Monday, April 13, 2009

I'm no critic

but I love that Rumi has his crazy time too. He makes me feel better in my craziness. It doesn't mean anything because it disappears. I can choose not to obey its wishes. I don't know why it feels good sometimes to be involved in it. I have gone too long without purging my layers. The truth is all relative. That gets me every time.



Confused and distraught



Again I am raging, I am in such a state by your soul that every
bond you bind, I break, by your soul.
I am like heaven, like the moon, like a candle by your glow; I am all
reason, all love, all soul, by your soul.
My joy is of your doing, my hangover of your thorn; whatever
side you turn your face, I turn mine, by your soul.
I spoke in error; it is not surprising to speak in error in this
state, for this moment I cannot tell cup from wine, by your soul.
I am that madman in bonds who binds the "divs"; I, the madman,
am a Solomon with the "divs", by your soul.
Whatever form other than love raises up its head from my
heart, forthwith I drive it out of the court of my heart, by your soul.
Come, you who have departed, for the thing that departs
comes back; neither you are that, by my soul, nor I am that, by your soul.
Disbeliever, do not conceal disbelief in your soul, for I will recite
the secret of your destiny, by your soul.
Out of love of Sham-e Tabrizi, through wakefulness or
nightrising, like a spinning mote I am distraught, by your soul.

"Mystical Poems of Rumi 2" A. J. Arberry
The University of Chicago Press, 1991

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