Rumi

[Veshtrusja]

So nuk ke frike nga vdekja e :p

[PrInCiPiEl]

Veshtrusja
Shkruajtur më 23-10-2003

So nuk ke frike nga vdekja e :p

Përshëndetje Veshtrusja :)

Rumi thekson :

The seaman is always on the planks of hope and fear -
when the plank and the man become annihilated , there
remains only submerison.

(D 395)

KJO DMTH : FRIKA DHE SHPRESA NUK JAN MË TË NEVOJSHME KUR UDHËTARI ARRIN QËLLIMIN !


Çdo të mira në jetë.

PrInCiPiEl
:)

[PrInCiPiEl]

Rumi

• 
  Not only the thirsty seek the water
  the water as well seeks the thirsty.
  

(M 1:1741)

[PrInCiPiEl]

• Rumi
  
  
  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!
  (D no.1142)
  

[PrInCiPiEl]

Rumi

• O Thou who art my soul's comfort in the season of sorrow,
  
  O Thou who art my spirit's comfort in the bitterness of dearth!
  
  That which the imagination hath not conceived,
  
  that which the understanding hath not seen,
  
  Visiteth my soul from Thee; hence in worship I turn toward Thee.
  
  By Thy Grace I keep fixed on eternity my amorous gaze,
  
  Except, O King, the pomps that perish lead me astray.
  
  The favour of him who brings glad tidings of Thee,
  
  Even without Thy summons, is sweeter in mine ear than songs.
  
  If the never-ceasing Bounty should offer kingdoms,
  
  If the Hidden Treasure should set before me all that is,
  
  I would bow down with my soul, I would lay my face in the dust,
  
  I would cry, "Of all these the love of such an One for me!"

- Përkthyer nga : R. A. Nicholson

[PrInCiPiEl]

• Rumi

• 
  
  Yesterday your intoxicated dream image came with a cup in his hand.
  I said: "I don't drink wine!"
  He said: "Not doing it, then, is a pity!"
  I said: "I am afraid that if I drink, shame will fly out of my head,
  and I may put my hand on your curls, and then you'll recede from me!"
  
  Mathnawi
  

- Përkthyer nga : Prof.Dr.Annemarie Schimmel

[PrInCiPiEl]

Rumi

• Twere better that the spirit which wears not true love as a
  
  garment had not been: its being is but shame.
  
  Be drunken in love, for love is all that exists.
  
  Dismiss cares and be utterly clear of heart, like the face of a
  
  mirror, without image or picture.
  
  When it becomes clear of images, all images are contained in it.

- Përkthyer nga : R. A. Nicholson

[PrInCiPiEl]

Rumi

• 
  Once a man came and knocked at the door of his friend.
  His friend said, "Who art thou, o faithful one?"
  He said, "'Tis I," he answered, "there is no admittance.
  There is no room for the raw at my well-cooked feast.
  Naught but fire of separation and absence can cook the raw one and free him from hypocrisy since thy self has not yet left thee, thou must be burned in fiery flames. "
  The poor man went away, and for one whole year journeyed burning with grief for his friend's absence.
  His heart burned till it was cooked; then he went again and drew near to the house of his friend.
  He knocked at the door in fear and trepidation lest some careless word should fall from his lips.
  His friend shouted, "Who is that at the door?"
  He answered, "'Tis thou who art at the door, o beloved!"
  The friend said, "Since 'tis I, let me come in, there is not room for two I's in one house."
  

Mathnawi
- Përkthyer nga : E. H. Whinfield

[PrInCiPiEl]

Rumi

• 
  The man of God is drunken without wine,
  The man of God is full without meat.
  The man of God is distraught and bewildered,
  The man of God has no food or sleep.
  
  ...
  
  The man of God is a boundless sea,
  The man of God rains pearls without a cloud.
  
  ...
  
  The man of God is beyond infidelity and religion,
  To the man of God right and wrong are alike.
  
  ...
  
  

- Përkthyer nga : R.A. Nicholson

[PrInCiPiEl]

Rumi

• 
  You I choose, of all the world, alone;
  Will you suffer me to sit in grief?
  My heart is as a pen in your hand,
  You are the cause if I am glad or melancholy.
  Save what you will, what will have I?
  Save what you show, what do I see?
  You make grow out of me now a thorn and now a rose;
  Now I smell roses and now pull thorns.
  If you keep me that, that I am;
  If you would have me this, I am this.
  In the vessel where you give color to the soul
  Who am I, what is my love and hate?
  You were first, and last you shall be;
  Make my last better than my first.
  When you are hidden, I am of the infidels;
  When you are manifest, I am of the faithful.
  I have nothing, except you have bestowed it;
  What do you seek from my bosom and sleeve?
  
  
  

- Përkthyer nga : R.A. Nicholson