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

You Wreck My Shop

You Wreck My Shop

You wreck my shop and my house and now my heart,

 but how can I run from what gives me life?

I’m weary of personal worrying, in love 

with the art of madness! Tear open my shame

and show the mystery. How much longer 

do I have to fret with self-restraint and fear?

Friends, this is how it is: we are fringe

 sewn inside the lining of a robe. Soon

we’ll be loosened, the binding threads torn out. 

The beloved is a lion. 

We’re the lame deer in his paws. 

Consider what choices we have!

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

Escaping To The Forest

Escaping To The Forest 

Some souls have gotten free of their bodies.

 Do you see them? Open your eyes for those

 who escape to meet with other escapees,

whose hearts associate in a way they have 

of leaving their false selves

 to live in a truer self.

I don’t mind if my companions 

wander away for a while.

They will come back like a smiling drunk. 

The thirsty ones die of their thirst.

The nightingale sometimes flies from a garden

 to sing in the forest.

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

Our Death Is Our Wedding With Eternity

Our Death Is Our Wedding With Eternity

Our death is our wedding with eternity.

What is the secret? "God is One."

The sunlight splits when entering the windows of the house.

This multiplicity exists in the cluster of grapes;

It is not in the juice made from the grapes.

For he who is living in the Light of God,

The death of the carnal soul is a blessing.

Regarding him, say neither bad nor good,

For he is gone beyond the good and the bad.

Fix your eyes on God and do not talk about what is invisible,

So that he may place another look in your eyes.

It is in the vision of the physical eyes

That no invisible or secret thing exists.

But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God

What thing could remain hidden under such a Light?

Although all lights emanate from the Divine Light

Don't call all these lights "the Light of God";

It is the eternal light which is the Light of God,

The ephemeral light is an attribute of the body and the flesh.

...Oh God who gives the grace of vision!

The bird of vision is flying towards You with the wings of desire.

From http://www.khamush.com/poems.html#9

The True Sufi

The True Sufi

What makes the Sufi? Purity of heart;
Not the patched mantle and the lust perverse
Of those vile earth-bound men who steal his name.
He in all dregs discerns the essence pure:
In hardship ease, in tribulation joy.
The phantom sentries, who with batons drawn
Guard Beauty's place-gate and curtained bower,
Give way before him, unafraid he passes,
And showing the King's arrow, enters in.

From Persian Poems

Edited by A.J.Arberry

On Resurrection Day

On Resurrection Day 

On Resurrection Day
God will say,
"What did you do
with the strength and the energy
that your food gave you
on Earth?
How did you use your eyes?
What did you make with your five senses
while they were dimming and playing out?
I gave you hands and feet as tools
for preparing the ground for planting.
Did you, in the health I gave,
do the plowing?"
You will not be able to stand
when you hear those questions.
You will bend double with shame,
and finally acknowledge the glory.

Then you will turn to the right looking to the prophets
for help, as though to say,
I am stuck in the mud of my life.
Help me out of this!

And they will answer,
those kings,
"The time for helping is past.
The plow stands there in the field.
You should have used it."
Then you will turn to the left,
where your family is,
and they will say,
"Don't look at us!
This conversation is between you
and your creator!"

From One-Handed Basket Weaving 

Translated by Coleman Barks

If A Blow Comes To You From Heaven

If A Blow Comes To You From Heaven

If a blow comes to you from Heaven,
be alert to a gift of honor after it;
for He is not the King to slap you
without giving you a crown
and a throne on which to rest.
The whole world is worth only a gnat's wing,
but a single slap may bring an infinite reward.
Slip your neck nimbly out of this golden collar
that is the world, and take the slaps that come from God.
The prophets suffered those blows on the neck,
and from that affliction they lifted their heads high.
But always be present, attentive, and ready in yourself,
youthful one, in order that He may find you at home.
Otherwise He will take back His gift of honor,
saying "I found no one there."

From Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance: A Daybook of Spiritual Guidance 

Translated by Camille Helmiski /  Kabir Helminski

A Man Was Crying

A Man Was Crying

One night a man was crying Allah! Allah! 

His lips grew sweet with praising,

 until a cynic said, “So! 

I have heard you calling out, but have you ever

 gotten any response?”

The man had no answer to that.

 He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.

He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,

 in a thick, green foliage.

