Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi (1207 -1273) is one of the world's greatest mystic poets. While a Sufi (and FOUNDER of the Mevlevi order of Sufi Dervishes, imaged in the West as "whirling dervishes") he was renowned and respected among people of all faiths. His path is one of Loving, Devotion, Longing and Union.

The way of love is not a subtle argument. The door there is devastation. Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom. How do they learn it? They fall, and falling, they're given wings. --Rumi, from "Birdsong", p. 13

It appears that most of the selections being proffered here are from the recent Harper San Francisco publication of THE ESSENTIAL RUMI, translated by Coleman Barks with John Moyne (ISBN 0-06-250958-6; hardcopy; $18), the first definitive one-volume collection of the enduring popular spiritual poetry by this extraordinary thirteenth-century Sufi mystic. Until the age of thirty-seven, Jalaluddin Rumi (1207-1273) was a brilliant scholar and popular teacher, but his life changed forever when he met the powerful wandering dervish, Shams of Tabriz -- of whom Rumi said, "What I had thought of before as God, I met today in a human being." From this mysterious and ecstatic friendship came a new plateau of spiritual enlightment -- an encounter with the inner Friend, the soul, the Beloved. Rumi expressed this potent experience through an enormous outpouring of spectacular ecstatic poetry. Translator Coleman Barks has published several books of Rumi's writings over the past twelve years. He teaches poetry at the University of Georgia and lives in Athens, Georgia. But just for the sake of variety, I thought I'd offer Rumi's "The Name" translated by Robert Bly for his anthology NEWS OF THE UNIVERSE: POEMS OF TWOFOLD CONSCIOUSNESS (1980:268): You should try to hear the name the Holy One has for things. There is something in the phrase: "The Holy One has taught him names." We name every thing according to the number of legs it has; the other one names it according to what it has inside. Moses waved his stick; he thought it was a "rod," but inside its name was "dragonish snake." We thought the name of Blake was "agitator against priests," but in eternity his name is "the one who believes." No one knows our name until our last breath goes out.

Whoever is loved is beautiful and the converse not necessarily true Lovableness is the root principle from which beauty grew. 'There are girls more beautiful than Layla', they told Majnoon 'But I don't love Layla for her form' responded Majnoon 'Layla in my hand is like a cup 'It is the wine within I am in love with 'You have eyes for the beaker, 'Of the wine within you are unaware', said Majnoon 'A golden goblet studded with precious stones Containing vinegar 'Or something else other than wine Would be of no use to me 'An old broken gourd of wine Is superior to such a golden goblet And hundreds like it, said Majnoon For a man to tell the wine from the beaker He must be moved with passion and yearning Take two men, one hungry the other full The man suffering from hunger Perceives a living nourishing soul in a piece of bread The man full of food merely conceives the shape of the bread.

a new documentary being screened at the KPFA Holiday Crafts Fair, S.F. Concourse Exhibition Center: Sunday, Dec. 13 noon: Rumi: Poet of the Heart (56m) - A luminous portrait of the astonishing 13th century Sufi mystic and poet, with Coleman Barks, Robert Bly, Simone Fattal, Hamza el Din, Jai Uttal, and others. Narrated by Debra Winger. Directed by Haydn Reiss - 30 min discussion following, with the filmmaker

more, more, more!

here's another good one: The Question: One dervish to another, What was your vision of God's presence? I haven't seen anything. But for the sake of conversation, I'll tell you a story. God's presence is there in front of me, a fire on the left, a lovely stream on the right. One group walks toward the fire, into the fire, another toward the sweet flowing water. No one knows which are blessed and which not. Whoever walks into the fire appears suddenly in the stream. A head goes under on the water surface, that head pokes out of the fire. Most people guard against going into the fire, and so end up in it. Those who love the water of pleasure and make it their devotion are cheated with this reversal. The trickery goes further. The voice of the fire tells the truth, saying I am not fire. I am fountainhead. Come into me and don't mind the sparks. If you are a friend of God, fire is your water. You should wish to have a hundred thousand sets of mothwings, so you could burn them away, one set a night. The moth sees light and goes into fire. You should see fire and go toward light. Fire is what of God is world-consuming. Water, world-protecting. Somehow each gives the appearance of the other. To these eyes you have now what looks like water burns. What looks like fire is a great relief to be inside. You've seen a magician make a bowl of rice seem a dish full of tiny, live worms. Before an assembly with one breath he made the floor swarm with scorpions that weren't there. How much more amazing God's tricks. Generation after generation lies down, defeated, they think, but they're like a woman underneath a man, circling him. One molecule-mote-second thinking of God's reversal of comfort and pain is better than any attending ritual. That splinter of intelligence is substance. The fire and water themselves: Accidental, done with mirrors. Rumi

Terry, I could not believe my eyes when I read your Rumi Topic, I am such a big fan of Rumi!!! Persian poetry is wonderful and so wise! Don't you just love Mula Nasrudin's tales?

