I guess he should be the oldest poet that I have ever able to know. Born on September 30, 1207 in Balkh, Greater Iran,now in Afghanistan, he has displayed his mystic and, what's the word, yes, Ruhani gesture since his early childhood. You can get a fragrance of Urdu, Persian, hindi, in his compositions.
Commonly known as Rumi, his real name is
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī.
His doctrine advocates unlimited tolerance, positive reasoning, goodness, charity and awareness through love. To him and to his disciples all religions are more or less truth. He was a vivid traveler and crossed many waters.During this period, Rumi also travelled to Damascus where he met one dervish. It was his meeting with the dervish Shams-e-Tabrizi that completely changed Rumi's life.
Rumi's love for, and his bereavement at the death of, Shams found their expression in an outpouring of music, dance, and lyric poems, Diwan-e-Shams-e-Tabrizi. He himself went out searching for Shams and journeyed again to Damascus. There, he realized:
Why should I seek? I am the same as
He. His essence speaks through me.
I have been looking for myself!
He. His essence speaks through me.
I have been looking for myself!
There are so much interesting things about Rumi's life. But here I am absolutely focused on his compositions. Although, there are so many, here are some of my favorites. So, its time to go in some trans.
Let Me Be Mad.!!
O incomparable Giver of life, cut reason loose at last!
Let it wander grey-eyed from vanity to vanity.
Shatter open my skull, pour in it the wine of madness!
Let me be mad, as You; mad with You, with us.
Beyond the sanity of fools is a burning desert
Where Your sun is whirling in every atom:
Beloved, drag me there, let me roast in Perfection!When the Rose is Gone from Mathanwi by Rumi.
When the rose is gone and the garden faded
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.
The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.
If love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.
How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?
Love wills that this Word be brought forth
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.
The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.
If love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.
How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?
Love wills that this Word be brought forth
I Throw it All Away.
You play with the great globe of union,
you that see everyone so clearly
and cannot be seen. Even universal
you that see everyone so clearly
and cannot be seen. Even universal
intelligence gets blurry when it thinks
you may leave. You came here alone,
but you create hundreds of new worlds.
Spring is a peacock flirting with
revelation. The rose gardens flame.
Ocean enters the boat. I throw
it all away, except this love for Shams.
revelation. The rose gardens flame.
Ocean enters the boat. I throw
it all away, except this love for Shams.
My Burning Heart..
My heart is burning with love
All can see this flame
My heart is pulsing with passion
like waves on an ocean
my friends have become strangers
and I’m surrounded by enemies
But I’m free as the wind
no longer hurt by those who reproach me
no longer hurt by those who reproach me
I’m at home wherever I am
And in the room of lovers
I can see with closed eyes
the beauty that dances
the beauty that dances
Behind the veils
intoxicated with love
I too dance the rhythm
of this moving world
intoxicated with love
I too dance the rhythm
of this moving world
I have lost my senses
in my world of lovers
in my world of lovers
2 comments:
I adore.
One of my favourites:
In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest,
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.
thats fantastic Tamu
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