go and die!

Go and die, go and die,

For this love go and die,

When in this love you die

You will let spirits fly.

Go and die, go and die,

Fear no death, don’t be shy

When in this dust you lie

Your spirit will soar up high.

Go and die, go and die,

Let this existence pass by

This existence is your tie

And prisoners you and I.

With an axe cut the tie

And this, your prison, defy

When your chains you untie

With Kings, identify.

Go and die, go and die,

The handsome King satisfy

For the Lord when you die

Your glories multiply

.
Go and die, go and die,

Like the tearful clouds, cry

When the cloud has run dry

You are the light of the eye.

Silence try, silence try

As close as you get to die

All your life, you apply

Your sigh and silence deny.

a thirsty fish

I don't get tired of you.

Don't grow weary

of being compassionate toward me!

All this thirst equipment

must surely be tired of me,

the water jar, the water carrier.

I have a thirsty fish in me

that can never find enough

of what it's thirsty for!

Show me the way to the ocean!

Break these half-measures,

these small containers.

All this fantasy and grief.

Let my house be drowned in the wave

that rose last night in the courtyard

hidden in the center of my chest.

Joseph fell like the moon into my well.

The harvest I expected was washed away.

But no matter.

A fire has risen above my tombstone hat.

I don't want learning, or dignity,or respectability.

I want this music and this dawn

and the warmth of your cheek against mine.

The grief-armies assemble,

but I'm not going with them.

This is how it always is

when I finish a poem.

A great silence comes over me,

and I wonder why I ever thought to use language!

translated by Coleman Barks

in every breath

in every breath

if you’re the center

of your own desires

you’ll lose the grace

of your beloved

but if in every breath

you blow away

your self claim

the ecstasy of love

will soon arrive

in every breath

if you’re the center

of your own thoughts

the sadness of autumn

will fall on you

but if in every breath

you strip naked

just like a winter

the joy of spring

will grow from within

all your impatience

comes from the push

for gain of patience

let go of the effort

and peace will arrive

all your unfulfilled desires

are from your greed

for gain of fulfillments

let go of them all

and they will be sent as gifts

fall in love with

the agony of love

not the ecstasy

then the beloved

will fall in love with you

Translation by Nader Khalili “Rumi, Fountain of Fire”Cal-Earth Press, 1994

the mirror

Let go of your worries
and 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

prayer

Oh Our Lord God

I breathe but for Thee,

and I stretch forth my spirit

towards Thee,

that I may recite Thy zikr abundantly,

commemorating Thee frequently.

Oh Our Lord God,

lay not upon me an ailment

that may make me forgetful to commorate Thee,

or lesson my yearning towards Thee,

or cut of the delight

I experience in reciting the litanies of Thy praise.

Grant me not a health

that may engender or increase in me

presumtuous ot thankless insolence.

For Thy Mercy’s sake

Oh Thou, Most Merciful of the Compassionate

.Amen

what's to be done

What is to be done, O Moslems?

for I do not recognize myself.

I am neither Christian, nor Jew, nor Gabr, nor Moslem.

I am not of the East, nor of the West,

nor of the land, nor of the sea;

I am not of Nature's mint,

nor of the circling' heaven.

I am not of earth, nor of water,

nor of air, nor of fire;

I am not of the empyrean, nor of the dust,

nor of existence, nor of entity.

I am not of India, nor of China,

nor of Bulgaria, nor of Saqsin

I am not of the kingdom of 'Iraqian,

nor of the country of Khorasan

I am not of the this world, nor of the next,

nor of Paradise, nor of Hell

I am not of Adam, nor of Eve,

nor of Eden and Rizwan.

My place is the Placeless,

my trace is the Traceless ; '

Tis neither body nor soul,

for I belong to the soul of the Beloved.

I have put duality away,

I have seen that the two worlds are one;

One I seek, One I know J One I see, One I call.

He is the first, He is the last,

He is the outward, He is the inward;

I know none other except 'Ya Hu' and 'Ya man Hu.

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 thee,

From that time and from that hour I repent of my life.

If once in this world I win a moment with thee,

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.

From Divan-i Shams

about mevlana

ABOUT MAWLANA JALALUDDIN RUMI

Jalaluddin Rumi (may God sanctify his holy spirit) was one of the greatest Muslim saints and mystics.

He has also been hailed by Western scholars as the greatest mystical poet of all time.1 And popularized versions of his poetry have made him the best-selling poet in America in recent years

2 -- after a period of over 700 years, during which his fame has endured in the Middle East, Central Asia, and the Indian subcontinent. The popularity of his poetry has spread in the West because of its heart-felt themes of lover-beloved mysticism, and its spiritual joy which seems to emanate even from the most distorted versions in English.

However, the popularization of his poetry has also been attained by a number of sacrifices:

(1) a lack of accuracy of the meanings of his words and teachings;

and (2), a deliberate minimization and evasion of verses in his poetry that reveal that he was a pious Muslim all his life, and a very devoted follower of the prayerful daily life exemplified by the Prophet Muhammad (may God pour blessings upon him).