I love them.

Fascinating. All I know about dervishes is that the practice of their religion was banned for a long time and only recently allowed again.

I'd like to second Stacey's response in #6, "more, more, more!"

It is hard for me to see Rumi and not participate. Even though you tie a hundred knots--the string remains one. (Rumi) Love, Love alone can kill what seemed dead, The frozen snake of passion. Love alone By tearful prayers and fiery longing fed, Reveals a knowledge schools have never known. (Rumi)

thank you for that piece, moon dreams! please come back again and again....

In the windows of the ICE Reflections of my town. Somewhere else Something has happened.

alex, you rumi?

Me Alexander.

*grin*

*smirk*

I thought that the 'splain Alexander topic was in screwed...

(Oh my, Wolf, help me! Wer's onto my case these days!) Yo, Wonderboy, since we got that job we've gotten mighty cheeky! Well, suits me fine, to be honest... Rather see us two shadowfencing than you shredding your nerves...

Rumi is incredible. I had never heard of him until I posted Moon Dreams' condolences to Terry...and asked her what a Rumi was. She told me and I came here to find out more. Incredible! I am off on a journey to heal my soul... Thanks, Moon!

Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat. My shoulder is against yours. you will not find me in the stupas, not in Indian shrine rooms, nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals: not in masses, nor kirtans, not in legs winding around your own neck, nor ineating nothing but vegetables. When you really look for me, you will see me instantly -- you will find me in the tiniest house of time. Kabir says: Student, tell me, what is God? He is the breath inside the breath.

That is wonderful for this morning fraught with concern and loss. Thanks, Nan. We need to know that and to be reminded every so often. *hugs* How are you doing?

I'm better than yesterday, thanks, Marcia. The sun came out briefly this morning; now it's raining again. This high desert's nearly as lush as a rainforest after our wet weekend -- I'll need to get some goats in to graze my backyard before I can push a lawnmower through it.

Watch out for the tigers in that tall grass! I have been noticing you have been having some really wet weather! Days will be up and down - I miss my Dad, and he died nearly 15 years ago... *hugs*

Get sheep...they smell less terrible and do a nicer job on your lawn. Goats will eat the grass roots and all! Besides, Wool sweaters are nice *grin*

Really? I married into a cattle ranching family that considered sheep "range maggots" -- but gave goats an OK. Guess they liked cheese more than wool? ;)

Oh... Yes, I've heard about the problems, and OKLAHOMA! (the musical) addressed the subject, too. Cheese will keep your insides alive as you freeze to death for lack of sweaters. (I've had goat jerkey from feral goats here - not great!

Oh, good points. ;) Not to mention the goats would prolly eat my picnic table.

...and eat your flowers and anything you might like to line-dry or air fluff not on the power grid... They are the ultimate browsers - anything is edible and ALL of whatever it is. They have been responsible for more than a little damage to native plants and the disappearance of some entirely due to their voracious and all-inclusive appetites. They are NOT my friend!

Rumi... where are you? ;-) Mula Nasrudin are you following this?

On the Deathbed Go, rest your head on a pillow, leave me alone; leave me ruined, exhausted from the journey of this night, writhing in a wave of passion till the dawn. Either stay and be forgiving, or, if you like, be cruel and leave. Flee from me, away from trouble; take the path of safety, far from this danger. We have crept into this corner of grief, turning the water wheel with a flow of tears. While a tyrant with a heart of flint slays, and no one says, "Prepare to pay the blood money." Faith in the king comes easily in lovely times, but be faithful now and endure, pale lover. No cure exists for this pain but to die, So why should I say, "Cure this pain"? In a dream last night I saw an ancient one in the garden of love, beckoning with his hand, saying, "Come here." On this path, Love is the emerald, the beautiful green that wards off dragonsnough, I am losing myself. If you are a man of learning, read something classic, a history of the human struggle and don't settle for mediocre verse. Kulliyat-i-Shams 2039

* s i g h *

Rumi Festival 2000. September 27- October 1 Chapel Hill, NC. A celebration of Love, Peace and Harmony expressed through Music, Poetry and Dance honoring the birth of the great mystic poet Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi. This year we celebrate women as spiritual teachers. Come and spend 5 wonderful days with incredible sheiks and sheikas from around the world all gathered at Camp New Hope, near Chapel Hill, NC. There will be evening performances by Mercan Dede, Latif Bolat , Amir Koushkani and Thomas Raincrow and the Boat Rockers to name a few. For detailed information please go to our web site www.Rumifest.org or call Demir Williford 919-929-2744, 919-274-0433. (thanks for sending this info to me, marcia, sorry it took so long to post it)

Rumi suddenly has gotten to be a hot topic. He was even the subject of a Jeopardy question the other night!

"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn't make any sense." Rumi's "field"

The Way of Love The way of love is not a subtle argument. The door there is devastation. Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom. How do they learn it? They fall, and falling, they're given wings. - Rumi