The Servant Who Loved His Prayers

At dawn a certain rich man
wanted to go to the steambaths,
He woke his servant, Sunqur,
"Ho! Get moving! Get the basin
and the towels and the clay for washing
and let's go to the baths."

Sunquer immediately collected what was needed,
and they set out side by side along the road.

As they passed the mosque, the call to prayer sounded.
Sunqur loved his five times prayer.
"Please, master,
rest on this bench for a while that I may recite sura 98,
which begins,
'You who treat your slave with kindness.' "

The master sat on the bench outside while Sunqur went in.
When prayers were over, and the priest and all the worshipers
had left, still Sunqur remained inside. The master waited
and waited. Finally he yelled into the mosque,
"Sunqur,
why don't you come out?"
"I can't. This clever one
won't let me. Have a little more patience.
I hear you out there."
Seven times the master waited,
and then shouted. Sunqur's reply was always the same,
"Not yet. He won't let me come out yet."
"But there's no one
in there but you. Everyone else has left.
Who makes you sit so long?"

"The one who keeps me in here is the one
who keeps you out there.
The same who will not let you in will not let me out."

The ocean will not allow its fish out of itself.
Nor does it let land animals in
where the subtle and delicate fish move.

The land creatures lumber along on the ground.
No cleverness can change this. There's only one
opener for the lock of these matters.

Forget your figuring. Forget your self. Listen to your Friend.
When you become totally obedient to that one,
you'll be free.

-- Mathnawi III: 3055-76
Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995

Delusion is a divine curse

Delusion is a divine curse
that makes someone envious, conceited, malicious,
so that he doesn't know the evil he does
will strike him back.

If he could see his nothingness
and his deadly, festering wound,
pain would arise from looking within,
and that pain would save him.

-- Mathnawi II:2513-2517
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

Thanksgiving is sweeter than the bounty itself

Thanksgiving for the bounty is sweeter than the bounty
(itself): how should he that is addicted to thanksgiving go towards

(direct his attention to) the bounty?
Thanksgiving is the soul of the bounty, and the bounty is as a
husk because thanksgiving brings you to the abode of the Beloved.

Bounty produces heedlessness, and thanksgiving alertness:
hunt after bounty with the snare of thanksgiving to the King.
The bounty of thanksgiving will make you contented and princely so
that you will bestow a hundred bounties on the poor.
You will eat your fill of the viands and dessert of God, so that
hunger and begging will depart from you.

-- Mathnawi III: 2895-2899
Translation and Commentary by Reynold A. Nicholson
"The Mathnawi of Jalalu'ddin Rumi"
Published and Distributed by
The Trustees of The "E.J.W. Gibb Memorial"

The Sunrise Ruby

In the early morning hour,
just before dawn, lover and beloved wake
and take a drink of water.

She ask, "Do you love me or yourself more?
Really, tell the absolute truth."

He says, "There's nothing left of me.
I'm like a ruby held up to the sunrise.
Is it still a stone, or a world
made of redness? It has no resistance
to sunlight."

This is how Hallaj said, I am God,
and told the truth!

The ruby and the sunrise are one.
Be courageous and discipline yourself.

Completely become hearing and ear,
and wear this sun-ruby as an earring.

Work. Keep digging your well.
Don't think about getting off from work.
Water is there somewhere.

Submit to a daily practice.
Your loyalty to that
is a ring on the door.

Keep knocking, and the joy inside
will eventually open a window
and look out to see who's there.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
Castle Books, 1997

A Great Rose Tree

This is the day and the year
of the rose. The whole garden

is opening with laughter. Iris
whispering to cypress. The rose

is the joy of meeting someone.
The rose is a world imagination

cannot imagine. A meessenger from
the orchard where the soul lives.

A small seed that points to a great
rose tree! Hold its hand and walk

like a child. A rose is what grows
from the work the prophets do.

Full moon, new moon. Accept the
invitation spring extends, four

birds flying toward a master. A rose
is all these, and the silence that

closes and sits in the shade, a bud.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 1348
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin
"The Glance"
Viking-Penguin, 1999

Don't go back to sleep!

The early breeze before dawn
is the keeper of secrets.
Don't go back to sleep!
It is time for prayer, it is time to ask for
what you really need.
Don't go back to sleep!
The door of the One who created the world
is always open.
Don't go back to sleep.

-- Translation by Azima Melita Kolin
and Maryam Mafi
"Rumi: Hidden Music"
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 2001

In This Garden

O soul, who is that standing in the house of the heart? Who
may be on the royal throne but the king and the prince?*
He signaled with his hand, "Tell me, what do you want of
me?" What does a drunken man desire but sweetmeats and a
cup of wine?

