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Tema: Rumi

  1. #1
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    Rumi

    Anyone madly in love with dead has hope for something that lives
    Strive in the hope of a Living one who does not die in a day or two.
    Choose not a mean companion out of meanness,
    for intimacy of that sort is a borrowed thing.
    If your intimates other than GOD are faithful, what happened to your father and mother?
    Your intimacy with milk and breasts has gone, Your dread of grammar school has gone.
    That was a ray upon their being' wall-
    The ray has gone back to the Sun.
    When that ray falls upon something, You become its lover , O champion!
    Whatever you love in existence has received a gold plating from God's attributes…
    The beauty of the counterfeit coin is a borrowed thing-
    Beneath its beauty lies the substance of ugliness..
    From now on take water from heaven -
    You have seen no faithfulness from the drainpipe!



    - Rumi -

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    If thou fleest with the hope of peace and comfort,
    From that side thou shalt be afflicted with misfortune.
    There is no treasure without wild beasts and traps,
    There is no peace except in the spiritual retreat of GOD.


    Jalal al-Din RUMI

  3. #3
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    * Shënim :

    Jalal al-Din RUMI

    - Poet Persian që jetoi në shekullin e trembëdhjetë ...

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    If you want special illumination , look upon the human face :
    See clearly withing laughter the Essence of Ultimate Truth.


    - RUMI -

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    RUMI


    Ghazal 322

    I have come so that, tugging your ear, I may draw you to me,
    unheart and unself you, plant you in my heart and soul.
    Rosebush, I have come a sweet springtide unto you, to seize
    you very gently in my embrace and squeeze you.
    I have come to adorn you in this worldly abode, to convey you
    above the skies like lovers' prayers.
    I have come because you stole a kiss from an idol fair; give it
    back with a glad heart, master, for I will seize you back.
    What is a mere rose? You are the All*, you are the speaker of
    the command "Say"*. If no one else knows you, since you are I, I
    know you.
    You are my soul and spirit, you are my Fatiha-chanter*, be-
    come altogether the Fatiha, so that I may chant you in my heart.
    You are my quarry and game, though you have sprung from
    the snare; return to the snare, and if you will not, I will drive
    you.
    The lion said to me, “You are a wonderous deer; be gone! Why
    do you run in my wake so swiftly? I will tear you to pieces.”
    Accept my blow, and advance like a hero's shield;
    give your ear to naught but the bowstring, that I may bend you
    like a bow.
    So many thousand stages there are from earth's bounds to
    man; I have brought you from city to city, I will not leave you by
    the roadside.
    Say nothing, froth not, do not raise the lid of the cauldron;
    simmer well, and be patient, for I am cooking you.
    No, for you are a lion's whelp hidden in a deer's body: I will
    cause you suddenly to transcend the deer's veil.
    You are my ball, and you run in the curved mallet of my
    decree; though I am making you to run, I am still running in your track.



    Përkthyer nga : A.J. Arberry

  6. #6
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    Love is reckless


    Love is reckless; not reason.
    Reason seeks a profit.

    Love comes on strong,
    consuming herself, unabashed.


    Yet, in the midst of suffering,
    Love proceeds like a millstone,
    hard surfaced and straightforward.


    Having died of self-interest,
    she risks everything and asks for nothing.
    Love gambles away every gift God bestows.


    Without cause God gave us Being;
    without cause, give it back again.


    Rumi

  7. #7
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    - Rumi -


    O you who've gone on pilgrimage -
    where are you, where, oh where?
    Here, here is the Beloved!
    Oh come now, come, oh come!
    Your friend, he is your neighbor,
    he is next to your wall -
    You, erring in the desert -
    what air of love is this?
    If you'd see the Beloved's
    form without any form -
    You are the house, the master,
    You are the Kaaba, you! . . .
    Where is a bunch of roses,
    if you would be this garden?
    Where, one soul's pearly essence
    when you're the Sea of God?
    That's true - and yet your troubles
    may turn to treasures rich -
    How sad that you yourself veil
    the treasure that is yours!



