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My God and my Lord:

Eyes are at rest, the stars are setting. Hushed are the movements of birds in their nests, of monsters in the sea; and You are the Just Who knows no change; the Equity that does not swerve, the everlasting that never passes away. The doors of kings are locked now and guarded by their henchmen, but your door is open to all who call upon You. My Lord, each lover is now alone with his beloved. And I am alone with Thee.

--- Huston Smith ---

Monday, August 22, 2011

Proclaim, O crier, at the head of every market, "Have you


seen, Muslims, a runaway slave?"

"A slave moonfaced, musk-scented, a troublemaker--swift of

pace in time of coquetry, in time of peace slow.

"A boy, ruby-robed, charming of countenance, sugar-sweet,

cypress-stature, saucy-eyed,acute, perfectly poised;

"In his bosom a rebec, in his hand a plucker; he plays a sweet

air, charming, well-seated.

"Does anyone have a fruit of the garden of his beauty? Or a

bunch of roses to smell from the rose bed of his loveliness?

"A Joseph by whose price the king of Egypt was bankrupted,

on every side heart-wounded ones like Jacob by his glance.

"I will give freely my sweet life as lawful to whomever brings

me a sign of him, or even a veiled hint."



-- Translation by A. J. Arberry

"Mystical Poems of Rumi 2"

The University of Chicago Press, 1991



Saturday, July 9, 2011

How can You be Silent

From  Sunlight

How can You be Silent

"These sayings of mine are really a call to God,

words to lure the breath of that sweet One.
How can you be silent? How can you fail to call,
knowing He always answers, "Here I am—"
that silent answer you feel from head to toe."





Saturday, April 9, 2011

In The Arms of the beloved

A BALL OF WAX




O lovers! O lovers! -

I can turn dust into diamonds!

O minstrels! O minstrels!

I can fill your tambourines with gold!



O thirsty souls! O thirsty souls!

I can give you water to drink,

I can turn this dustbin

into the flowing waters of paradise!



O beggar! O beggar!

Your desperate call is over.

I can turn your aching heart

into the King's crown!



O love! O love!

Pour down on this world.

I can turn every ruin into a mosque,

every gallows into a pulpit.



O skeptics! O skeptics!

I can open your heart!

I can pull the strings

that turn people toward doubt or faith.



O braggers! O braggers!

You are a ball of wax in my hand!

Become a sword

and I will turn you into a cup.

Become a cup

and I will turn you into a sword.



You began as a drop of semen,

then you became blood.

Now you have attained this wonderful form.

Come to me, O son of Adam,

I will make you even more beautiful.



I can turn sorrow into joy,

I can turn a wild beast into Joseph,

I can turn poison into nectar,

I can find all those who have gone astray.



O Saaqi! O Saaqi!

My mouth is open wide.

Let every dry mouth

be joined to the lip of your cup.



O garden! O garden!

Let me use your roses for my rosary

and I will let your flowers bloom in my heart.



O Heaven! O Heaven!

You'll be more confused than the narcissus

when I change dust into ambergris,

thorns into jasmine.



O Wisdom! O Wisdom!

You are the King of Truth

who offers a treasure to all those who ask.

Why should I say another word? -

What could I add to your endless giving?



-- Version by Jonathan Star

"Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved "

Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

This is Love.....

This is love: to soar towards the heavens,
   every moment, to tear aside a hundred veils.
The first move, to let go of life.
   The last step, to walk without feet.
To regard this world as invisible,
   and to disregard the eye of the self.

'O heart,' I said, "you are blessed
   to enter this circle of lovers,
   to see beyond what eye can see,
   to enter the windings of the breast.
O soul, how did you begin to breathe?
O heart, how did you begin to beat?
O soul-bird, speak the language of birds,
   for I understand your hidden meaning.'

My soul replied, " I was in the Workshop
   the day this house of water and clay was fired.
I was fleeing from the phenomenal world,
   even while it was being created.
When I could resist no more, I was dragged down,
   and, like a ball of clay, I was moulded into form.

      (D 1919:A2:237)