Tuesday 17 August 2010

Be Lost in the Call (Poem By Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī)

Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī 
Lord, said David, since you do not need us,
why did you create these two worlds?
Reality replied: O prisoner of time,
I was a secret treasure of kindness and generosity,
and I wished this treasure to be known,
so I created a mirror: its shining face, the heart;
its darkened back, the world;
The back would please you if you've never seen the face.
Has anyone ever produced a mirror out of mud and straw?
Yet clean away the mud and straw,
and a mirror might be revealed.
Until the juice ferments a while in the cask,
it isn't wine. If you wish your heart to be bright,
you must do a little work.
My King addressed the soul of my flesh:
You return just as you left.
Where are the traces of my gifts?
We know that alchemy transforms copper into gold.
This Sun doesn't want a crown or robe from God's grace.
He is a hat to a hundred bald men,
a covering for ten who were naked.
Jesus sat humbly on the back of an ass, my child!
How could a zephyr ride an ass?
Spirit, find your way, in seeking lowness like a stream.
Reason, tread the path of selflessness into eternity.
Remember God so much that you are forgotten.
Let the caller and the called disappear;
be lost in the Call.



3 comments:

  1. On Pain
    Kahlil Gibran
    Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
    Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
    And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
    And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
    And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.


    Much of your pain is self-chosen.
    It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
    Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
    For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
    And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.



    Varun Gautam

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  2. THE PROGRESS OF MAN

    First he appeared in the realm inanimate;
    Thence came into the world of plants and lived
    The plant-life many a year, nor called to mind
    What he had been; then took the onward way
    To animal existence, and once more
    Remembers naught of what life vegetive,
    Save when he feels himself moved with desire
    Towards it in the season of sweet flowers,
    As babes that seek the breast and know not why.
    Again the wise Creator whom thou knowest
    Uplifted him from animality
    To Man's estate; and so from realm to realm
    Advancing, he became intelligent,
    Cunning and keen of wit, as he is now.
    No memory of his past abides with him,
    And from his present soul he shall be changes.
    Though he is fallen asleep, God will not leave him
    In this forgetfulness. Awakened, he
    Will laugh to think what troublous dreams he had.
    And wonder how his happy state of being
    He could forget, and not perceive that all
    Those pains and sorrows were the effect of sleep
    And guile and vain illusion. So this world
    Seems lasting, though 'tis but the sleepers' dream;
    Who, when the appointed Day shall dawn, escapes
    From dark imaginings that haunted him,
    And turns with laughter on his phantom griefs
    When he beholds his everlasting home.

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  3. I personally thank u both for sharing such beautiful pieces of art.

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