Sweetmeats hanging from the heart, a cup of pure light, an
eternal banquet laid in the privacy of "He is the Truth."*
How many deceivers there are at the wine-drinkers' feast!
Beware, lest you fall, soft and simple man!

In the circle of reprobates beware lest you be eye-shut like
the bud, mouth-open like the rose.

The world is like a mirror, the image of the perfection of Love;
men, who has ever seen a part greater than the whole?

Go on foot like the grass, for in this rose garden the Beloved
like a rose is riding; all the rest are on foot.

He is both sword and swordsman, both slain and slayer, all
Reason, and giving reason to the mind.*

That king is Salah-al-din* may he endure forever, may his
bountiful hand be perpetually a necklace on my neck!

-- Translation by A. J. Arberry
"Mystical Poems of Rumi 2"
The University of Chicago Press, 1968

* According to Nicholson (Divan-i Sham, 238, 300) this is a reference
to the hadis' of the Prophet, where God says: "My earth and heaven
contain me not, but the heart of my believing servant contains me."
* "He is the Truth" Qur'an 22:6.
* Reason is annihilated in mystical love.
* "Salah-al-din Zarkub", who died c. 659/1261, was Rumi's pir'
(teacher) after Shams al-Din vanished he is here hailed as an
embodiment of the Spirit of Muhammad, the Perfect Man.

Look at me!

Look at me! If you gaze at anyone else, for certain you are
unaware of love for God!

Behold the face that has received its radiance from God!
Perhaps all at once you may win good fortune from it.
Since intellect is your father and the body your mother,
behold the beauty of your father's face! Show that you are his
son!

Know that from head to foot the shaykh is nothing but God's
Attributes, even if you see him in human form.
In your eyes he is like foam, but he describes himself as
the Ocean; in the eyes of men he is standing still, but every
instant he is traveling.

You still find it difficult to grasp the shaykh's state, even
though he displays a thousand of God's greatest signs - how
dull you are!

A spiritual Form, purified of the elements, reached the
heart's Mary from God's Court -

A passing messenger impregnated the heart with a breath
concealing the spirit's mystery.

Oh heart made pregnant by that King! When you put down
your burden, be sure to gaze upon it!

When Shams-i Tabrizi gives form to that burden, you
will become like the heart - and like the heart, you will fly
to the Unseen!

-- Ghazal 3072
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

Stranded Somewhere

If you are the body, that one is the soul

of the universe. If you're the soul, that

one is the soul within all souls. Wherever
you go, whatever you are, listen for the

voice that asks, "Who will be sacrificed
tonight? "Jump up and volunteer! Accept

this cup that is offered every second.
Love has written the thousand subtleties

of this call on my face. Read. If you're
bored and contemptuous, love is a walk in

a meadow. If you're stranded somewhere
and exhausted, love is an Arabian horse.

The ocean feeds itself to its fish. If
you're ocean fish, why bother with bread

the ground grows? These jars of grief and
trouble we call bodies, throw stones and

break them! My cage is this longing for
Shams. Be my worst enemy: shatter it!

-- Ghazal (Ode) 926
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin
"The Glance"
Viking-Penguin, 1999

Friends who guide you

The reflection cast from good friends is needed
until you become, without the aid of any reflector,
a drawer of water from the Sea.

Know that the reflection is at first just imitation,
but when it continues to recur,
it turns into direct realization of truth.

Until it has become direct realization,
don't part from the friends who guide you—
don't break away from the shell
if the raindrop hasn't yet become a pearl.

-- Mathnawi II: 566-568
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Daylight"
Threshold Books, 1994
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

Is this the face of God?

I serve that orb in heaven
say no word but Orb!
speak to me of nothing
but sweetness and light
Not of bother, but of treasure
and if you cannot find the words
don't bother.

Yesterday a craze came over me
Love saw, came up to me:
Here I am,
don't shout,
don't rip off your shirt,
hush, shh!

I spoke:
Love, I'm scared of that other thing
There is no other thing, say nothing!
I will whisper secrets in your ear
you just nod in asseveration
speak in semaphore

A nova, a celestial love
burst bright above the heartpath
so exquisite the quest of heart,
it cannot be expressed
I asked:
Heart, what orb is this?
heart intimated
beyond fathom
be quiet, forget!
Is this the face of man or angel?
Beyond men and angels
hush!

