds is a beloved like me?
Come, come, and do not pass your days in every direction, for
there is no other market elsewhere for your money.
You are like a dry water conduit and I am like the rain; you
are like a ruined city and I am like the architect.
Except in serving me, which is the sunrise of joy, men have
never seen and never will see any mark of happiness.
In sleep you see a thousand moving forms; when sleep has
gone, you see not a single creature.
Close the eye of wrong and open the eye of intelligence, for
the carnal soul has fallen like an ass, and concupiscence is the halter.
Seek sweet syrup from the garden of love, for human nature
is a vinegar-seller and a crusher of unripe grapes.
Come to the hospital of your Creator, for no sick man can do
without that physician.
The world without that king is like the body without its head;
wind round such a head as a turban.
If you are not black, let not the mirror go from your hand; for the
soul is your mirror and the body is rust.
Where is the lucky merchant with Jupiter in ascension, that I
may do that business with him and purchase his goods?
Come, think of me who gave you thought; if you are buying
rubies, at least buy from my mine.
Go on foot towards him who gave you a foot, gaze on him with both
eyes who gave you sight.
Clap hands for joy for him from whose sea is the foam, for
there is no grief or sorrow happening to him.
Listen without ears; speak unto him without a tongue, for the
speech of the tongue is not without contradiction and injury.

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

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

XLV.

Come, come, for you will not find another friend like
me.
Where indeed is a Beloved like me in all the world?
Come, come, and do not spend your life in wandering
to and fro,
Since there is no market elsewhere for your money*.
You are as a dry valley and I as the rain,
You are as a ruined city and I as the architect.
Except my service, which is joy's sunrise,
Man never has felt and never will feel an impression of
joy*.
You behold in dreams* a thousand moving shapes;
When the dream is past you do not see a single one of
the kind*.
Close the eye that sees falsely and open the intellectual
eye*,
For the senses resemble an ass, and evil desire is the
halter.
Seek sweet syrup* in the garden of Love,
For Nature is a seller of vinegar and a crusher of
unripened grapes.
Come to the hospital of your own Creator:
No sick man can dispense with that Physician*.
The world without that King is like a headless body:
Fold yourself, turbanwise, round such a head*.
Unless you are black*, do not let the mirror go from
your hand:
The soul is your mirror, while the body is rust.
Where is the fortunate merchant, whose destiny Jupiter
controls*,
That I may eagerly trade with him and buy his wares?
Come, and think of me who gave you the faculty of
thought,
Since from my mine you may purchase an ass-load of
rubies.
Come, advance towards him who gave you a foot,
Look with all your eyes on him who gave you an eye.
Clap your hands for joy of him, by whose sea the hand
(foam) is produced,
For his joy admits no sorrow nor affliction.
Listen without ears, speak to him without the tongue,
Since the speech of the tongue is not without offence
and injury.

-- Translation by R.A. Nicholson
(Ode 242.15 [Lachnau Edition of the Divani Shamsi Tabriz])
"Selected Poems from the Divani Shamsi Tabriz"
Edited and translated by Reynold A. Nicholson
Cambridge, At the University Press, 1898, 1952

Nicholson's notes:

* "money" "the pure gold of the spirit."
* "impression of joy" "signifies the different points of the horizon,
from whence the sun rises in the course of the year' (Sale's Kor'an,
Vol. II. P. 309, note)."
* "in dreams" "the sleep of phenomenal existence. Our birth is but
a sleep and a forgetting.'"
* "a single one of the kind" "literally, a dweller, is mostly used with
a negative, and seldom occurs in Persian except in the phrase there is
no one.'"
* "eye of the intellect" " the intelligentiae oculus' described by
Richard of St Victor (Vaughan's Hours with the Mystics,' Vol. 1.
P. 128):
An eye within. . . one that beholds at once the past,
the present, and the future; which diffuses through all
things the keen brightness of its vision; which penetrates
what is hidden, investigates what is impalpable; which
needs no foreign light wherewith to see, but gazes by a
light of its own, peculiar to itself.
The animal soul is driven blindly along by its ruling passion.
Cf. T. 204. 5:
Sensual desire is a bridle, and men are as camels:
Do not suppose that there is any bridlions are the only obstacles
to union with the Divinity."
* "sweet syrup" " probably here means honey'. . . The poet
obviously contrasts honey with vinegar, as the sweet fruits of
the spirit with the bitter gall of worldly lusts."
* "Physician" "cf. T. 210. 12a:
Love came to me at morn in the guise of a physician;
He laid his hand on my vein and said, The pulse is
weak.'"
* "Fold yourself, turbanwise, round such a head" "for
this word-play cf. T. 247. 2; 251. 12. From Professor Cowell's
MS. (C2) I quote the following beyt, because it affords another
example of aghileh' (shackle, tether, bond):
You are in the bonds of (absorbed in) the arrangement
of beard and turban:
How will you gain Him who quaffs the mighty flagon
(of love)?"
* "black" "buried in the dark attributes of Not-being.
Your soul, which should reflect the truth, is obscured by
pride and self will. Cf. Masnavi, 176. 9:
The rust, coat on coat, O black kettle,
Has corrupted thy interior aspect."
* "Where is the fortunate merchant, whose destiny Jupiter
controls" "born under a happy star." cf. Sa'di, Gulistan,'
p. 23, fourth line from the foot:
How long will this mart remain busy?"

