Return to Your Soul

Ölümsüz

 

For ages you have come and

gone courting this delusion.

For ages you have

run from the pain

and forfeited the ecstasy.

So come, return to

the root of the root

of your own soul.

Although you appear

in earthly form

your essence is

pure Consciousness.

You are the fearless

guardian of Divine Light.

So come, return to

the root of the root

of your own soul.

When you lose

all sense of self

the bonds of a

thousand chains

will vanish.

Lose yourself

completely,

return to

the root of the root

of your own soul.

You descended from Adam,

by the pure Word of God,

but you turned your sight

to the empty show

of this world.

Alas, how can you be

satisfied with so little?

So come, return

to the root of the root

of your own soul.

Why are you so

enchanted by this world

when a mine of gold

lies within you?

Open your eyes

and come 

Return to

the root of the root

of your own soul.

You were born from

the rays of God's Majesty

when the stars were

in their perfect place.

How long will you

suffer from the blows

of a nonexistent hand?

So come, return

to the root of the root

of your own soul.

You are a ruby

encased in granite.

How long will you

deceive us with

this outer show?

O friend, We can see

the truth in your eyes!

So come, return

to the root of the root

of your own soul.

After one moment with

that glorious Friend

you became loving,

radiant, and ecstatic.

Your eyes were

sweet and full of fire.

Come, return

to the root of the root

of your own soul.

Shams-e Tabriz,

the King of the Tavern

has handed you

an eternal cup,

And God in all

His glory is

pouring the wine.

So come! Drink!

Return

to the root of the root

of your own soul.

Soul of all souls,

life of all life - you are That.

Seen and unseen,

moving and unmoving -

you are That.

The road that leads

to the City is endless;

Go without head and feet

and you'll already be there.

What else could you be? -

you are That.

Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi

A Man and a Woman Arguing

  

Giver

One night in the desert

a poor Bedouin woman has this to say

to her husband,

“Everyone is happy

and prosperous, except us! We have no bread.

We have no spices. We have no water jug.

We barely have any clothes. No blankets

for the night. We fantasize that the full moon

is a cake. We reach for it! We’re an embarrassment

even to the beggars. Everyone avoids us.

Arab men are supposed to be generous warriors,

but look at you, stumbling around! If some guest

were to come to us, we’d steal his rags

when he fell asleep. Who is your guide

that leads you to this? We can’t even get

a handful of lentils! Ten years’ worth

of nothing, that’s what we are!”

She went on and on.

“If God is abundant, we must be following

an imposter. Who’s leading us? Some fake,

that always says, Tomorrow, illumination

will bring you treasure, tomorrow.

As everyone knows, that never comes.

Though I guess, it happens very rarely, sometimes,

that a disciple following an imposter can somehow

surpass the pretender. But still I want to know

what this deprivation says about us.”

The husband replied, finally,

“How long will you complain

about money and our prospects for money? The torrent

of our life has mostly gone by. Don’t worry about

transient things. Think how the animals live.

The dove on the branch giving thanks.

The glorious singing of the nightingale.

The gnat. The elephant. Every living thing

trusts in God for its nourishment.

These pains that you feel are messengers.

Listen to them. Turn them to sweetness. The night

is almost over. You were young once, and content.

Now you think about money all the time.

You used to be that money. You were a healthy vine.

Now you’re a rotten fruit. You ought to be growing

sweeter and sweeter, but you’re gone bad.

As my wife, you should be equal to me.

Like a pair of boots, if one is too tight,

the pair is of no use.

Like two folding doors, we can’t be mismatched.

A lion does not mate with a wolf.”

So this man who was happily poor

scolded his wife until daybreak,

when she responded,

“Don’t talk to me

about your high station! Look how you act!

Spiritual arrogance is the ugliest of all things.

It’s like a day that’s cold and snowy,

and your clothes are wet too!

It’s too much to bear!

And don’t call me your mate, you fraud!

You scramble after scraps of bone

with the dogs.

You’re not as satisfied as you pretend!

You’re the snake and the snake charmer

at the same time, but you don’t know it.

You’re charming a snake for money,

and the snake is charming you.

You talk about God a lot, and you make me feel guilty

by using that word. You better watch out!

That word will poison you, if you use it

to have power over me.”

So the rough volume of her talking

fell on the husband, and he fought back,

“Woman,

this poverty is my deepest joy.