    Përkthyer nga : Prof.Dr. Annemarie Schimmel
    Ndryshuar për herë të fundit nga PrInCiPiEl : 20-07-2003 më 02:01

  8. #8
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    - Rumi -

    - Përkthyer nga: Prof.Dr. Annemarie Schimmel


    Oh, if a tree could wander
    and move with foot and wings!
    It would not suffer the axe blows
    and not the pain of saws!
    For would the sun not wander
    away in every night ?
    How could at every morning
    the world be lighted up?
    And if the ocean's water
    would not rise to the sky,
    How would the plants be quickened
    by streams and gentle rain?
    The drop that left its homeland,
    the sea, and then returned ?
    It found an oyster waiting
    and grew into a pearl.
    Did Yusaf not leave his father,
    in grief and tears and despair?
    Did he not, by such a journey,
    gain kingdom and fortune wide?
    Did not the Prophet travel
    to far Medina, friend?
    And there he found a new kingdom
    and ruled a hundred lands.
    You lack a foot to travel?
    Then journey into yourself!
    And like a mine of rubies
    receive the sunbeams? print!
    Out of yourself ? such a journey
    will lead you to your self,
    It leads to transformation
    of dust into pure gold!



    PrInCiPiEl

  9. #9
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    ~ Rumi ~

    - Përkthyer nga : A.J. Arberry



    DESCENT

    I made a far journey
    Earth's fair cities to view,
    but like to love's city
    City none I knew

    At the first I knew not
    That city's worth,
    And turned in my folly
    A wanderer on earth.

    From so sweet a country
    I must needs pass,
    And like to cattle
    Grazed on every grass.

    As Moses' people
    I would liefer eat
    Garlic, than manna
    And celestial meat.

    What voice in this world
    to my ear has come
    Save the voice of love
    Was a tapped drum.

    Yet for that drum-tap
    From the world of All
    Into this perishing
    Land I did fall.

    That world a lone spirit
    Inhabiting.
    Like a snake I crept
    Without foot or wing.

    The wine that was laughter
    And grace to sip
    Like a rose I tasted
    Without throat or lip.

    'Spirit, go a journey,'
    Love's voice said:
    'Lo, a home of travail
    I have made.'

    Much, much I cried:
    'I will not go';
    Yea, and rent my raiment
    And made great woe.

    Even as now I shrink
    To be gone from here,
    Even so thence
    To part I did fear.

    'Spirit, go thy way,'
    Love called again,
    'And I shall be ever nigh thee
    As they neck's vein.'

    Much did love enchant me
    And made much guile;
    Love's guile and enchantment
    Capture me the while.

    In ignorance and folly
    When my wings I spread,
    From palace unto prison
    I was swiftly sped.

    Now I would tell
    How thither thou mayst come;
    But ah, my pen is broke
    And I am dumb.




    PrInCiPiEl

  10. #10
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    ~ Rumi ~




    Our death is our wedding with eternity.
    What is the secret? God is One.
    The sunlight splits when entering the windows of the house.
    This multiplicity exists in the cluster of grapes;
    It is not in the juice made from the grapes.
    For he who is living in the Light of God,
    The death of the carnal soul is a blessing.
    Regarding him, say neither bad nor good,
    For he is gone beyond the good and the bad.
    Fix your eyes on God and do not talk about what is invisible,
    So that he may place another look in your eyes.
    It is in the vision of the physical eyes
    That no invisible or secret thing exists.
    But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God
    What thing could remain hidden under such a Light?
    Although all lights emanate from the Divine Light
    Don't call all these lights "the Light of God";
    It is the eternal light which is the Light of God,
    The ephemeral light is an attribute of the body and the flesh.
    ...Oh God who gives the grace of vision!
    The bird of vision is flying towards You with the wings of desire.
    Ndryshuar për herë të fundit nga PrInCiPiEl : 20-07-2003 më 21:58

  11. #11
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    The Rubaiyat of Jalal Al-Din Rumi


    Përkthime të zgjedhura nga : A.J. Arberry



    Time bringeth swift to end
    The rout men keep;
    Death's wolf is nigh to rend
    These silly sheep.

    See, how in pride they go
    With lifted head,
    Till Fate with a sudden blow
    Smiteth them dead.



