My Favourate Collection Of Romi

Be with those who help your being Be with those who help your being. Don’t sit with indifferent people, whose breath comes cold out of their mouths. Not these visible forms, your work is deeper. A chunk of dirt thrown in the air breaks to pieces. If you don’t try to fly, and so break yourself apart, you will be broken open by death, when it’s too late for all you could become. Leaves get yellow. The tree puts out fresh roots and makes them green. Why are you so content with a love that turns you yellow? Ode 2865 Trans. Coleman Barks

Look at Love... Look at Love... how it tangles with the one fallen in love look at spirit how it fuses with earth giving it new life why are you so busy with this or that or good or bad pay attention to how things blend

why talk about all the known and the unknown see how unknown merges into the known why think separately of this life and the next when one is born from the last look at your heart and tongue one feels but deaf and dumb the other speaks in words and signs look at water and fire earth and wind enemies and friends all at once the wolf and the lamb the lion and the deer far away yet together look at the unity of this spring and winter manifested in the equinox you too must mingle my friends since the earth and the sky are mingled just for you and me be like sugarcane sweet yet silent don't get mixed up with bitter words my beloved grows right out of my own heart how much more union can there be translated by Nader Khalili

The Force of Friendship A sea-cow, a dugong, finds a special pearl and brings it up on land at night. By the light it gives off the dugong can graze on hyacinths and lilies.

The excrement of the dugong is precious ambergris because it eats such beauty. Anyone who feeds on Majesty becomes eloquent. The bee, from mystic inspiration, fills its rooms with honey.

So the dugong grazes at night in the pearl-glow. Presently, a merchant comes and drops black loam over the pearl, then hides behind a tree to watch.

The dugong surges about the meadow like a blind bull. Twenty times it rushes at nothing, passing the mound where the pearl is.

So Satan couldn't see the spirit-center inside Adam.

God says, *Descend*, and a huge pearl from Aden gets buried under dirt. The merchant knows, but the dugong doesn't.

Every clay-pile with a pearl inside loves to be near any other clay-pile with a pearl, but those without pearls cannot stand to be near the hidden companionship.

Remember the mouse on the riverbank? There's a love-string stretching into the water hoping for the frog.

Suddenly a raven grips the mouse and flies off. The frog too, from the riverbottom, with one foot entangled in the invisible string, follows, suspended in the air. Amazed faces ask, "*When did a raven ever go underwater and catch a frog?*" The frog answers,

"This is the force of Friendship." What draws friends together does not conform to Laws of Nature. Form doesn't know about spiritual closeness. If a grain of barley approaches a grain of wheat, an ant must be carrying it. A black ant on black felt. You can't see it, but if grains go toward each other, it's there.

A hand shifts our birdcages around. Some are brought closer. Some move apart. Do not try to reason it out. Be conscious of who draws you and who not.

Gabriel was always there with Jesus, lifting him above the dark-blue vault, the night-fortress world, just as the raven of longing carries the flying frog.

~Rumi Mathnawi, VI, 2922-2973 From 'This Longing' by Coleman Barks and John Moyne

There is a candle in your heart... There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled. There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled. You feel it, don't you? You feel the separation from the Beloved. Invite Him to fill you up, embrace the fire. Remind those who tell you otherwise that Love comes to you of its own accord, and the yearning for it cannot be learned in any school. From: 'Hush Don't Say Anything to God: Passionate Poems of Rumi' Translated by Sharam Shiva

One Whisper of the Beloved Lovers share a sacred decree – to seek the Beloved. They roll head over heels, rushing toward the Beautiful One like a torrent of water.

