AFTER BEING IN LOVE, THE NEXT
RESPONSIBILITY
Turn me like a waterwheel turning a
millstone.
Plenty of water, a Living River.
Keep me in one
place and scatter the love.
Leaf-moves in wind, straw drawn
toward amber,
all parts of the world are in love,
but they
do not tell their secrets. Cows grazing
on a sacramental table,
ants whispering in Solomon's ear.
Mountains mumbling an echo.
Sky, calm.
If the sun were not in love, he would have no
brightness,
the side of the hill no grass on it.
The ocean
would come to rest somewhere.
Be a lover as they are, that you come to
know
you Beloved. Be faithful that you may know
Faith. The
other parts of the universe did not accept
the next
responsibility of love as you can.
They were afraid they might
make a mistake
with it, the inspired knowing
that springs
from being in love
FURUZANFAR #2674 (translated by
Coleman Barks)
The
Rumi Collection, edited by Kabir Helminski
—
That moon, which the sky ne'er saw even
in dreams, has returned
And brought a fire no water can
quench.
See the body' s house, and see my. soul,
This made
drunken and that desolate by the cup of his love.
When the
host of the tavern became my heart-mate,
My blood turned to
wine and my heart to kabab.
When the eye is filled with
thought of him, a voice arrives :
W ell done, O flagon, and
bravo, wine!
Love's fingers tear up, root and stem,
Every
house where sunbeams fall from love.
When my heart saw love's
sea, of a sudden
It left me and leaped in, crying, , Find me.'
The face of Shamsi Din, Tabriz's glory, is the sun
In
whose track the cloud-like hearts are moving.
From Divan-i Shams, translated R. A.
Nicholson
—
THROUGH LOVE
all that is bitter will sweet
Through Love all that is copper
will be gold.
Through Love all dregs will turn to purest
wine
Through Love all pain will turn to medicine.
Through
Love the dead will all become alive.
Through Love the king will
turn into a slave!
—
ONCE a beloved asked her lover: "Friend,
You
have seen many places in the world!
Now - which of all these
cities was the best?
He said: "The city where my sweetheart
lives!"
—
FROM MYSELF I am copper,
through You, friend, I
am gold.
From myself I'm a stone, but
through You I am a
gem!
—
O SUN, fill our house once more with
light!
Make happy all your friends and blind your foes!
Rise
from behind the hill, transform the stones
To rubies and the
sour grapes to wine!
O Sun, make our vineyard fresh
again,
And fill the steppes with houris and green
cloaks!
Physician of the lovers, heaven's lamp!
Rescus the
lovers! Help the suffering!
Show but your face - the world is
filled with light!
But if you cover it, it's the darkest
night!
—
HOW SHOULD THE SOUL not take wings
when from
the Glory of God
It hears a sweet, kindly call:
"Why are you
here, soul? Arise!"
How should a fish not leap fast
into the
sea form dry land
When from the ocean so cool
the sound of
the waves reaches its
How should the falcon not fly
back to
his king from the hunt
When from the falconer's drum
it
hears to call: "Oh, come back"?
Why should not every
Sufi
begin to dance atom-like
Around the Sun of
duration
that saves from impermanence?
What graciousness and
what beauty?
What life-bestowing! What grace!
If anyone does
without that, woe-
what err, what suffering!
Oh fly , of
fly, O my soul-bird,
fly to your primordial home!
You have
escaped from the cage now-
your wings are spread in the
air.
Oh travel from brackish water
now to the fountain of
life!
Return from the place of the sandals
now to the high
seat of souls!
Go on! Go on! we are going,
and we are
coming, O soul,
From this world of separation
to union, a
world beyond worlds!
How long shall we here in the
dust-world
like children fill our skirts
With earth and with
stones without value,
with broken shards without
worth?
Let's take our hand from the dust grove,
let's fly to
the heavens' high,
Let's fly from our childish behaviour
and
join the banquet of men!
Call out, O soul, to proclaim
now
that you are rules and king!
You have the grace of the
answer,
you know the question as well!
Translated by Annemarie Schimmel, 'Look!
This is Love'
—
WHISPERS OF LOVE
Lover whispers to my ear,
"Better to be a prey
than a hunter.
Make yourself My fool.
Stop trying to be the
sun and become a speck!
