Archive for the ‘Sufism’ Category

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Wisdom Of Love

January 5th, 2012, posted in LoVE, Rumi, Sufism
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wisdom of love

One who does not have the Beloved
is like a person without a head.
One who flees the cage of love
is like a bird without wings.

What news could one have of the world
That the Keeper of Secrets does not have?

One who is pierced by the arrows of this glance
is like a warrior without a shield.

One who cannot look within himself
is like a man without valor.
One who can’t open the door of his own heart
is like a lover without a tear.

He has placed a door
In the middle of this path.
Only He who has placed it
can open it.

They say, “Wake up, the dawn has come!”
But in our sky who sleeps?
Who gets up at dawn?
Our sky
is without a sunrise
and without a sunset.

You’ve only been here a few days
and you’ve become so friendly with life.
I can’t even talk about death anymore.

You’re on the journey home
And your donkey has fallen asleep
in the middle of the road!

– Ghazal (Ode) 721
Version by Jonathan Star
“Rumi – In the Arms of the Beloved “
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997

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Become Beloved… The Light of Beloved

December 28th, 2011, posted in LoVE, MESSAGEs, Rumi, Sufism
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I have become Beloved…The Light of Beloved….
~ Rumi

Become Beloved... the Light of Beloved.

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The Glow Of The Light Of Daybreak

December 1st, 2011, posted in Rumi, Sufism
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The glow of the light of daybreak…something
Is in your emerald vault…
the goblet of the blood of twilight…
Is your blood-measuring bowl….
Mile on mile…torrent on torrent come dancing…
And gliding to the shore of your sea…
With all the abstention and aspiration of the moon…
The cap falls off the head of the moon…
When the moon raises its face…
To gaze upon your height….
Every morn the nightingales lament..
Like the heart-forlorn…
Ones to the melodies of those…
Attaining your verdant meadow…
The spirits seek vision…
The hearts all seek the Beloved…
You in whose broad orchard four streams are let flow…
one stream pure water…another honey..
the third fresh milk…the fourth your ruby wine…
You never give me a chance…
You are giving wine upon wine…
Where is the head…
That I may describe…
The drinking-cup of your wine?
Yet who am I?
Heaven itself in the round of this heavy bumper…
Finds not a moment’s peace from your love…
And the craving for you…
Moon of silver girdle…
You have experience of love…
Heaven….loverhood is apparent in your features.
When love is yoked to the heart…
It wearies of the heart’s chatter…
Heart…be silent…
How long this striving and inquiring of yours?
The heart said,
“I am His reed pipe…I wail as the breath inn me….”
I said,
“Be lamenting now…the slave of whose passion is the soul…”
We have opened your door…
Do not desert your companions…
In thankfulness for an all-embracing love..
Which has seized you from head to toe….

From Mystical Poems of Rumi: Volume 2,
Translated by A. J. Arberry

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Learning To Learn

October 19th, 2011, posted in Ink On PAPER, MESSAGEs, Scarface'S DIARY, Sufism
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learn from scars

When the great Sufi mystic, Hasan, was dying, somebody asked “Hasan, who was your master?” He said, “I had thousands of masters. If I just relate their names it will take months, years and it is too late. But three masters I will certainly tell you about.
One was a thief. Once I got lost in the desert, and when I reached a village it was very late, everything was closed. But at last I found one man who was trying to make a hole in the wall of a house. I asked him where I could stay and he said ‘At this time of night it will be difficult, but you can say with me – if you can stay with a thief.

And the man was so beautiful. I stayed for one month! And each night he would say to me, ‘Now I am going to my work. You rest, you pray.’ When he came back I would ask ‘Could you get anything?’ He would say, ‘Not tonight. But tomorrow I will try again, God willing.’ He was never in a state of hopelessness, he was always happy.

When I was meditating and meditating for years on end and nothing was happening, many times the moment came when I was so desperate, so hopeless, that I thought to stop all this nonsense. And suddenly I would remember the thief who would say every night, ‘God willing, tomorrow it is going to happen.’
And my second master was a dog. I was going to the river, thirsty and a dog came. He was also thirsty. He looked into the river, he saw another dog there — his own image — and became afraid. He would bard and run away, but his thirst was so much that he would come back. Finally, despite his fear, he just jumped into the water, and the image disappeared. And I knew that a message had come to me from God: one has to jump in spite of all fears.
And the third master was a small child. I entered a town and a child was carrying a lit candle. he was going to the mosque to put the candle there. ‘Just joking,’ I asked the boy, ‘Have you lit the candle yourself?’ He said, ‘Yes sir.’ And I asked, ‘There was a moment when the candle was unlit, then there was a moment when the candle was lit. Can you show me the source from which the light came?’
And the boy laughed, blew out the candle, and said, ‘Now you have seen the light going. Where has it gone? You will tell me!’ My ego was shattered, my whole knowledge was shattered. And that moment I felt my own stupidity. Since then I dropped all my knowledgeability.
It is true that I had no master. That does not mean that I was not a disciple. I accepted the whole existence as my master. My Disciplehood was a greater involvement than yours is. I trusted the clouds, the trees. I trusted existence as such. I had no master because I had millions of masters I learned from every possible source. To be a disciple is a must on the path.
What does it mean to be a disciple? It means to be able to learn, to be available to learn, to be vulnerable to existence. With a master you start learning to learn.

The master is a swimming pool where you can learn how to swim. Once you have learned, all the oceans are yours.
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Candle Light Beauty

October 12th, 2011, posted in Art, GiRLs, MESSAGEs, Rumi, Sufism
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Don’t be fooled by my beauty….The light of my face comes from the Candle of my spirit…

By : Rumi

KAAttOU RANi SCARfACe - rumi

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