    Thou who lovest, life a crow,
    Winter's chill and winter's snow,
    Ever exiled from the vale's
    Roses red, and nightingales:

    Take this moment to thy heart!
    When the moment shall depart,
    Long thou 'lt seek it as it flies
    With a hundred lamps and eyes.



    The heavenly rider passed;
    The dust rose in the air;
    He sped; but the dust he cast
    Yet hangeth there.

    Straight forward thy vision be,
    And gaze not left or night;
    His dust is here, and he
    In the Infinite.



    Who was he that said
    The immortal spirit is dead,
    Or how dared he say
    Hope's sun hath passed away?

    An enemy of the sun,
    Standing his roof upon,
    Bound up both his eyes
    And cried: 'Lo, the sun dies!'



    'Who lifteth up the spirit,
    Say, who is he?'
    'Who gave in the beginning
    This life to me.

    Who hoodeth, life a falcon's,
    Awhile mine eyes,
    But presently shall loose me
    To hunt my prize.'



    As salt resolved in the ocean
    I was swallowed in God's sea,
    Past faith, past unbelieving,
    Past doubt, past certainty.

    Suddenly in my bosom
    A star shone clear and bright;
    All the suns of heaven
    Vanished in that star's light.



    Flowers every night
    Blossom in the sky;
    Peace in the Infinite;
    At peace am I.

    Sighs a hundredfold
    From my heart arise;
    My heart, dark and cold,
    Flames with my sighs.



    He that is my souls' repose
    Round my heart encircling goes,
    Round my heart and soul of bliss
    He encircling is.

    Laughing from my earthy bed
    Like a tree I lift my head,
    For the Fount of Living mirth
    Washes round my earth.



    The breeze of the morn
    Scatters musk in its train,
    Fragrance borne
    From my fair love's lane.

    Ere the world wastes,
    Sleep no more: arise!
    The caravan hastes,
    The sweet scent dies.



    If life be gone, fresh life to you
    God offereth,
    A life eternal to renew
    This life of death.

    The Fount of Immorality
    In Love is found;
    The come, and in this boundless sea
    Of Love be drowned.



    Happy was I
    In the pearl's heart to lie;
    Till, lashed by life's hurricane,
    Life a tossed wave I ran.

    The secret of the sea
    I uttered thunderously;
    Like a spent cloud on the shore
    I slept, and stirred no more.



    He set the world aflame,
    And laid me on the same;
    A hundred tongues of fire
    Lapped round my pyre.

    And when the blazing tide
    Engulfed me, and I sighed,
    Upon my mouth in haste
    His hand He placed.



    Though every way I try
    His whim to satisfy,
    His every answering word
    Is a pointed sword.

    See how the blood drips
    From His finger-tips;
    Why does He find it good
    To wash in my blood?



    Remembering Thy lip,
    The ruby red I kiss;
    Having not that to sip,
    My lips press this.

    Not to Thy far sky
    Reaches my stretched hand,
    Wherefore kneeling, I
    Embrace the land.


    I sought a soul in the sea
    And found a coral there;
    Beneath the foam for me
    An ocean was all laid bare.

    Into my heart's night
    Along a narrow way
    I groped; and lo! the light,
    An infinite land of day.

  12. #12
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    Jalal al-Din RUMI


    The garden of
    Love
    is green without
    limit
    and yields many
    fruits
    other than sorrow
    and joy.
    Love is beyond either
    condition:
    without spring,
    without autumn,
    it is always fresh.

  13. #13
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    ~ RUMI ~




    Art as Flirtation and Surrender


    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.

  14. #14
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    ~ Rumi ~

    Come, come, whoever you are.
    Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
    It doesn’t matter.
    Ours is not a caravan of despair.
    Come, even if you have broken your vow
    a hundred times.
    Come, yet again, come, come.