Dwell at My door and be
homeless.
Don't pretend to be a candle, be a moth,
so you
may taste the savor of Life
and know the power hidden in
serving."
Mathnawi V. 411-414 (translated by
Kabir Helminski)
The
Rumi Collection, Edited by Kabir Helminski
—
how long
can i lament
with this
depressed
heart and soul
how long
can i remain
a sad autumn
ever
since my grief
has shed my leaves
the entire space
of my soul
is burning in
agony
how long can i
hide the flames
wanting to
rise
out of this fire
how long can one suffer
the pain of
hatred
of another human
a friend behaving like an
enemy
with a broken heart
how much more
can i take
the message
from body to soul
i believe in love
i swear by love
believe me
my love
how long
like a prisoner of grief
can i beg
for mercy
you know i'm not
a piece of rock or
steel
but hearing my story
even water will become
as
tense as a stone
if i can only recount
the story of my
life
right out of my body
flames will grow
—
rocking and rolling
what have you been
drinking
please let me know
you must be drunk
going house to
house
wandering from street to street
who have you been with
who have you
kissed
who's face have you been fondling
you are my soul
you are my life
i swear my
life and love is yours
so tell me the truth
where is that
fountainhead
the one you've been drinking from
don't hide this secret
lead me to the
source
fill my jug over and over again
last night i finally caught
your attention in
the crowd
it was your image filling my dream
telling me to stop this wandering
stop this
search for
good and evil
i said my dear prophet
give me some of
that
you've drunk for ecstasy of life
if i let you drink you said
any of this burning
flame
it will scorch your mouth and throat
your portion has been
given already by
heaven
ask for more at your peril
i lamented and begged
i desire much
more
please show me the source
i have no fear
to burn my mouth and
throat
i'm ready to drink every flame and more
—
show me your face
i crave
flowers
and gardens
open your lips
i crave
the taste of
honey
come out from
behind the clouds
i desire a sunny
face
your voice echoed
saying "leave me alone"
i wish to
hear your voice
again saying "leave me alone"
i swear this
city without you
is a prison
i am dying to get out
to
roam in deserts and mountains
i am tired of
flimsy friends
and
submissive companions
i die to walk with the brave
am
blue hearing
nagging voices and meek cries
i desire loud
music
drunken parties and
wild dance
one hand
holding
a cup of wine
one hand caressing your hair
then
dancing in orbital circle
that is what i yearn for
i can
sing better than any nightingale
but because of
this city's
freaks
i seal my lips
while my heart weeps
yesterday the
wisest man
holding a lit lantern
in daylight
was
searching around town saying
i am tired of
all these beasts
and brutes
i seek
a true human
we have all looked
for
one but
no one could be found
they said
yes he
replied
but my search is
for the one
who cannot be
found
Translated by Nader Khalili
"Rumi,
Fountain of Fire"
—
Reason says, I will beguile him with
the tongue;" Love says, "Be silent. I will beguile him with the
soul."
The soul says to the heart, "Go, do not laugh at me and
yourself. What is there that is not his, that I may
beguile him
thereby?"
He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion
that I may beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.
The arrow
of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguile the shaft of
his gaze with a bow.
He is not prisoner of the world, fettered
to this world of earth, that I should beguile him with gold of the
kingdom of the world.
He is an angel, though in form he is
a man; he is not lustful that I should beguile him with
women.
Angels start away from the house wherein this form is,
so how should I beguile him with such a form and likeness?
He
does not take a flock of horses, since he flies on wings; his food
is light, so how should I beguile him with bread?
He is not a
merchant and trafficker in the market of the world that I should
beguile him with enchantment of gain and loss.
He is not veiled
that I should make myself out sick and utter sighs, to beguile him
with lamentation.
I will bind my head and bow my head, for I
have got out of hand; I will not beguile his compassion with
sickness or fluttering.
Hair by hair he sees my crookedness and
feigning; what’s hidden from him that I should beguile him with
anything hidden.
He is not a seeker of fame, a prince addicted
to poets, that I should beguile him with verses and lyrics and
flowing poetry.
The glory of the unseen form is too great for
me to beguile it with blessing or Paradise.
Shams-e Tabriz, who
is his chosen and beloved – perchance I will beguile him with this
same pole of the age.
—
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 Iraq2 ; 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 his 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