This bare way of life is honest and beautiful.

We can hide nothing when we’re like this.

You say I’m really arrogant and greedy,

and you say I’m a snake charmer and a snake,

but those nicknames are for you.

In your anger and your wantings

you see those qualities in me.

I want nothing from this world.

You’re like a child that has turned round and round,

and now you think the house is turning.

It’s your eyes that see wrong. Be patient,

and you’ll see the blessings and the lord’s light

in how we live.”

This argument continued

throughout the day, and even longer.

A night full of talking that hurts,

my worst held-back secrets. Everything

has to do with loving and not loving.

This night will pass.

Then we have work to do.

Rumi

Ode 2180

 

Anika Salsera

From these depths depart towards heaven;

may your soul be happy, journey joyfully.

You have escaped from the city full of fear and trembling;

happily become a resident of the Abode of Security4 .

If the body’s image has gone, await the image-maker; if the

body is utterly ruined, become all soul.

If your face has become saffron pale through death, become a

dweller among tulip beds and Judas trees.

If the doors of repose have been barred to you, come, depart

by way of the roof and the ladder.

If you are alone from Friends and companions, by the help of

God become a saheb-qeran5 [lord of happy circumstance].

If you have been secluded from water and bread, like bread

become the food of the souls, and so become

...

This is love: to fly to heaven, every moment to rend a hundred veils;

At first instance, to break away from breath — first step, to renounce feet;

To disregard this world, to see only that which you yourself have seen6 .

I said, “Heart, congratulations on entering the circle of lovers,

“On gazing beyond the range of the eye, on running into the alley of the breasts.”

Whence came this breath, O heart? Whence came this throbbing, O heart?

Bird, speak the tongue of birds: I can heed your cipher!

The heart said, “I was in the factory whilst the home of water and clay was abaking.

“I was flying from the workshop whilst the workshop was being created.

“When I could no more resist, they dragged me; how shall I

tell the manner of that dragging?”

...

Sweetly parading you go my soul of soul, go not without me;

life of your friends, enter not the garden without me.

Sky, revolve not without me; moon, shine not without me;

earth travel not without me, and time, go not without me.

With you this world is joyous, and with you that world is joyous;

in this world dwell not without me, and to that world depart not without me.

Vision, know not without me, and tongue, recite not without

me; glance behold not without me, and soul, go not without me.

The night through the moon’s light sees its face white; I am

light, you are my moon, go not to heaven without me.

The thorn is secure from the fire in the shelter of the roses

face: you are the rose, I your thorn; go not into the rose garden without me.

I run in the curve of your mallet when your eye is with me;

even so gaze upon me, drive not without me, go not without me.

When, joy, you are companion of the king, drink not without

me; when, watchman, you go to the kings roof, go not without me.

Alas for him who goes on this road without your sign; since

you, O signless one, are my sign, go not without me.

Alas for him who goes on the road without my knowledge;

you are the knowledge of the road for me; O road-knower, go not without me.

Others call you love, I call you the king of love; O you who are

higher than the imagination of this and that, go not without me.

RUMI

in, “Mystical Poems of Rumi 2” 

Jalaluddin Rumi Balkhi

 

I

 Sometimes I forget completely

what companionship is.

Unconscious and insane, I spill sad

energy everywhere. My story

gets told in various ways: a romance,

a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy.

Divide up my forgetfulness to any number,

it will go around.

These dark suggestions that I follow,

are they a part of some plan?

Friends, be careful. Don’t come near me

out of curiosity, or sympathy.

II

Consider the difference

in our actions and God’s actions.

We often ask, “Why did you do that?”

or “Why did I act like that?”

We do act, and yet everything we do

is God’s creative action.

We look back and analyze the events

of our lives, but there is another way

of seeing, a backward-and-forward-at-once

vision, that is not rationally understandable.

Only God can understand it.

Satan made the excuse, you caused me to fall,

whereas Adam said to God, We did this

to ourselves. After this repentance,

God asked Adam, Since all is within

my foreknowledge, why didn’t you

defend yourself with that reason?

Adam answered, I was afraid,

and I wanted to be reverent.

Whoever acts with respect will get respect.

Whoever brings sweetness will be served almond cake.

Good women are drawn to be with good men.

Honor your friend.