    Përkthimi : A.J.Arberry

  15. #15
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    • Rumi
    - Përkthyer nga : Prof.Dr.Annemarie Schimmel


    • The day I've died, my pall is moving on -
      But do not think my heart is still on earth!
      Don't weep and pity me: "Oh woe, how awful!"
      You fall in devil's snare - woe, that is awful!
      Don't cry "Woe, parted!" at my burial -
      For me this is the time of joyful meeting!
      Don't say "Farewell!" when I'm put in the grave -
      A curtain is it for eternal bliss.
      You saw "descending" - now look at the rising!
      Is setting dangerous for sun and moon?
      To you it looks like setting, but it's rising;
      The coffin seems a jail, yet it means freedom.
      Which seed fell in the earth that did not grow there?
      Why do you doubt the fate of human seed?
      What bucket came not filled from out the cistern?
      Why should the Yusaf "Soul" then fear this well?
      Close here your mouth and open it on that side.
      So that your hymns may sound in Where- no-place!

  16. #16
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    • Rumi
    - Përkthyer nga : Prof.Dr.Annemarie Schimmel


    • Without the eyes...

      Without the eyes - two clouds - the lightning of the heart:
      The fire of God's threat, how could it be allayed?
      How would the herbage grow of union, sweet to taste?
      How would the fountains all gush forth with water pure?
      How would the rosebed tell its secret to the meadow?
      How would the violet make contracts with jasmine?
      How would the plane tree lift its hands in prayer, say?
      How would the trees' heads toss free in the air of Love?
      How would the blossoms shake their sleeves in days of spring
      To shed their lovely coins about the garden wide?
      How would the tulip's cheek be red like flames and blood?
      How would the rose draw out its gold now from its purse?
      How would the ringdoves call like seekers, "Where, oh where?"
      How would the stork repeat his laklak from his soul,
      To say: "O Helper high, Thine is the kingdom, Thine!"
      How would the dust reveal the secrets of its heart?
      How would the sky become a garden full of light?





    Poezitë i seleksionoi : PrInCiPiEl

  17. #17
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    • Rumi

      * D 2077


      Look at me-
      these two cheeks
      saffron-stained,
      the wordly
      multi-hued
      signs of me,
      and my soul,
      ancient,wise,
      set within
      this,my frame-
      may my youth
      be as dust
      at its feet-
      Look sharp now,
      through my eyes-
      Do not let
      my seeming
      heartsomeness
      stel away
      with your heart.
      These, my lips,
      and once kissed
      by their fate,
      crunched out words
      so sweet that
      sugar blanched.
      Ears will hear
      the surface
      of my words,
      unpierced by
      my soulful
      thundering...

      What fires rage
      in this world
      from my breath,
      forevers
      bubble up
      immortal
      from words,
      evanesced?
      Gazin on
      Shams, the sun
      and the pride
      of Tabriz,
      what was it
      I saw that
      set all these,
      my meanings
      in motion?





    Nga libri i F.D.Lewis , Ass. Prof. në Emory University of Atlanta



    PrInCiPiEl

  18. #18
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    Rumi

    • Love has nothing to do with

      the five senses and the six directions:

      its goal is only to experience

      the attraction exerted by the Beloved.

      Afterwards, perhaps, permission

      will come from God:

      the secrets that ought to be told with be told

      with an eloquence nearer to the understanding

      that these subtle confusing allusions.

      The secret is partner with none

      but the knower of the secret:

      in the skeptic's ear

      the secret is no secret at all.



    Mathnawi III

  19. #19
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    Rumi

    Rumi



    • The heart like grain
      us like a mill
      how can the mill
      know why it turns ?
      Flesh , like the stone
      water,our thoughts
      Sotne says: It knows
      the course , Water.
      and Water says:
      Ask the miller
      he sends water
      cascading down.
      Miller tells you :
      Chewer of bread
      if not for this
      how bake, how eat ?
      And on oand on
      the cycle goes

      Silence! Ask God
      for He'll tell you

  20. #20
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    Jalal al-Din RUMI

    As I enter the solitude of prayer
    I put these matters to Him , for He knows
    That's my prayer-time habit, to turn and talk
    That's why it's said: " My heart delights in prayer"
    Through pureness a winddow opens in my soul
    God's message comes immeditate to me
    Through my window the Book, the rain and light
    all pour into my room from gleaming source
    Hell's the room in which there is no window
    To open windows , that's religion's goal.


    M3:2400-404

    Nga libri i F.D.Lewis

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