
Yesterday, that Beloved put a golden crown on my head.
Go on. Hit me. It doesn’t matter how much you do.
The drunkenness of that wine won’t leave me. Continue reading “What is Inside of You (11/2/2025)”

Yesterday, that Beloved put a golden crown on my head.
Go on. Hit me. It doesn’t matter how much you do.
The drunkenness of that wine won’t leave me. Continue reading “What is Inside of You (11/2/2025)”

Since you haven’t taken care of your heart,
it hasn’t held your hand,
and you haven’t gotten a fair share of Love.
You can’t love just anyone!
If your heart were to hold your hand,
you wouldn’t fall in the mud of lowly desires.
Not even once did my rose get its scent or color
from anyone but my heart.
I have nothing in my hand, yet because of this poverty, I own everything.
The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations, Volume 3, rubai 1351, page 222.

O Love, You have cracked me into pieces
as if I am a false idol.
I’ll take you to the Judge.
Nobody asked me to be a witness.
I am a witness of my own accord. Continue reading “These are from You (10/5/2025)”

While Your Love was galloping high among the stars,
my poor heart recognized You through secret signs.
When I free myself from the bonds of existence,
what wonderful Love games my heart will play with You
in the Land of Absence!
The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations, Volume 3, rubai 1318, page 205.

O lovers, O lovers, I will turn dirt into jewels.
O players, O players, I will fill your tambourines with gold.
O thirsty ones, O thirsty ones, I will become the Cupbearer today.
I will turn this barren land into Heaven and make it flow with the River of Heaven. Continue reading “O Lovers, O Lovers (7/6/2025)”

Why does this dark sorrow blindly entwine my heart?
Is it blind, or does it see blindness in me?
I am in the heights of the sky.
This clay and water body of mine is merely my reflection.
Who could look at a star in the water
and think they could just reach out and take it?
The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations, Volume 3, rubai 1290, page 191.

Rain poured down on a man’s head.
The rain kept coming, so he took shelter in his home.
A duck seeing this fluttered its wings.
“Give all the rain to me,” the duck said, “to the one
who was created out of water!”
And, water became his shelter, his home.
The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations, Volume 3, rubai 1256, page 174.

O our Friend, our Beloved, our Confidant,
the Light of our bizarre!
Look! Last year has fallen in love with our present time.
We are all wasteful.
To us, You are hundreds of treasures,
hundreds of our spent monies. Continue reading “Our Mountain Echoes Your Voice to You (12/15/2024)”