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Poems by Rumi

edited May 2011 in Arts & Writings
This is a thread where we can share or discuss poems by Rumi, if we like.

Who Says Words With My Mouth?

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry, I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

(Source: http://peacefulrivers.homestead.com/Rumipoetry2.html#anchor_16679)

Comments

  • I like and always remember this from Rumi for what it represents to me about being a part of an online community, during a difficult transition time for me.

    Search the Darkness

    Sit with your friends, don't go back to sleep.
    Don't sink like a fish to the bottom of the sea.
    Surge like an ocean, don't scatter yourself like a storm.
    Life's waters flow from darkness. Search the darkness, don't run from it.

    Night travelers are full of light, and you are too: don't leave this companionship.
    Be a wakeful candle in a golden dish, don't slip into the dirt like quicksilver.
    The moon appears for night travelers, be watchful when the moon is full.
  • Andyrobyn, this poem speaks to me on a personal level. I have recently fallen somewhat in love with the night. The stars and moon are so beautiful. Nothing against the sun, good for him, but the moon for me is so gentle. Thank you for sharing this one for me. I like to think of other posters on this forum as night travellers, as I too, am going through a transition.
  • This is another from the writings of Rumi, which speaks to me .... my thanks also to Kunga invitation to share these pieces here ....

    I don't need
    a companion who is
    nasty sad and sour,
    the one who is
    like a grave
    dark depressing and bitter,
    a sweetheart is a mirror;
    a friend a delicious cake -
    it isn't worth spending
    an hour with anyone else,
    a companion who is
    in love only with the self
    has five distinct characters,
    stone hearted,
    unsure of every step,
    lazy and disinterested,
    keeping a poisonous face,
    the more this companion waits around
    the more bitter everything will get-
    just like a vinegar
    getting more sour with time,
    enough is said about
    sour and bitter faces,
    a heart filled with desire for
    sweetness and tender souls
    must not waste itself with unsavory matters


    Translated by Nader Khalili
  • Thanks also @andyrobyn
    I can't get enough of these poems .. I also love Hafiz and many others !

    Another -

    The intellectual is always showing off

    Love has nothing to do with
    the 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.
  • There is a community of the spirit.
    Join it, and feel the delight
    of walking in the noisy street
    and being the noise.
    Drink all your passion,
    and be a disgrace.
    Close both eyes
    to see with the other eye.

    From Essential Rumi
    by Coleman Barks
  • Only Breath

    Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu
    Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion

    or cultural system. I am not from the East
    or the West, not out of the ocean or up

    from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not
    composed of elements at all. I do not exist,

    am not an entity in this world or in the next,
    did not descend from Adam and Eve or any

    origin story. My place is placeless, a trace
    of the traceless. Neither body or soul.

    I belong to the beloved, have seen the two
    worlds as one and that one call to and know,

    first, last, outer, inner, only that
    breath breathing human being.

    From Essential Rumi
    by Coleman Barks
  • Not Here

    There's courage involved if you want
    to become truth. There is a broken-

    open place in a lover. Where are
    those qualities of bravery and sharp

    compassion in this group? What's the
    use of old and frozen thought? I want

    a howling hurt. This is not a treasury
    where gold is stored; this is for copper.

    We alchemists look for talent that
    can heat up and change. Lukewarm

    won't do. Halfhearted holding back,
    well-enough getting by? Not here.

    From Soul of Rumi
    by Coleman Barks
  • One who does what the Friend wants done
    will never need a friend.

    There's a bankruptcy that's pure gain.
    The moon stays bright when it
    doesn't avoid the night.

    A rose's rarest essence
    lives in the thorn.

    From Soul of Rumi
    by Coleman Barks
  • Wonderful stuff !!!
  • shanyinshanyin Novice Yogin Sault Ontario Veteran
    Asssssss if you posted a Rumi thread. I read a Rumi poem years ago and that it was awsome and I was posting it on another forum... I'll go get it BRB. hehehehe
  • shanyinshanyin Novice Yogin Sault Ontario Veteran
    I have lived on the lip of insanity. Wanting to know reasons. Knocking on a door, it opens. I have been knocking from the inside!
  • Thank you so much for this thread!
  • Where Everything Is Music

    Don't worry about saving these songs!
    And if one of our instruments breaks,
    it doesn't matter.

    We have fallen into the place
    where everything is music.

    The strumming and the flute notes
    rise into the atmosphere,
    and even if the whole world's harp
    should burn up, there will still be
    hidden instruments playing.

    So the candle flickers and goes out.
    We have a piece of flint, and a spark.

    This singing art is sea foam.
    The graceful movements come from a pearl
    somewhere on the ocean floor.

    Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge
    of driftwood along the beach, wanting!

    They derive
    from a slow and powerful root
    that we can't see.

    Stop the words now.
    Open the window in the centre of your chest,
    and let the spirits fly in and out.
  • Stop the words now.
    Open the window in the centre of your chest,
    and let the spirits fly in and out.
    Beautiful. Thanks,

    Abu
  • Floating_AbuFloating_Abu Veteran
    edited May 2011
    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.


    "Love is a Stranger", Kabir Helminski
    Threshold Books, 1993
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