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

~



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Friday, September 06, 2013

[Sunlight] “It is God who purchases”

~

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

Every prophet has said in sincerity,
to his people, "I don't ask wages for my message.
I am only a guide. It is God who purchases:
God has appointed me to act
as broker on both sides."

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

Har nabi goft bâ qawm az safâ
man na-khvâham mozd-e payghâm az shomâ
Man dalilam Haqq shomâ-râ moshtari
dâd Haqq dalâliyam har do sari

-- Mathnawi II: 573-574
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

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

~



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

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Thursday, September 05, 2013

[Sunlight] The trap and the bail – Quatrain 1332

~

Today, Sunlight offers two interpretations of Quatrain 1332:

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

I have grown old,
but not old from the days.
I have grown old
but not old from the smiles and games
of my Beloved.

With every breath
I am baked and unbaked,
With every step I become the trap
and the one who takes the bait.

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

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

if you see me getting old
it's not from the
passing of time
my beloved being
coy and selfish
in every breath
I get cooked
I get raw
over and over
in every step I'm used as a bait
or a trap
over and over

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

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

~



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

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Wednesday, September 04, 2013

[Sunlight] "Love is Reckless"

~

Here, Sunlight offers verses from Rumi's "Mathnawi", Book VI,
lines 1967-1974, as interpreted in versions by Kabir Helminski and
Coleman Barks, along with the literal translation by Professor
Nicholson, on which Helminski and Barks relied in developing their
versions:

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

"Love is Reckless"

Love is reckless; not reason.
Reason seeks a profit.
Love comes on strong, consuming herself, unabashed.

Yet, in the midst of suffering,
Love proceeds like a millstone,
hard surfaced and straightforward.

Having died to self-interest,
she risks everything and asks for nothing.
Love gambles away every gift God bestows.

Without cause God gave us Being;
without cause, give it back again.
Gambling yourself away is beyond any religion.

Religion seeks grace and favor,
but those who gamble these away are God's favorites,
for they neither put God to the test
nor knock at the door of gain and loss.

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

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

"The Circle Around the Zero"

A lover doesn�t figure the odds.

He figures he came clean from God
as a gift without a reason,
so he gives without cause
or calculation or limit.

A conventionally religious person
behaves a certain way
to achieve salvation.

A lover gambles everything, the self,
the circle around the zero! He or she
cuts and throws it all away.

This is beyond
any religion.

Lovers do not require from God any proof,
or any text, nor do they knock on a door
to make sure this is the right street.

They run,
and they run.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"Feeling the Shoulder of the Lion"
Threshold Books, 1991

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

Love is reckless, not Reason: Reason seeks that from which
it may get some profit.
(The lover is) fierce in onset and body-consuming and un-
abashed: in tribution, like the nether millstone;
A hard-faced one that has no back: he has killed in himself
the seeking of self-interest.
He gambles (everything) clean away, he seeks no reward, even
as he receives (everything) clean (as a free gift) from Him (God).
God gives him his existence without any cause: the devoted
(lover) yields it up again without cause;
For devotion consists in giving without cause: gambling
(one's self) clean away (pure self-sacrifice) is outside of (tran-
scends) every religion.
Forasmuch as religion seeks (Divine) grace or salvation,
those who gamble (everything) clean away are (God's) chosen
favourites.
Neither do they put God to any test, nor do they knock at the
door of any profit or loss.

-- Mathnawi VI: 1967-1974
Translation by Reynold A. Nicholson
"The Mathnawi of Jalalu'ddin Rumi"
Published and Distributed by
The Trustees of The "E.J.W. Gibb Memorial"

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

~



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