“Why did you stop praising?” “Because 

I’ve never heard anything back.”

“This longing you express

 is the return message.”

The grief you cry out from

 draws you toward union.

Your pure sadness 

that wants help

 is the secret cup.

Listen to the moan of a dog for its master. 

That whining is the connection.

There are love dogs 

no one knows the names of.

Give your life

 to be one of them.

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

This We Have Now

This We Have Now

This we have now 

is not imagination.

This is not grief, 

or joy, not a judging state, 

or an elation, or a sadness.

Those come and go. 

This is the presence 

that doesn’t.

It’s dawn, Husam, 

here in the splendor of coral, 

inside the Friend, in the simple truth

 of what Hallaj said.

What else could human beings want?

When grapes turn to wine,

 they’re wanting this.

When the night sky pours by, 

it’s really a crowd of beggars,

 and they all want some of this.

This we are now 

created the body, cell by cell,

 like bees building a honeycomb.

The human body and the universe 

grew from this, not this 

from the universe and the human body.

From The Book of Love 

Translated by Coleman Barks

A Lover of God

A Lover of God 

Sometimes a lover of God may faint 

in the presence. Then the beloved bends 

and whispers in his ear, “Beggar, 

spread out your robe. I’ll fill it with gold.

I’ve come to protect your consciousness. 

Where has it gone? Come back!”

This fainting is because lovers want so much. 

A chicken invites a camel into her henhouse, 

and the whole structure is demolished.

A rabbit nestles down with its eyes closed 

in the arms of a lion. There is an excess in 

spiritual searching that is profound ignorance.

Let that ignorance be our teacher! 

The Friend breathes into one who has no breath. 

A deep silence revives the listening
of those two who meet on the riverbank.

Like the ground turning green in a spring wind, 

like birdsong beginning inside the egg,

 like this universe coming into existence,

the lover wakes and whirls in a dancing joy, 

then kneels down in praise.

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

Hallaj

Hallaj

Hallaj said what he said and went to the origin

 through the hole in the scaffold.

I cut a cap’s worth of cloth from his robe, 

and it swamped over me head to foot.

Years ago I broke a branch of roses

 from the top of his wall. A thorn from that

 is still in my palm, working deeper.

From Hallaj, I learned to hunt lions, 

but I became something hungrier than a lion.

I was a frisky colt. He broke me 

with a quiet hand on the side of my head.

A person comes to him naked. It’s cold.

 There’s a fur coat floating in the river.

“Jump in and get it,” he says. 

You dive in. You reach for the coat.

 It reaches for you.

It’s a live bear that has fallen in upstream, 

drifting with the current.

“How long does it take!” Hallaj yells from the bank.

 “Don’t wait,” you answer. “This coat

 has decided to wear me home!”

A little part of a story, a hint. 

Do you need long sermons on Hallaj?

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

A Great Wagon

A Great Wagon

When I see your face, the stones start spinning!

 You appear; all studying wanders. 

I lose my place.

Water turns pearly. 

Fire dies down and doesn’t destroy.

In your presence I don’t want what I thought 

I wanted, those three little hanging lamps.

Inside your face the ancient manuscripts

 seem like rusty mirrors. 

You breathe; new shapes appear,

 and the music of a desire as widespread

 as spring begins to move 

like a great wagon.

Drive slowly. Some of us 

walking alongside are lame.

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

The Souls Friend

The Souls Friend

Listen to your essential self, the Friend.

 When you feel longing, be patient, 

and also prudent, moderate with eating and drinking.

Be like a mountain in the wind. 

Do you notice how it moves? There are sweet

 illusions that arrive to lure you away.

Make some excuse to them, “I have indigestion,”

 or “I need to meet my cousin.”

You fish, the baited hook may be fifty

 or even sixty gold pieces, but is it really 

worth your freedom in the ocean?

When traveling, stay close to your bag.

 I am the bag that holds what you love.

 You can be separated from me!

Live carefully in the joy of this friendship.

 Don’t think, But those others love me so.

Some invitations sound like the fowler’s whistle

 to the quail, friendly, but not quite 

how you remember the call of your soul’s Friend.

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

Who Makes These Changes

Who Makes These Changes 

Who makes these changes? 

I shoot an arrow right. 

It lands left.

I ride after a deer and find myself 

chased by a hog.

I plot to get what I want 

and end up in prison.