In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved – Our seeking is His seeking, Our words are His words. At times we flow toward the Beloved like a dancing stream. At times we are still water held in His pitcher. At times we boil in a pot turning to vapor – that is the job of the Beloved. He breathes into my ear until my soul takes on His fragrance. He is the soul of my soul – How can I escape? But why would any soul in this world want to escape from the Beloved? He will melt your pride making you thin as a strand of hair, Yet do not trade, even for both worlds, One strand of His hair. We search for Him here and there while looking right at Him. Sitting by His side we ask, "O Beloved, where is the Beloved?" Enough with such questions! – Let silence take you to the core of life. All your talk is worthless When compared to one whisper of the Beloved.

Ode 442 trans. by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva A Garden Beyond Paradise: The Mystical

My dear friend My dear friend never lose hope when the Beloved sends you away. If you're abandoned if you're left hopeless tomorrow for sure you'll be called again. If the door is shut right in your face keep waiting with patience don't leave right away. Seeing your patience your love will soon summon you with grace raise you like a champion. And if all the roads end up in dead ends you'll be shown the secret paths no one will comprehend. The beloved I know will give with no qualms to a puny ant the kingdom of Solomon.

My heart has journeyed many times around the world but has never found and will never find such a Beloved again. ah I better keep silence I know this endless love will surely arrive for you and you and you. trans. Nader Khalili.

The Story of My Life i was ready to tell the story of my life but the ripple of tears and the agony of my heart wouldn't let me i began to stutter saying a word here and there and all along i felt as tender as a crystal ready to be shattered in this stormy sea we call life all the big ships come apart board by board how can i survive riding a lonely

little boat with no oars and no arms my boat did finally break by the waves and i broke free as i tied myself to a single board though the panic is gone i am now offended why should i be so helpless rising with one wave and falling with the next i don't know if i am nonexistence while i exist but i know for sure when i am i am not but when i am not then i am now how can i be a skeptic about the resurrection and coming to life again since in this world i have many times

like my own imagination died and been born again that is why after a long agonizing life as a hunter i finally let go and got hunted down and became free

Lovers... Lovers think they are looking for each other, but there is only one search: wandering This world is wandering that, both inside one transparent sky. In here there is no dogma and no heresy. The miracle of Jesus is himself, not what he said or did about the future, Forget the future. I'd worship someone who could do that. On the way you may want to look back, or not, but if you can say "There's nothing ahead", there will be nothing there. Stretch your arms and take hold the cloth of your clothes with both hands. The cure for pain is in the pain. Good and bad are mixed. If you don't have both, you don't belong with us. When one of us gets lost, is not here, he must be inside us. There's no place like that anywhere in the world. from 'The Essential Rumi" Coleman Barks with John

Time to go Home Late and starting to rain, it's time to go home. We've wandered long enough in empty buildings. I know it's tempting to stay and meet those new people. I know it's even more sensible to spend the night here with them, but I want to go home. We've seen enough beautiful places with signs on them saying This is God's House.That's seeing the grain like the ants do, without the work of harvesting. Let's leave grazing to cows and go where we know what everyone really intends, where we can walk around without clothes on. ~ from: 'Open Secret' Trans Coleman

Only You Only you I choose among the entire world. Is it fair of you letting me be unhappy? My heart is a pen in your hand. It is all up to you to write me happy or sad.

I see only what you reveal and live as you say. All my feelings have the color you desire to paint. From the beginning to the end, no one but you. Please make my future better than the past. When you hide I change to a Godless person, and when you appear, I find my faith. Don't expect to find any more in me than what you give. Don't search for hidden pockets because I've shown you that all I have is all you gave. Trans. Nader Khalili

IF IF YOU CAN DISENTANGLE yourself from your selfish self all heavenly spirits will stand ready to serve you if you can finally hunt down your own beastly self

you have the right to claim Solomon's kingdom you are that blessed soul who belongs to the garden of paradise is it fair to let yourself fall apart in a shattered house you are the bird of happiness in the magic of existence what a pity when you let yourself be chained and caged but if you can break free from this dark prison named body soon you will see you are the sage and the fountain of life translated by Nader Khalili

Whoever Brought Me Here, Will Have To Take Me Home. 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. Trans. Coleman Barks.