Or treat him rudely,

and see what happen!

Love, tell an incident now

that will clarify this mystery

of how we act freely, and are yet

compelled. One hand shakes with palsy.

Another shakes because you slapped it away.

Both tremblings come from God,

but you feel guilty for the one,

and what about the other?

These are intellectual questions.

The spirit approaches the matter

differently. Omar once had a friend, a scientist,

Bu’l-Hakam, who was flawless at solving

empirical problems, but he could not follow Omar

into the area of illumination and wonder.

Now I return to the text, “And He is with you,

wherever you are,” but when have I ever left it!

Ignorance is God’s prison.

Knowing is God’s palace.

We sleep in God’s unconsciousness.

We wake in God’s open hand.

We weep God’s rain.

We laugh God’s lightning.

Fighting and peacefulness

both take place within God.

Who are we then

in this complicated world-tangle,

that is really just the single, straight

line down at the beginning of ALLAH?

Nothing.

We are

emptiness.

III

How does a part of the word leave the world?

How can wetness leave water?

Don’t try to put out a fire

by throwing on more fire!

Don’t wash a wound with blood!

No matter how fast you run,

your shadow more than keeps up.

Sometimes, it’s in front.

Only full, overhead sun

diminishes your shadow.

But that shadow has been serving you!

What hurts you, bless you.

Darkness is your candle.

Your boundaries are your quest.

I can explain this, but it would break

the glass cover on your heart,

and there’s no fixing that.

You must have shadow and light source both.

Listen, and lay your head under the tree of awe.

When from that tree, feathers and wings sprout

on you, be quieter than a dove.

Don’t open your mouth for even a cooooooo.

When a frog slips into the water, the snake

cannot get it. Then the frog climbs back out

and croaks, and the snake moves toward him again.

Even if the frog learned to hiss, still the snake

would hear through the hiss the information

he needed, the frog voice underneath.

But if the frog could be completely silent,

then the snake would go back to sleeping,

and the frog could reach the barley.

The soul lives there in the silent breath.

And the grain of barley is such that,

when you put it in the ground,

it grows.

Are these enough words,

Or shall I squeeze more juice from this?

Who am I, my friend?

IV

Who makes these changes?

I shoot an arrow right.

It lands left.

I ride after a deer and find myself

chased by a hog.

I plot to get what I want

and end up in prison.

I dig pits to trap others

and fall in.

I should be suspicious

of what I want.

Jalaluddin Rumi Balkhi 

A Great Wagon

 

When I see your face, the stones start spinning!

You appear; all studying wanders.

I lose my place.

Water turns pearly.

Fire dies down and doesn’t destroy.

In your presence I don’t want what I thought

I wanted, those three little hanging lamps.

Inside your face the ancient manuscripts

Seem like rusty mirrors.

You breathe; new shapes appear,

and the music of a desire as widespread

as Spring begins to move

like a great wagon.

Drive slowly.

Some of us walking alongside

are lame!

~

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty

and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study

and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

~

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase each other

doesn’t make any sense.

~

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.

Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill

where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don’t go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you.

The price of kissing is your life.

Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,

What a bargain, let’s buy it.

~

Daylight, full of small dancing particles

and the one great turning, our souls

are dancing with you, without feet, they dance.

Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

~

They try to say what you are, spiritual or sexual?

They wonder about Solomon and all his wives.

In the body of the world, they say, there is a soul

and you are that.

But we have ways within each other

that will never be said by anyone.

~

Come to the orchard in Spring.

There is light and wine, and sweethearts

in the pomegranate flowers.

If you do not come, these do not matter.

If you do come, these do not matter.

RUMI

O destino do coração

 

Os olhos foram feitos para ver coisas insólitas, 

fez-se a alma para gozar da alegria e do prazer. 

O coração foi destinado a embriagar-se 

na beleza do amigo ou na aflição da ausência. 

A meta do amor é voar até o firmamento, 

a do intelecto, desvendar as leis e o mundo. 

Para além das causas estão os mistérios, as maravilhas. 

Os olhos ficarão cegos 

quando virem que todas as coisas 

são apenas meios para o saber. 

O amante, difamado neste mundo 

por uma centena de acusações, 

receberá, no momento da união, 

cem títulos e nomes. 

