The Love Poems of Rumi Like This
how the perfect satisfaction Like this. When someone mentions the gracefulness Like this. If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is, Like this. When someone quotes the old poetic image Like this. If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead, Like this. Like this. When someone asks what it means If someone asks how tall I am, frown This tall. The soul sometimes leaves the body, the returns. Like this. When lovers moan, Like this. I am a sky where spirits live. Like this. When someone asks what there is to do, How did Joseph's scent come to Jacob? Huuuuu. How did Jacob's sight return? Huuuu. A little wind cleans the eyes. Like this. When Shams comes back from Tabriz, Like this.
Love is the Water of LifeEverything other than love for the most beautiful God though it be sugar- eating. What is agony of the spirit? To advance toward death without seizing hold of the Water of Life.
A moment of happiness ,you and I sitting on the verandah, apparently two, but one in soul, you and I. We feel the flowing water of life here, you and I, with the garden's beauty and the birds singing. The stars will be watching us, and we will show them what it is to be a thin crescent moon. You and I unselfed, will be together, indifferent to idle speculation, you and I. The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar as we laugh together, you and I. In one form upon this earth, and in another form in a timeless sweet land.
LoversO lovers, lovers it is time
to set out from the world. I hear a drum in my soul's ear coming from the depths of the stars. Our camel driver is at work; Everywhere the murmur of departure;
All through eternityBeauty unveils His exquisite form in the solitude of nothingness; He holds a mirror to His Face and beholds His own beauty. he is the knower and the known, the seer and the seen; No eye but His own has ever looked upon this Universe. His every quality finds an expression: Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space; Love, the life-giving garden of this world. Every branch and leaf and fruit Reveals an aspect of His perfection- They cypress give hint of His majesty, The rose gives tidings of His beauty. Whenever Beauty looks, Love is also there; Whenever beauty shows a rosy cheek Love lights Her fire from that flame. When beauty dwells in the dark folds of night Love comes and finds a heart entangled in tresses. Beauty and Love are as body and soul. Beauty is the mine, Love is the diamond. They have together since the beginning of time- Side by side, step by step.
I swear , since seeing Your face,the whole world is fraud and fantasy The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf or blossom. The distracted birds can't distinguish the birdseed from the snare. A house of love with no limits, a presence more beautiful than venus or the moon, a beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart.
Let go of your worriesand be completely clear-hearted, like the face of a mirror that contains no images. If you want a clear mirror, behold yourself and see the shameless truth, which the mirror reflects. If metal can be polished to a mirror-like finish, what polishing might the mirror of the heart require? Between the mirror and the heart is this single difference: the heart conceals secrets, while the mirror does not.
The Divani Shamsi Tabriz, XIII
This is love : to fly toward a secret sky,to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First, to let go of live. In the end, to take a step without feet; to regard this world as invisible, and to disregard what appears to be the self.
Heart, I said, what a gift it has been to enter this circle of lovers, to see beyond seeing itself, to reach and feel within the breast.
The Divani Shamsi Tabriz, XIII
Love is reckless ; not reason.Reason seeks a profit. Love comes on strong, consuming herself, unabashed. Yet, in the midst of suffering, Love proceeds like a millstone, hard surfaced and straightforward. Having died of self-interest, she risks everything and asks for nothing. Love gambles away every gift God bestows. Without cause God gave us Being; without cause, give it back again.
I am a sculptor, a molder of form.In every moment I shape an idol. But then, in front of you, I melt them down I can rouse a hundred forms and fill them with spirit, but when I look into your face, I want to throw them in the fire. My souls spills into yours and is blended. Because my soul has absorbed your fragrance, I cherish it. Every drop of blood I spill informs the earth, I merge with my Beloved when I participate in love. In this house of mud and water, my heart has fallen to ruins. Enter this house, my Love, or let me leave. The Divani Shamsi Tabriz, XXXIV
Passion makes the old medicine new:Passion lops off the bough of weariness. Passion is the elixir that renews: how can there be weariness when passion is present? Oh, don't sigh heavily from fatigue: seek passion, seek passion, seek passion!
The beauty of the heartis the lasting beauty: its lips give to drink of the water of life. that which pours, and the one who drinks. All three become one when your talisman is shattered. That oneness you can't know by reasoning.
I am only the house of your beloved,not the beloved herself: true love is for the treasure, not for the coffer that contains it." The real beloved is that one who is unique, who is your beginning and your end. When you find that one, you'll no longer expect anything else: that is both the manifest and the mystery. That one is the lord of states of feeling, dependent on none; month and year are slaves to that moon. When he bids the "state," it does His bidding; when that one wills, bodies become spirit.
The springtime of Lovers has come,that this dust bowl may become a garden; the proclamation of heaven has come, that the bird of the soul may rise in flight. The sea becomes full of pearls, the salt marsh becomes sweet as kauthar, the stone becomes a ruby from the mine, the body becomes wholly soul.
The intellectual is always showing off,the lover is always getting lost. The intellectual runs away. afraid of drowning; the whole business of love is to drown in the sea. Intellectuals plan their repose; lovers are ashamed to rest. The lover is always alone. even surrounded by people; like water and oil, he remains apart. The man who goes to the trouble of giving advice to a lover get nothing. He's mocked by passion. Love is like musk. It attracts attention. Love is a tree, and the lovers are its shade.
Love has nothing to do withthe five senses and the six directions: its goal is only to experience the attraction exerted by the Beloved. Afterwards, perhaps, permission will come from God: the secrets that ought to be told with be told with an eloquence nearer to the understanding that these subtle confusing allusions. The secret is partner with none but the knower of the secret: in the skeptic's ear the secret is no secret at all.
When the rose is gone and the garden faded
Because I cannot sleep
Ode 314Those who don't feel this Love let them sleep. This Love is beyond the study of theology, sleep on. I've given up on my brain. If you're not completely naked, and sleep. "Like This" Coleman Barks, Maypop, 1990
A lifetime without Love is of no account
Last night you left me and slept your own deep sleep. Tonight you turn and turn. I say, "You and I will be together till the universe dissolves." You mumble back things you thought of when you were drunk.
Like This, Rumi, Coleman Barks, Maypop Books
I have been tricked by flying too close Now the candle flame is out, the wine spilled, The amount I thought I'd won, I've lost. How wonderful it was to be for a while Others only turn their faces on way, I have known pigeons who fly in a nowhere, and tailor who sew beautiful clothes (Mathnawi, V. 346-353) Like This,
Who is at my door?He said, "Who is at my door?"
In The Arc Of Your Mallet
I want to feel myself in you when you taste food, There's nothing worse than to walk out along the street
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