Posted by: sailingspirit | April 24, 2011

Two More Beautiful Favorites

Happy Blessed Resurrection Day!!!  We’re free!!!  We have the victory!!!

In celebration, I just had to share two more beautiful Rumi poems I read today:

Love the Living One

To love merely for the sake of outer beauty and color
is not love but disgrace.
The peacock’s plumage is its enemy.
How many kings have died for their kingdoms?
They kill the musk deer for its scent.
They skin the fox for its pelt.
They take down the great elephant for its ivory.

They may kill you for what is not really yourself.
And they think your blood will lie quiet.
Today it lies on the victim;
tomorrow it will be on the killer.
However long the shadow cast by the wall,
the shadow returns to what cast it.
This world is the mountain; each action
is like a shout that echoes back.

Love of the dead does not last,
because the dead will not return.
But love of the living
is in every moment fresher than a bud,
both to the inward and the outward eye.
Choose the love of that Living One
who is everlasting, who offers you
the wine that increases life.
Do not say, “We have no entrance to that King.”
Dealings with the generous are not difficult.

Mathnawi I, 217-219; 221

The Ripening

Because of Your love I clap and dance;
drunk beyond myself, I don’t know what else to do.

My raw grapes have ripened,
I can’t make myself sour again.

The sweet-smelling Beloved is sugar Himself;
He put lumps of sweetness in my mouth.

Once He opened up his shop of delicacies,
He tore the roof off my shop and put me out of business.

People say: “You shouldn’t be like that.”
I wasn’t like this–He made me like that.

At first He broke the vat and the vinegar spilled;
I worried that He took a loss on me.

But for that one vat, He gave a hundred vats
specially for me, and made me laugh.

In His furnace of pain and sacrifice
He baked and toasted me like bread.

I grew old like Zulaikha from sorrow,
but a Joseph prayed for me, and I became young again.

Like an arrow I would fly off His hand,
but He took me in hand and made me a bow.

Now I fill heaven and earth with thankfulness,
for I was earth, and He turned me into heaven.

My heart traveled the path of the galaxies,
but He took me beyond the galaxies.

I saw plenty of ladders and roofs,
but He made me free from both ladder and roof.

When my fame spread throughout the world,
He hid me in the world like the soul within the body.

When He found me soft like a tongue,
He translated me into a new language.

I was a tongue connected to the heart,
and He revealed the secrets of the heart, one by one.

But when my tongue began to shed blood
like a sword, He sheathed me.

Stop, O heart!  For what that tender Beloved did
can never be said in words.

Divani Shamsi Tabrizi 971

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