We are the mirror, and we are the face of the mirror.
We are the drunk of the glass of immortality.
We are the pain. We are the panacea.
We are the water of life. We are the water carrier.
Rubailer (2015), Rubai 1, page 413.
The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations, (apprx. 3/23) Rubai 873, Volume 2.
It is vain for you to try to separate my Beloved from me.
I have become Him.
What can you do to Him? Tell me. Continue reading “Reach Peace (1/9/2022)”
On the way to Love, each lover must either annihilate himself
or give up his life in death.
Some say,
“Love’s goal is to drink water from the Fountain of Life.”
These are just empty words, O lover, just empty words.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #3, page 226.
A Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translation (pub. 11/2021)
I am happy,
but that happiness is not from the reed-flute.
I am warm, but that warmth is not from any water or fire.
Love has emptied me so much of my self
that when I am measured on a scale,
I am two batmans* lighter than Nothing.
*An historical unit of weight.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #1, page 298.
I don’t know how I became annihilated from that wine.
I don’t know where I am because of the beauty of placelessness.
Once I was at the bottom of the sea.
but then I rose like the sun. Continue reading “The Light Calling Out (1/3/2021)”
Come, O wise, intelligent man.
Smile at the fool.
Come, O one who knows his way.
Smile at the one who is lost. Continue reading “Smile (10/4/2020)”
O cupbearer, you are the one who satisfies my need.
Serve me wine. Make me happy.
I have become so drunk
that I can’t separate signs from words. Continue reading “I Gave Up Yesterday (9/20/2020)”
Come, O One who gives new life to the world.
Stop the workings of this smart mind. Continue reading “Where is His Roof? (8/9/2020)”
O beauty, you are a beautiful charmer.
Give up acting with such poor appearance, such poor behavior.
If you are content, luck will be a slave and servant for us. Continue reading “Yet, We Still Keep Struggling (5/17/2020)”
Once I got a tiny whiff of Your scent,
I was forced to go Your way.
My color and scent were stolen by Yours.
I was annihilated in the end, so nothing was left of me,
not even a scent. No scent. Nothing.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #3, page 175.