He was born in what is now the nation of Tajikistan (the country north of Afghanistan) in town of Wakhsh , where his father worked as a Muslim preacher and scholar.

Wahksh was part of the cultural area of the ancient city of Balkh (in present-day Afghanistan), which had been a major center of Islamic learning for five hundred years before Rumi was born

His father, also a great mystic, or sufi master, was from Balkh.

He named his son Muhammad, but later called him by the additional name, Jalâlu 'd-deen ("the Glory of the Faith").

His full name was Jalâlu 'd-deen Muhammad bin (= son of) Husayn al-Balkhî. Later, when he moved to Anatolia (present- day Turkey) with his family, he became known as Jalâlu 'd-deen Muhammad al-Roomee.

This is because Anatolia had been called for centuries "Rûm" (a form of "Rome") which meant "the land of the Greeks" (who had long ruled the area from Constantinople, the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire and later the Byzantine Empire).

In the East, he has always been known as Mawlânâ (pronounced "Mowlânâ" in Iran, India, and Pakistan; pronounced "Mevlana" in Turkey).

This means "our Master" in Arabic, and was traditionally a title given to Muslim scholars. However, due to his great fame, the respectful title "Mawlânâ" quickly came to refer primarily to Jalaluddin Rumi.

Only in the West has he been called "Rumi." Rumi must have memorized much or all of the Holy Qur'an when he was young, because the Mathnawi and his other poetry are filled with direct quotes in Arabic, Persian paraphrases, and references to Qur'anic verses.

He belonged to the Hanafi school of Islamic law, one of the four orthodox legal traditions of the Sunni branch of Islam.

This means that his daily religious behavior was faithful to the many details of the Hanafi tradition of how to follow the example of the Prophet Muhammad.

Rumi's first sufi master, Sayyid Burhânu 'd-dîn Termezî, was his father's leading sufi disciple who came to Anatolia after hearing of the death of Rumi's father.

Rumi was his sufi disciple for ten years, during part of which he was sent to Syria to obtain a traditional Islamic education.

Sayyid Burhanuddin was also a profound mystic who instilled in Rumi a love of Persian sufi poetry and ordered him to do a number of lengthy solitary prayer retreats.

rumi was 37 years of age when he met his second sufi master, Shamsu 'd-deen Muhammad al-Tabreezee (from Tabrîz), traditionally believed to have been about 60 years old.

It is now known that Shams was not an illiterate and "wild" dervish as previously thought by Western scholars, but had a solid Islamic education and was literate and fluent in Arabic as well as Persian.

And Shams himself belonged to another major orthodox school of Sunni Islamic law, called Shâfi`î.

3 In the "Discourses of Shams,"4 a collection of notes recorded by his disciples (among whom was Rumi's son, Sultân Walad), Shams reveals himself not only to be a profound mystic, but very knowledgeable about traditional and mystical interpretations of verses from the Qur'an and sayings of the Prophet Muhammad.

And he criticized at least one famous sufi master for not following the daily religious behavior of the Prophet.

5 In a biography of Rumi, written by a disciple of Rumi's grandson, Aflâkî, along with many miracle stories, are many accounts of how Rumi prayed the five daily ritual Islamic prayers, fasted during the month of Ramadan, and did many extended voluntary fasts. And there are many accounts in which he voiced traditional Islamic beliefs on many topics.

But it is in the masterpiece of his later life, the Mathnawî-ye Ma`nawî (literally, "Rhymed Couplets of Deep Spiritual Meaning") that he reveals himself as both a profound mystic and an extremely devout Muslim.

And a study of his stories and sayings of the Prophet Muhammad reveals his veneration and love for the Holy Prophet and the Revelation that was sent to him from God Most High. Mawlânâ Jalâluddîn Muhammad al-Balkhî al-Rûmî died in 1273 and was buried next to his father's tomb in Konya, Turkey. The anniversary of his death was commemorated for centuries according to the Islamic lunar calendar, but has been celebrated in Turkey for the past 50 years according to the Western solar calendar on December 17.

On the night of this date, Mevlevis all over the world whirl in remembrance and glorification of God, and many kinds of groups read Rumi's poetry in their own languages.

**

The day I've died, my pall is moving on

-But do not think my heart is still on earth!

Don't weep and pity me: "Oh woe, how awful!"

You fall in devil's snare - woe, that is awful!

Don't cry "Woe, parted!" at my burial

-For me this is the time of joyful meeting!

Don't say "Farewell!" when I'm put in the grave

-A curtain is it for eternal bliss.

You saw "descending" -

now look at the rising!

Is setting dangerous for sun and moon?

To you it looks like setting, but it's rising;

The coffin seems a jail, yet it means freedom.

Which seed fell in the earth that did not grow there?

Why do you doubt the fate of human seed?

What bucket came not filled from out the cistern?

Why should the Yusaf "Soul" then fear this well?

Close here your mouth and open it on that side.

So that your hymns may sound in Where- no-place!

http://www.dar-al-masnavi.org/about-rumi.html

everything except love is devoured by love..

