Friday, March 1, 2013

Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi


Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Balkhī, also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, and popularly known as Mowlānā but known to the English-speaking world simply as Rumi, (30 September 1207 – 17 December 1273), was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, theologian, and mystic. He was born on September 30, 1207 in Balkh (Afghanistan). His father Baha' Walad was descended from the first caliph Abu Bakr and was influenced by the ideas of Ahmad Ghazali, brother of the famous philosopher. Baha' Walad's sermons were published and still exist as Divine Sciences (Ma'arif). He fled the Mongols with his son in 1219, and it was reported that at Nishapur young Rumi met 'Attar, who gave him a copy of his Book of Mysteries (Asrar-nama). After a pilgrimage to Mecca and other travels, the family went to Rum (Anatolia). Baha' Walad was given an important teaching position in the capital at Konya (Iconium) in 1228 by Seljuk king 'Ala' al-Din Kayqubad (r. 1219-1236) and his vizier Mu'in al-Din. Rumi married and had a son, who later wrote his biography. In 1231 Rumi succeeded his late father as a religious teacher. His father's friend Burhan al-Din arrived and for nine years taught Rumi Sufism. Rumi probably met the philosopher ibn al-Arabi at Damascus.


The general theme of Rumi’s thought, like that of other mystic and Sufi poets is essentially that of the concept of tawhīd – union with his beloved (the primal root) from which/whom he has been cut off and become aloof – and his longing and desire to restore it.
The Masnavi weaves fables, scenes from everyday life, Qur’anic revelations and exegesis, and metaphysics into a vast and intricate tapestry.Rumi is considered an example of Insan-e Kamil — Perfect Man, the perfected or completed human being. In the East, it is said of him that he was “not a prophet — but surely, he has brought a scripture”.
Rumi believed passionately in the use of music, poetry, and dance as a path for reaching God. For Rumi, music helped devotees to focus their whole being on the divine, and to do this so intensely that the soul was both destroyed and resurrected. It was from these ideas that the practice of “whirling” dervishes developed into a ritual form. His teachings became the base for the order of the Mevlevi which his son Sultan Walad organized. Rumi encouraged samāʿ, listening to music and turning or doing the sacred dance. In the Mevlevi tradition, samāʿ represents a mystical journey of spiritual ascent through mind and love to the Perfect One. In this journey, the seeker symbolically turns towards the truth, grows through love, abandons the ego, finds the truth, and arrives at the Perfect. The seeker then returns from this spiritual journey, with greater maturity, to love and to be of service to the whole of creation without discrimination with regard to beliefs, races, classes, and nations.


Rumi’s poetry is often divided into various categories: the quatrains (rubayāt) and odes (ghazal) of the Divan, the six books of the Masnavi, The Discourses, The Letters, and the almost unknown Six Sermons.

Rumi's major work is the Maṭnawīye Ma'nawī (Spiritual Couplets; مثنوی معنوی), a six-volume poem regarded by some Sufis as the Persian-language Qur'an. It is considered by many to be one of the greatest works of mystical poetry. It contains approximately 27000 lines of Persian poetry.

This Torture

This Torture



Why should we tell you our love stories
 when you spill them together like blood in the dirt?

Love is a pearl lost on the ocean floor, 
or a fire we can’t see,

but how does saying that 
push us through the top of the head into
 the light above the head?

Love is not
 an iron pot, so this boiling energy
 won’t help.

Soul, heart, self. 
Beyond and within those
 is one saying,

How long before 
I’m free of this torture!



From The Book of Love
Translated by Coleman Barks




Eyes

Eyes



What is it that sees when vision is clear?
 The core that has no story, has that ever seen anything?

Surely vision has loyalties. 
Someone buying eye medicine does not see well, 
but well enough, at least, to choose the cure.

Beyond day and night one watches 
as your eyes close and open and close, as night
 turning day turns night, as eyes 
like particles float 
in the light that is your face, 
that is the sun.

Without you our eyes might be a danger
 to the soul, but with you they become the same
 as the soul. When that happens, 
the heart is seeing!

You can say that the eyes see God, but it is God
 who sees, as in the Qur’an when the desert mountain
 looks at God, and eyes appear on every stone.