Peregrinar nas areias do deserto 

nos exige suportar 

beber leite de camelo, 

ser pilhados por beduínos. 

Apaixonado, o peregrino beija a Pedra Negra 

ansioso por sentir mais uma vez 

o toque dos lábios do amigo 

e degustar como antes o seu beijo. 

Ó alma, não cunhes moedas com o ouro das palavras: 

o buscador é aquele que vai 

à própria mina de ouro. 

Rumi

A Great Wagon

 

Aida Pascual

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other”

doesn’t make any sense.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.

Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill

where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don’t go back to sleep.

Rumi

O ser humano

O ser humano 
é uma casa de hóspedes.

Todas as manhãs chega alguém novo.

A alegria, a depressão, a falta de sentido, 
como visitantes inesperados.

Receba e entretenha todos, 
mesmo que seja uma multidão de dores

que violentamente varrem a sua casa 
e roubam os seus móveis.

Ainda assim 
trate os seus hóspedes honradamente.

Eles podem estar limpando-o 
para um novo prazer.

O pensamento escuro, 
a vergonha, a malícia, 
encontre-os à porta rindo.

Agradeça a quem vem, porque 
cada um foi enviado 
como um guardião do além.

Rumi

EU SOU O QUE 'EU SOU'!

Vem. 

Conversemos através da alma. 

Revelemos o que é secreto aos olhos e ouvidos. 

Sem exibir os dentes, sorri comigo, como um botão de rosa. 

Entendamos-nos pelos pensamentos, sem língua, sem lábios. 

Sem abrir a boca,
contemos-nos todos os segredos do mundo,
como faria o intelecto divino. 

Fujamos dos incrédulos
que só são capazes de entender se escutam palavras e vêm rostos. 

Ninguém fala para si mesmo em voz alta. 

Já que todos somos um, falemos desse outro modo. 

Como podes dizer à tua mão : "toca",
se todas as mãos são uma? 

Vem, conversemos assim. 

Os pés e as mãos conhecem o desejo da alma. 

Fechemos pois a boca e conversemos através da alma. 

Só a alma conhece o destino de tudo,
passo a passo. 

Vem, se te interessas, posso mostrar-te.

Na verdade, somos uma só alma, 

Tu e eu, nos mostramos e nos escondemos tu em mim, 

Eu em ti, eis aqui o sentido profundo da minha relação contigo 

Porque não existe,
entre tu e eu,
nem eu,
nem tu... 

Rumi

Vem

Vem. 

Conversemos através da alma. 

Revelemos o que é secreto aos olhos e ouvidos.

Sem exibir os dentes, 

sorri comigo, como um botão de rosa. 

Entendamos-nos pelos pensamentos, 

sem língua, sem lábios.

Sem abrir a boca, 

contemos-nos todos os segredos do mundo, 

como faria o intelecto divino.

Fujamos dos incrédulos 

que só são capazes de entender 

se escutam palavras e vêem rostos.

Ninguém fala para si mesmo em voz alta. 

Já que todos somos um, 

falemos desse outro modo.

Como podes dizer à tua mão: "toca",

se todas as mãos são uma? 

Vem, conversemos assim.

Os pés e as mãos conhecem o desejo da alma. 

Fechemos pois a boca e conversemos através da alma. 

Só a alma conhece o destino de tudo, passo a passo.

Vem, se te interessas, posso mostrar-te.

Rumi

HUESPEDES

Esto de ser un ser humano 
es como administrar una casa de huéspedes.

Cada día una nueva visita.

Una alegría, una tristeza, una decepción,

alguna consciencia momentánea viene

como un visitante inesperado.

Dales la bienvenida y acógelos a todos ellos,

incluso aunque sean un grupo de penas,

que desvalija violentamente

el mobiliario de tu casa.

Trata a cada huésped honorablemente pues

podría estar haciendo espacio

para un nuevo deleite.

El pensamiento oscuro, la vergüenza, la maldad,

recíbelos en tu puerta sonriendo

e invítalos a entrar.

Sé agradecido a todo el que venga

porque todos han sido enviados

como guías del más allá.

Rumi

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house

every morning a new arrival

a joy, a depression, a meanness

some momentary awareness

comes as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture.

Still treat each guest honorably

he may be cleaning you out

for some new delight!

The dark thought, the shame, the malice

Meet them at the door laughing

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

Rumi