The wild beast wouldn’t dare to devour the flesh of the lover:

Love is recognized both by the corrupt and by the good;

and if the beast should attempt to rip the lover apart with words,

the lover’s flesh will become a fatal poison.

To the beak of Love the two worlds are but a single grain.

Everything except love is devoured by Love.

translated by Camille and Kabir Helminski“Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance”Threshold Books, 1996

open the door!

Open the door, a novice has arrived!

Offer me a cup of wine and walk with me for a while.

You don’t mind long distances

because on the way you lay your traps,

and plan how to break my heart

.You fulfilled hundreds of my wishes,

yet my heartstill hungers for more.

Your kindness warms and blesses everyone

even the sun bows before you.

Please, let me be your slave

and silently walk by your side.

I will find new meaning

in every joy and sorrow.

In that silenceI will hear the voice of spirit,

and freedfrom this worldI will see

another order where the end is another beginning..

mevlana rumi

the reed flute

Pay heed to the grievances of the reed

Of what divisive separations breed

From the reedbed cut away just like a weed

My music people curse, warn and heed

Sliced to pieces my bosom and heart bleed

While I tell this tale of desire and need.

Whoever who fell away from the source

Will seek and toil until returned to course

Of grievances I sang to every crowd

Befriended both the humble and the proud

Each formed conjecture in their own mind

As though to my secrets they were blind

My secrets are buried within my grief

Yet to the eye and ear, that’s no relief

Body and soul both unveiled in trust

Yet sight of soul for body is not a must

.The flowing air in this reed is fire

Extinct, if with passion won’t inspire

Fire of love is set upon the reed

Passion of love this wine will gladly feed

Reed is match for he who love denied

Our secrets unveiled, betrayed, defied

.Who has borne deadly opium like the reed?

Or lovingly to betterment guide and lead?

Of the bloody path, will tell many a tale

Of Lover’s love, even beyond the veil.

None but the fool can hold wisdom dear

Who will care for the tongue if not ear?

In this pain, of passing days we lost track

Each day carried the pain upon its back

If days pass, let them go without fear

You remain, near, clear, and so dear.

Only the fish will unquenchingly thirst,

Surely passing of time, the hungry curst

.State of the cooked is beyond the raw

The wise in silence gladly withdraw.

Cut the chain my son, and release the pain

Silver rope and golden thread, must refrain

If you try to fit the ocean in a jug

How small will be your drinking mug?

Never filled, ambitious boy, greedy girl,

Only if satisfied, oyster makes pearl

.Whoever lovingly lost shirt on his back

Was cleansed from greed and wanton attack

Rejoice in our love, which would trade

Ailments, of every shade and every grade

With the elixir of self-knowing, chaste

With Hippocratic and Galenic taste.

Body of dust from love ascends to the skies

The dancing mountain thus begins to rise

It was the love of the Soul of Mount Sinai

Drunken mountain, thundering at Moses, nigh.

If coupled with those lips that blow my reed

Like the reed in making music I succeed;

Whoever away from those lips himself found

Lost his music though made many a sound.

When the flower has withered, faded away

The canary in praise has nothing to say.

All is the beloved, the lover is the veil

Alive is the beloved, the lover in death wail

Fearless love will courageously dare

Like a bird that’s in flight without a care

How can I be aware, see what’s around,

If there is no showing light or telling sound?

Seek the love that cannot be confined

Reflection in the mirror is object defined.

Do you know why the mirror never lies?

Because keeping a clean face is its prize.

Friends, listen to the tale of this reed

For it is the story of our life, indeed!

mathnavi

translated by: Shahriar ShahriariVancouver, CanadaApril 27, 1998

candle-like

Like a candle I shine, reflecting the light

Turn my fortune so I can shed myself candle-like

The promise of the morning breeze,

of joining Thee day and night

Burning, yellow, shaking, crying and humble, candle-like.

Thy flowing hair, like scissors sheer my soul at its height

In this fire of separation burn me no more, candle-like.

Pearls overflowing from the sea of my eye, fill my bosom in delight

My burning heart sent its flames blazing upward, candle-like.

Solar flares set in the celestial lantern, sooth the sight

Every morn dam my tears and shed no more, candle-like.

Thy face is spring like, thy fire sorrows fight

How long burn in this solstice of separation, candle-like?

From the memory of thy light, every night flames take flight

If only my heart fire would burn, my soul desire candle-like.

How long burn thyself Shams-e Tabrizi, thy love beaming bright

We know of nothing other than burning up, candle-like.

divan shams tabrizi

translation:
Shahriar ShahriariVancouver, CanadaJuly 1, 1998

if you are happy..

When you whirl,

your eye sees the room whirling, too.

If you sail in a ship over the sea,

it seems the seashore is running past.

If your heart is oppressed with struggle,

the whole atmosphere of the world feels tight;

but if you are happy as your friends would wish,

this world seems to be a garden of roses.

RumiVersion by Camille and Kabir Helminski“Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance”, 1996

get rid of yourself!!

introduction

to the one who tought my heart how to beat

to the one who elevated my soul beyond heavens

to you mevlana rumi,

i write my words

..

Rofaida