From The Book of Love 
Translated by Coleman Barks

One Swaying Being

One Swaying Being



Love is not condescension, never 
that, nor books, nor any marking

on paper, nor what people say of 
each other. Love is a tree with

branches reaching into eternity
 and roots set deep in eternity,

and no trunk! Have you seen it? 
The mind cannot. Your desiring
cannot. The longing you feel for
 this love comes from inside you.

When you become the Friend, your
longing will be as the man in

the ocean who holds to a piece of 
wood. Eventually, wood, man, and

ocean become one swaying being, 
Shams Tabriz, the secret of God.



From The Book of Love
Translated by Coleman Barks




The Man of God

The Man of God



The man of God is drunken without wine,
The man of God is full without meat.
The man of God is distraught and bewildered,
The man of God has no food or sleep.
The man of God is a king beneath a dervish-cloak,
The man of God is a treasure in a ruin.
The man of God is not of air and earth,
The man of God is not of fire and water.
The man of God is a boundless sea,
The man of God rains pearls without a cloud.
The man of God has hundred moons and skies,
The man of God has hundred suns.
The man of God is made wise by the Truth,
The man of God is not learned from book.
The man of God is beyond infidelity and religion,
To the man of God, right and wrong are alike.
The man of God has ridden away from Not-being,
The man of God is gloriously attended.
The man of God is concealed, Shamsi Din;
The man of God do you seek and find!



Translated by 
Coleman Barks

Who Are You

Who Are You



Who are you? The inner vision of consciousness? 
The heart? A sacred half-light, are you that?

Do you grow gatherings? Are you a friend 
of the sun, who comes and goes so quickly?

Do not forget your vertical passage,
 the night of power,
and don’t hide from the one 
for whom all our secrets are down in the pillow under 
his head, doctor of lovers, soul for
 this thick world,

the one who spirals iron
 like dough and makes the body lightedness.

No belief is necessary to enter this tent
 where one love story changes to another.

I remember that with these words brought here
 by a falcon from the wrist of Shams.



From The Book of Love
Translated by Coleman Barks

Who Is In The House of My Heart

Who Is In The House of My Heart




Who is in the house of my heart,
 I cried in the middle of the night.
 Love [God] said,
 "It is I, but what are all these images that fill your
 house?"
 I said, they are the reflection of Your beautiful Face.
 Love asked,
 "But what is this image full of pain?"
 I said, it is me lost in the sorrows of life
 and showed Love my soul full of wounds.
 Love offered me one end of a thread and said:
 "Take it so I can pull you back,
 but do not break the delicate string."
 I reached towards it but Love struck my hand.
 I asked, why the harshness?
 Love said,
 "To remind you that whoever comes to Love's holy space
 proud and full of himself,
 will be sent away.
 Look at Love with the eyes of your heart."



Translated by 
Coleman Barks

He Is The First And The Last

He Is The First And The Last




He is the first, He is the last, He is the outward, He is the inward;
I know none other except "Ya Hu" [Yahweh]
 and "Ya man Hu" ["O He who is"].
I am intoxicated with Love's cup,
 the two worlds have passed out of my ken;
I have no business save carouse and revelry.
If once in my life I spent a moment without you,
From that time and from that hour I repent of my life.
If once in this world I win a moment with you,
I will trample on both worlds, I will dance in triumph for ever.
O Shamsi Tabriz, I am so drunken in this world,
That except of drunkenness and revelry I have no tale to tell.



Translated by 
Coleman Barks

The Root of The Root of Your Self

The Root of The Root of Your Self




Don’t go away, come near.
Don’t be faithless, be faithful.
Find the antidote in the venom.
Come to the root of the root of yourself.

Molded of clay, yet kneaded
from the substance of certainty,
a guard at the Treasury of Holy Light –
come, return to the root of the root of your Self.

Once you get hold of selflessness,
You’ll be dragged from your ego
and freed from many traps.
Come, return to the root of the root of your Self.

You are born from the children of God’s creation,
but you have fixed your sight too low.
How can you be happy?
Come, return to the root of the root of your Self.

You were born from a ray of God’s majesty
and have the blessings of a good star.
Why suffer at the hands of things that don’t exist?
Come, return to the root of the root of your Self.

You are a ruby embedded in granite.
How long will you pretend it’s not true?
We can see it in your eyes.
Come to the root of the root of your Self.

You came here from the presence of that fine Friend,
a little drunk, but gentle, stealing our hearts
with that look so full of fire; so,
come, return to the root of the root of your Self.