What is it? Tell me, I'm in a whirl
Whirl on, keep quiet!
You sit within this room
whose walls reflect
mere forms and suppositions
Get up, go out, move on,
keep quiet!
I said:
Heart, befather me,
for doesn't this match God's description?
Yes, my son, it does,
but do not tell.

-- Translation by Franklin D. Lewis
"Rumi -- Past and Present, East and West"
Oneworld Publications, Oxford, 2000

Franklin Lewis' notes:

I have used "orb" throughout these translations to render what is
literally "moon" (mah, qamar). this is the shining face of the
beloved, beside which all other thoughts and images pale.
Unfortunately, in English, "moon face" does not have a very happy
connotation.

*Franklin Lewis is Assistant Professor in the Department of
Middle Eastern Studies at Emory University in Atlanta. A specialist
in Persian literature, his thesis on Sana' i won the 1995 Best
Dissertation of the Year Award from the Foundation for Iranian
Studies.

Take my spirit totally from my body

Tonight, take my spirit totally from my body, so that I

may no longer have shape and name in the world!
At this moment I am drunk in Thee - give me another
cup! Then I may be obliterated from the two worlds in Thee,
and be done with it.

When I have been annihilated through Thee and be-
come what Thou knowest, then I will take the cup of non-
existence and drink it, cup after cup.
When the spirit becomes radiant through Thee,
when the candle lights up - if not consumed by Thee it is raw,
raw.

Give me now the wine of nonexistence instant by
instant; when I have entered nonexistence, I will not know
the house from its roof.

When your nonexistence increases, the spirit will
prostrate itself to you a hundred times - oh you to whose
nonexistence thousands of existences are slave!
Give me wine, measure by measure! Deliver me from
my own existence! Wine is Thy special grace, intellect Thy
general grace.

Send up waves from nonexistence to steal me away!
How long will I pace the Oceans shore in fear?
The snare of my king Shams al-Din is catching
prey in Tabriz, but I have no fear of the snare, for I am
within it.

-- Ghazal 1716
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

On the day of death"

On that final day
When my casket moves along
Do not think my soul
will stay in this world.

Do not weep for me, crying, Tragedy, tragedy.
You will only fall into the snares of delusion –
Now that's a tragedy!

When you see my lifeless body go by
Do not cry out, Gone, gone.
It is my moment of union.
It is when I come upon
the eternal embrace of my Beloved.

As I am lowered into the ground
Do not say, Farewell, farewell.
For the grave is but a veil
covering the splendor of Paradise.

Having seen the fall
Consider the rise.
What harm ever came to the setting Sun or Moon?

What appears to you as a setting
is for me a rising.
What appears to you as a prison
is for my soul an endless garden.

Every seed that enters the earth will grow.
Should it be any different with a human seed?
Every bucket that is lowered into a well comes up full.
Should I complain when instead of water
I pull up Joseph himself?

Do not look for your words here,
look for them over there.
Sing to me in the silence of your heart
and I will rise up
to hear your triumphant song.

-- Jonathan Star
"Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved"
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997

Fly up from this narrow cage

You who fly up from this narrow cage
veering off beyond the heavens
you'll see a new life after this;
how long will you bear this life's drear? . . .
This body wore a butler's garb
now sports a more fashionable form.
Death means life and this life is death
though heathen eyes see negative
All souls departed from this body
live on, but hidden now, like angels . . .
When body's bricks crumble, don't wail
Sir, you've only been in a jail
when you emerge from jail or pit,
you stand regal, tall, like Joseph

-- Ghazal 3172*
From the "Diwan-e Shamsi Tabrizi"
Translation by Franklin D. Lewis
"Rumi, Past and Present, East and West"
Oneworld Publications, Oxford, 2000

From Box To Box

Don't weep.
The joy that has gone
will come `round again in another form –
Have no doubt about this!

A child's first joy
comes from its mother's milk;
After the child is weaned
his joy comes from drinking sweet wine.

This supreme joy has no resting place -
It enters one form then another,
from box to box – an eternal movement
between heaven and earth.

Here it comes, pouring down from the sky,
seeping into the earth,
and rising up again as a bed of roses.

Now it is water, now a plate of rice,
Now the swaying trees, now a horse and rider.
It lies within these forms for awhile
then bursts forth to become something new.

Isn't this like our dreams? –
The body sleeps
while the soul moves on
to take other forms.
You say,
I dreamt I was a cypress, a bed of tulips,
the blossoms of roses and jasmines.

Then the soul returns, and you wake up –
the cypress is gone, the roses are gone.

I tell you truly,
everything you now see
will vanish like a dream.