I dig pits to trap others

 and fall in.

I should be suspicious 

of what I want.

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

 

This Will Not Win Him

This Will Not Win Him 

Reason says,
I will win him with my eloquence.

Love says,
I will win him with my silence.

Soul says,
How can I ever win him
When all I have is already his?

He does not want, he does not worry,
He does not seek a sublime state of euphoria -
How then can I win him
With sweet wine or gold?

He is not bound by the senses -
How then can I win him
With all the riches of China?

He is an angel,
Though he appears in the form of a man.
Even angels cannot fly in his presence -
How then can I win him
By assuming a heavenly form?

He flies on the wings of God,
His food is pure light -
How then can I win him
With a loaf of baked bread?

He is neither a merchant, nor a tradesman -
How then can I win him
With a plan of great profit?

He is not blind, nor easily fooled -
How then can I win him
By lying in bed as if gravely ill?

I will go mad, pull out my hair,
Grind my face in the dirt -
How will this win him?

He sees everything -
how can I ever fool him?

He is not a seeker of fame,
A prince addicted to the praise of poets -
How then can I win him
With flowing rhymes and poetic verses?

The glory of his unseen form
Fills the whole universe
How then can I win him
With a mere promise of paradise?

I may cover the earth with roses,
I may fill the ocean with tears,
I may shake the heavens with praises -
none of this will win him.

There is only one way to win him,
this Beloved of mine -

Become his.

From http://allpoetry.com/poem/8534521-This_Will_Not_Win_Him-by-Mewlana_Jalaluddin_Rumi

Be Lost In The Call

Be Lost In The Call

Lord, said David, since you do not need us,
why did you create these two worlds?

Reality replied: O prisoner of time,
I was a secret treasure of kindness and generosity,
and I wished this treasure to be known,
so I created a mirror: its shining face, the heart;
its darkened back, the world;
The back would please you if you've never seen the face.

Has anyone ever produced a mirror out of mud and straw?
Yet clean away the mud and straw,
and a mirror might be revealed.

Until the juice ferments a while in the cask,
it isn't wine. If you wish your heart to be bright,
you must do a little work.

My King addressed the soul of my flesh:
You return just as you left.
Where are the traces of my gifts?

We know that alchemy transforms copper into gold.
This Sun doesn't want a crown or robe from God's grace.
He is a hat to a hundred bald men,
a covering for ten who were naked.

Jesus sat humbly on the back of an ass, my child!
How could a zephyr ride an ass?
Spirit, find your way, in seeking lowness like a stream.
Reason, tread the path of selflessness into eternity.

Remember God so much that you are forgotten.
Let the caller and the called disappear;
be lost in the Call.

From Love Is A Stranger
Translated by Kabir Helminski

I Trust You

I Trust You 

The soul is a newly skinned hide, bloody

 and gross. Work on it with manual discipline,

 and the bitter tanning acid of grief.

You’ll become lovely and very strong. 

If you can’t do this work yourself, don’t worry. 

You don’t have to make a decision, one way or another.

The Friend, who knows a lot more than you do, 

will bring difficulties and grief and sickness, 

as medicine, as happiness, as the moment

when you’re beaten, when you hear Checkmate,

 and can finally say with Hallaj’s voice,
I trust you to kill me.

From The Book of Love

Translated by Coleman Barks

If A Tree Could Wander

If A Tree Could Wander 

Oh, if a tree could wander
    and move with foot and wings!
It would not suffer the axe blows
    and not the pain of saws!

For would the sun not wander
    away in every night ?
How could at ev'ry morning
    the world be lighted up?

And if the ocean's water
    would not rise to the sky,
How would the plants be quickened
    by streams and gentle rain?

The drop that left its homeland,
    the sea, and then returned ?
It found an oyster waiting
    and grew into a pearl.

Did Yusaf not leave his father,
    in grief and tears and despair?
Did he not, by such a journey,
    gain kingdom and fortune wide?

Did not the Prophet travel
    to far Medina, friend?
And there he found a new kingdom
    and ruled a hundred lands.

You lack a foot to travel?
    Then journey into yourself!
And like a mine of rubies
    receive the sunbeams? print!

Out of yourself ? such a journey
    will lead you to your self,
It leads to transformation
    of dust into pure gold!

From Look! This Is Love

by  Annemarie Sachimme