Wednesday, February 29, 2012

[Sunlight] O Whispering Breeze -- Ghazal 1081

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"O Whispering Breeze"


O whispering breeze,
bring the news of my beloved Shams.
It would be worth more
than all the amber and musk
from China to Constantinople.

Please tell me if you've heard a word
from his sweet lips,
or a beat of his pounding heart.

O, just one word from Shams,
and I'd gladly give my life.

His love is before me and behind me;
Through his love
my heart has become pure,
my breast has imbibed every virtue.

One smell of his perfume
and I walk light-headed on this path.
O Saaqi, enough with your wine –
I am drunk on the wine from his cup!
My nose is so full of his fragrance
that I have no need for incense, musk,
or the fine amber of Mongolia.

Shamsuddin is forever alive in my heart.
Shamsuddin is the generosity of every soul.
Shamsuddin is poverty,
Shamsuddin is the purest of all wealth.

I am not the only one
singing, Shamsuddin, Shamsuddin –
The nightingales sing from the garden,
And the partridge from the mountainside.

The beauty of a starry night is Shamsuddin.
The Garden of Paradise is Shamsuddin.
Love, compassion, and gratitude are Shamsuddin.

Shamsuddin is the brightness of day,
Shamsuddin is the turning sky,
Shamsuddin is time everlasting,
Shamsuddin is the endless treasure.

Shamsuddin is the King of Cups,
Shamsuddin is the ocean of nectar.
Shamsuddin is the breath of Jesus,
Shamsuddin is the face of Joseph.

O God, show me that inner place,
where we can sit together,
Shams in the middle, my soul by his side.

Shamsuddin is sweeter than life,
Shamsuddin is an earth full of sugar,
Shamsuddin is the towering cypress,
Shamsuddin is the flowering Spring.

Shamsuddin is the well of clear water,
Shamsuddin is the harp and rubaab,
Shamsuddin is the barrel of wine,
Shamsuddin is the bliss of my soul.

O Shams, you are the hope of every heart,
the one every lover longs to hear.
O Shams, come back, alas,
Don't leave my soul in ruins.

-- Ode 1081
Version by Jonathan Star from translation by Shahram Shiva
"A Garden Beyond Paradise: The Mystical Poetry of Rumi"
Bantam Books, 1992

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Tuesday, February 28, 2012

[Sunlight] Destruction and restoration

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When a tailor cuts the cloth for a garment piece by piece,
does anyone strike him,
saying, "Why have you torn this choice satin?"
Whenever the builders repair an old building,
don't they first ruin the old one?
Likewise the carpenter, the blacksmith, and the butcher—
with them too there is destruction before restoration.
The pounding of the myrobalan
becomes the means of restoring the body to health.
Unless you crush the wheat in the mill,
how will there be bread on your table?

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

Pareh pareh kard darzi jameh-ra
kas zanad an darzi allameh-ra
Keh "Chera in atlas be-gozideh-ra
bar daridi cheh konam be-darideh-ra"
Har benâ-ye kohneh k-abadan konand
nah keh avval kohneh-ra viran konand
Hamchonin najjar o haddad o qassab
hasteshân pish az emarat-ha kharab
n halileh o an balileh kuftan
z-an talaf gardand mamuri-ye tan
Ta na-kubi gandom andar asiya
kay shavad arasteh z-an khvan-e ma

-- Mathnawi IV:2348-2353
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

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Monday, February 27, 2012

[Sunlight] Dying, Laughing

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Dying, Laughing

A lover was telling his beloved
how much he loved her, how faithful
he had been, how self-sacrificing, getting
wealth and strength and fame, all for her.

There was a fire in him.
He didn't know where it came from,
but it made him weep and melt like a candle.

"You've done well," she said, " but listen to me.
All this is the décor of love, the branches
and leaves and blossoms. You must live
at the root to be a true lover."

"Where is that!
Tell me!"
"You've done the outward acts,
but you haven't died. You must die."

When he heard that, he lay back on the ground
laughing, and died. He opened like a rose
that drops to the ground and died laughing.

That laughter was his freedom
and his gift to the eternal.

As moonlight shines back at the sun,
he heard the call to come home, and went.

When light returns to its source
it takes nothing of what is has illuminated.

It may have sone on a garbage dump, or a garden,
or in the center of a human eye. No matter.

It goes, and when it does
the open plain becomes passionately desolate,
wanting it back.

- Mathnawi V: 1242-64
Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995

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Friday, February 24, 2012

[Sunlight] Let your senses feed on His pasture

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

When one sheep of the flock jumps over a stream,
they all jump across on each other's heels.
Drive the sheep, your senses, to pasture:
Let them feed on the pasture shown by
"He who has brought forth the herbage,"*
that they may graze on hyacinth and wildrose;
and be led to the green meadows of the Realities;
that every one of your senses
may become a prophet to the others,
and lead all senses into Paradise.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chon ze ju jast az galeh yek gusfand
pas payâpay jomleh zân su barjahand
Gusfandân havâsset-râ be-rân
dar cherâ az "akhraja al-mar`â"* charân
Tâ dar ânjâ sonbol o nasrin charand
tâ be-rawzât-e Haqâyeq rah be-rand
Har hesset payghambar-e hess-hâ shavad
jomleh hess-hâ-râ dar ân Jannat kashad

-- Mathnawi II: 3242-3245
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

*al-A`lâ, 4

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Thursday, February 23, 2012

[Sunlight] Come, let us speak our souls -- Ghazal 1540

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Here, Sunlight offers Ghazal 1540, from Rumi's Diwan-e Shams, in
translations by Kolin and Mafi, and by Nader Khalili:

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Hidden from all eyes and ears
let us tell each other of our soul.
Smile like a rose with no lips
and keep silent like a thought.
Let us speak silently the secret like Spirit
and avoid talkers who use words in vain.
Let us join our hands
listen to every flutter of our heart
let us become one in silence.
Divine destiny knows our fate to the last detail
let our story be told in a silent way.

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

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

come let's speak
of our souls
let's even hide from
our ears and eyes

like a rose garden
always keep a smile
like imagination
talk without a sound

like the spirit
reigning the world
telling the secrets
uttering no word

let's get away from
all the clever humans
who put words in our mouth
let's only say what our hearts desire

even our hands and feet
sense every inner move
let's keep silence
but make our hearts move

the mystery of destiny
knows the life of
speck after speck of dust
let's tell our story as a particle of dust

-- Translation by Nader Khalili
"Rumi, Fountain of Fire"
Cal-Earth Press, 1995

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~

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