I do not mean to trouble you, O friend,
with words so bold as these.
Perhaps you will only listen to God.
He speaks more gently than I.

But how will you ever hear Him with
All that blathering going on? –
Everyone is speaking about golden bread
yet no one has ever tasted it!

O my soul, where can I find rest
but in the shimmering love of his heart?
Where can I see the pure light of the Sun
but in the eyes of my own Shams-e Tabriz?

-- Version by Jonathan Star
"A Garden Beyond Paradise: The Mystical Poetry of Rumi"
Bantam Books, 1992

Both Worlds

There is God's wine, and this
other. Don't mix them. There

are naked pilgrims who wear only
sunlight. Don't give them clothes!

There are lovers content with
hoping. I'm not one of them.

Give a cup of pure fire to your
closest friend, healing salve

to the wounded. To Shams-i
Tabriz, offer up both worlds.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 917
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin
"The Glance"
Viking-Penguin, 1999

Recall the bounties

I beg you, ask each part of yourself
to recall the bounties of the World-Provider
which are hidden in the pages of Time.
These dumb parts have a hundred tongues.

By day and by night you are eager to hear stories,
while each part of you sings of His bounties.
Like the ice which is born of winter,
when the winter disappears,
it remains as a reminder of winter's hardships.
In December a few fruits are our reminders of summer's grace.
Similarly, my child, every single part within you
suggests the story of a bounty He bestowed.


-- Mathnawi, VI:1794-1796; 1801-1803
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance
Threshold Books, 1996
Persian transliteration courtesy of Yahyá Monastra

Occupy yourself with your own inward self!

Oh heart, place no honey in the mouth of the
ill! Speak not of entrancing eyes in the assembly of the blind!
Although God is nearer to His servant than his
jugular vein*, He is far from those who are far
from Him.

Occupy yourself with your own inward self!
Then like moons the concealed maidens will come out in
theophany from behind their veils!
Although in this work you will be lost to
yourself and the world, outside of yourself and the world you
will be famous.

If you are the moon of union, give a sign of
your union! Tell of the arms, the silver breasts, and the faces
of the houris!

And if you are yellow gold from separation's
heartache, where is separation's burning brand? Only the coins
of the wretched are so dull and tarnished.
Since you have no love, at least perform the
duties of servanthood, for God will never neglect the wages of
the wage earners.

Know that love for God is Solomon's seal-how
should Solomon's income be related to the wages of ants?
Throw away the garments of thought and
cogitation, for the sun only shines upon the naked!
Seek refuge in the locks of Shams-i Tabrizi, for
they rain down musk and will protect you from tyrants.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 2073
Translation by William C. Chittick
"The Sufi Path of Love"
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

Always be present, attentive, and ready in yourself

If a blow comes to you from Heaven,
be alert to a gift of honor after it;
for He is not the King to slap you
without giving you a crown
and a throne on which to rest.
The whole world is worth only a gnat's wing,
but a single slap may bring an infinite reward.
Slip your neck nimbly out of this golden collar
that is the world, and take the slaps that come from God.
The prophets suffered those blows on the neck,
and from that affliction they lifted their heads high.
But always be present, attentive, and ready in yourself,
youthful one, in order that He may find you at home.
Otherwise He will take back His gift of honor,
saying "I found no one there."

-- Mathnawi VI: 1638-1643
Version by Camille and Kabir Helminski
"Rumi: Jewels of Remembrance"
Threshold Books, 1996

What Jesus Runs Away From

The son of Mary, Jesus, hurries up a slope
as though a wild animal were chasing him.
Someone following him asks, "Where are you going?
No one is after you." Jesus keeps on,
saying nothing, across two more fields. "Are you
the one who says words over a dead person,
so that he wakes up?" "I am." "Did you not make
the clay birds fly?" "Yes." "Who then
could possibly cause you to run like this?"
Jesus slows his pace.

"I say the Great Name over the deaf and the blind,
they are healed. Over a stony mountainside,
and it tears its mantle down to the navel.
Over non-existence, it comes into existence.
But when I speak lovingly for hours, for days,
with those who take human warmth
and mock it, when I say the Name to them, nothing
happens. They remain rock, or turn to sand,
where no plants can grow. Other diseases are ways
for mercy to enter, but this non-responding
breeds violence and coldness toward God.
I am fleeing from that.

"As little by little air steals water, so praise
dries up and evaporates with foolish people
who refuse to change Like cold stone you sit on
a cynic steals body heat. He doesn't actually feel
the sun." Jesus wasn't running from actual people.
He was teaching in a new way.

-- Version by Coleman Barks
"The Essential Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 1995