Our master and host, Shamsi Tabrizi,
has put the eternal cup before you.
Glory be to God, what a rare wine!
So come, return to the root of the root of your Self.



From Love Is A Stranger
Translated by Kabir Helminski

How Should The Soul

How Should The Soul 



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!



From Look! This Is Love
Translated by Annemarie Schimmel

You Must Not Be Afraid of Death

You Must Not Be Afraid of Death



You mustn't be afraid of death
you're a deathless soul
you can't be kept in a dark grave
you're filled with God's glow
be happy with your beloved
you can't find any better
the world will shimmer
because of the diamond you hold
when your heart is immersed
in this blissful love
you can easily endure
any bitter face around
in the absence of malice
there is nothing but
happiness and good times
don't dwell in sorrow my friend.



From Rumi, Fountain of Fire
Translated by Nader Khalili

I Shall Die

I Shall Die



Oh happy day when in you presence,
my ruler, I shall die!
When near the sugar-treasure melting
like sugar I shall die!
Out of my dust will grow a thousand
of centrifolias
When in the shade of yonder cypress
in gardens I shall die.
And when you pour into my goblet
the bitter drink of death,
I'll kiss the goblet full of joy, dear,
and drunken I shall die.
I may turn yellow like the autumn
when people speak of death,
Thanks to your smiling lip: like springtime
and smiling shall I die.
I have died many times, but your breath
made me alive again,
Should I die thus a hundred more times
I happily shall die!
A child that dies in mother's bosom,
that's how I am, my friend,
For in the bosom of His Mercy
and kindness, I shall die.
Say: Where would death be for the lovers?
Impossible is that!
For in the fountain of the Water
of Life - there I shall die!



From Look! This Is Love
Translated by Annemarie Schimmel

Remember Me

Remember Me



Remember me.
I will be with you in the grave
on the night you leave behind
your shop and your family.
When you hear my soft voice
echoing in your tomb,
you will realize
that you were never hidden from my eyes.
I am the pure awareness within your heart,
with you during joy and celebration,
suffering and despair.
On that strange and fateful night
you will hear a familiar voice --
you'll be rescued from the fangs of snakes
and the searing sting of scorpions.
The euphoria of love will sweep over your grave;
it will bring wine and friends, candles and food.
When the light of realization dawns,
shouting and upheaval
will rise up from the graves!
The dust of ages will be stirred
by the cities of ecstasy,
by the banging of drums,
by the clamor of revolt!
Dead bodies will tear off their shrouds
and stuff their ears in fright--
What use are the senses and the ears
before the blast of that Trumpet?
Look and you will see my form
whether you are looking at yourself
or toward that noise and confusion.
Don't be blurry-eyed,
See me clearly-
See my beauty without the old eyes of delusion.
Beware! Beware!
Don't mistake me for this human form.
The soul is not obscured by forms.
Even if it were wrapped in a hundred folds of felt
the rays of the soul's light
would still shine through.
Beat the drum,
Follow the minstrels of the city.
It's a day of renewal
when every young man
walks boldly on the path of love.
Had everyone sought God
Instead of crumbs and copper coins
They would not be sitting on the edge of the moat
in darkness and regret.
What kind of gossip-house
have you opened in our city?
Close your lips
and shine on the world
like loving sunlight.
Shine like the Sun of Tabriz rising in the East.
Shine like the star of victory.
Shine like the whole universe is yours!



From Rumi - In The Arms of The Beloved
Translated by Jonathan Star

Looking For Your Face

Looking For Your Face



From the beginning of my life
I have been looking for your face
but today I have seen it

Today I have seen
the charm, the beauty,
the unfathomable grace
of the face
that I was looking for

Today I have found you
and those who laughed
and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking
as I did

I am bewildered by the magnificence
of your beauty
and wish to see you
with a hundred eyes

My heart has burned with passion
and has searched forever
for this wondrous beauty
that I now behold

I am ashamed
to call this love human
and afraid of God
to call it divine

Your fragrant breath
like the morning breeze
has come to the stillness of the garden
You have breathed new life into me
I have become your sunshine
and also your shadow

My soul is screaming in ecstasy
Every fiber of my being
is in love with you

Your effulgence
has lit a fire in my heart
for me
the earth and sky

My arrow of love
has arrived at the target
I am in the house of mercy
and my heart
is a place of prayer.



From The Love Poems of Rumi
Edited by Deepak Chopra / Translated by Fereydoun Kia