Friday, May 30, 2008

[Sunlight] Secrets bursting inside me -- Quatrain 1141

~

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

I can't let you know
all the secrets
I can't open to you
all the doors
there is something inside
that makes me happy
but I can't put my finger
on its source

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


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The secrets are bursting inside me
but to give them away and
expose them to mockery, I cannot.
Something inside me is bursting with joy
but to put my finger on it, I cannot.

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

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


~


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

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Thursday, May 29, 2008

[Sunlight] Water for the next generation

~

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

The Logos is digging a channel
for water to reach the next generation.
During every generation there is one who brings the word of God;
still the sayings of those who have come before are helpful.

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

Hin be-gu keh Nâteqeh ju mi konad
tâ be-qarni ba`d-e mâ âbi resad
Garcheh har qarni sokhan âri bovad
lik goft-e sâlefân yâri bovad

-- Mathnawi III: 2537-2538
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

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

~


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

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Wednesday, May 28, 2008

[Sunlight] All that He is to me -- Ghazal 2251

~

Today, Sunlight offfers Ghazal (Ode) 2251, from the "Diwan-e
Shams", "The Book of Shams", in a version by Jonathan Star, and in
translations by Annemarie Schimmel and William Chittick:


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

"No Place to Hide"

When I set out, he is my goal.
When I look in my heart, he is its ravisher.
When I seek justice, he is the judge.
When I go to war, he is my weapon.

When I join the celebration,
He is the wine and the sweetmeats.
When I enter the garden,
He is the narcissus in bloom.

When I go into a mine,
He is the ruby and carnelian.
When I dive into the ocean,
He is the pearl at the bottom.

When I cross the desert,
He is the watering hole.
When I rise to the spheres,
He is the brightest star.

When I show my courage,
He is the shield.
When I burn from heartache,
He is the incense holder.

When I fight a battle,
He is the commander-in-chief.
When I enter the banquet hall,
He is the saaqi, the minstrel, and the cup.

When I write to my friends,
He is the pen and the paper.
When I need a rhyme for a poem,
He gives me the right clue.

When I awake
He is my pure awareness.
When I go to sleep
He is the one who plays in my dreams.

Whatever picture you paint
or poem you write
he is beyond that.
Whatever height you can reach,
he is higher than your "highest."

Get rid of your talking and your books -
it is far better
to let Him be your book.

See his light fill the heavens.
And when you pass beyond the heavens
you'll find him hiding there.

O Wondrous Light of Tabriz,
Where will you hide? -
The brilliance ofyour Sun,
will always give you away.

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

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

When I seek peace,
he is the kindly intercessor,
And when I go to war,
the dagger, that is he.
And when I come to meetings,
he is the wine and sweetmeat.
And when I come to gardens,
the fragrance, that is he.
When I go to the mines, deep,
he is the ruby there.
When I delve in the ocean,
the precious pearl is he.
When I come to the desert,
he is a garden there.
When I go to the heaven,
the brilliant star is he . . .
And when I write a letter
to my beloved friends,
The paper and the inkwell,
the ink, the pen is he.
And when I write a poem
and seek a rhyming word -
The one who spreads the rhymes out
within my thought, is he!

-- Translation by Annemarie Schimmel
"I Am Wind, You are Fire"
Shambhala, 1992

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

When I start from the beginning, He is my
leader; when I seek my heart, He is its ravisher.
When I strive for peace, He intercedes for me;
when I go to war, He is my dagger.
When I come to the gathering, He is the wine
and the sweetmeats; when I enter the garden, He is the
narcissus.
When I go down to the mine, He is the ruby
and carnelian; when I dive into the sea, He is the pearl.
When I cross the desert, He is the oasis; when I
ascend the spheres, He is the star.
When I show my fortitude, He is my breast,
when I burn from heartache, He is the censer.
When I enter battle at the time of war, He
keeps ranks and leads the army.
When I go to a banquet at the time of joy, He is
the saki, minstrel and cup.
When I write letters to my friends, He is paper,
pen, and inkwell.
When I awaken, He is my new awareness; when
I go to bed, He enters my dreams.
When I seek a rhyme for my poetry, He eases
the way for my mind.
He stands above whatever form you can picture,
like painter and pen.
No matter how much higher you look, He is
still higher than that "higher" of yours.
Go, abandon speaking and books--much better
it is to let Him be your book.
Be silent! For all six directions are His light;
and when you pass beyond the directions, He Himself is the
Ruler.
I have preferred Thy Pleasure over my own;
Thy secret is mine, so I keep it hidden.
Marvellous sun of Tabriz! Like the sun, he is
exceedingly worthy of himself.

-- Translation by William Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, 1983

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

~


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

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Tuesday, May 27, 2008

[Sunlight] "The soul's true coin"

~


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

The High God lays upon our body, O lion-hearted,
heat and cold and grief and pain,
fear and hunger and poverty and illness—
all for the soul—
so the soul's true coin may be seen and used.

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

Haqq Ta`âlâ garm o sard o ranj o dard
bar tan-e mâ mi nehad ay shir mard
Khawf o ju` va naqs-e amvâl o badan
jomleh be-har naqd-e jân zâher shodan

-- Mathnawi II: 2963-2964
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

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

~


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

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Monday, May 26, 2008

[Sunlight] The story of the laziest son

~


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


A man on his deathbed left instructions
for dividing up his goods among his three sons.
He had devoted his entire spirit to those sons.
They stood like cypress trees around him,
quiet and strong.
He told the town judge,
"Whichever of my sons is laziest,
give him all the inheritance."

Then he died, and the judge turned to the three,
"Each of you must give some account of your laziness,
so I can understand just how you are lazy."

Mystics are experts in laziness. They rely on it,
because they continually see God working all around them.
The harvest keeps coming in, yet they
never even did the plowing!

"Come on. Say something about the ways you are lazy."

Every spoken word is a covering for the inner self.
A little curtain-flick no wider than a slice
of roast meat can reveal hundreds of exploding suns.
Even if what is being said is trivial and wrong,
the listener hears the source. One breeze comes
from across a garden. Another from across the ash-heap.
Think how different the voices of the fox
and the lion, and what they tell you!

Hearing someone is lifting the lid off the cooking pot.
You learn what's for supper. Though some people
can know just by the smell, a sweet stew
from a sour soup cooked with vinegar.

A man taps a clay pot before he buys it
to know by the sound if it has a crack.

The eldest of the three brothers told the judge.
"I can know a man by his voice,
and if he won't speak,
I wait three days, and then I know him intuitively."

The second brother, "I know him when he speaks,
and if he won't talk, I strike up a conversation."

"But what if he knows that trick?" asked the judge.

Which reminds me of the mother who tells her child,
"When you are walking through the graveyard at night
and you see a boogeyman, run at it,
and it will go away."

"But what," replies the child, "if the boogeyman's
mother has told it to do the same thing?
Boogeymen have mothers too."

The second brother had no answer.

The judge then asked the youngest brother,
What if a man cannot be made to say anything?
How do you learn his hidden nature?"

I sit in front of him in silence,
and set up a ladder made of patience,
and if in his presence a language from beyond joy
and beyond grief begins to pour from my chest,
I know that his soul is as deep and bright
as the star Canopus rising over Yemen.
And so when I start speaking a powerful right arm
of words sweeping down, I know him from what I say,
and how I say it, because there's a window open
between us, mixing the night air of our beings."

The youngest was, obviously,
the laziest. He won.

-- Mathnawi VI: 4876-4916
Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995

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

~


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

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