Beyond the Hot & Cold of this World (2/11/2024)

Beyond the Hot & Cold of this World (2/11/2024)

As Hodja is my witness,

I swear I will not make any vows again.

The glass of the vow is broken

as soon as I drink Love’s wine.

 

I swear to Your peerless beauty,

Your wine which defeats and ruins lions.

I won’t even get close to repentance.

 

I swear to Your sweet lips,

to Your heart which knows the secrets,

I am neither fond of this world

nor obliged to colors, to red and yellow.

 

I swear to Your sun-like face

and to the true value of Your words

that I am a thousand years

beyond the hot and cold of this world.

 

I swear to Your mind

which resembles a dark chestnut horse,

Your insignia which offers Soul,

that no one knows what kind of man I am

except You.

 

I swear to the blessedness of Your morning

and the uproar which comes after morning wine

that I will roll up the sky before I go.

 

O immortal Sultan, tell the cupbearer

that if someone comes to the assembly with a sour face,

he should serve him the sedimented wine of my sorrow.

 

That way, duality will disappear.

So will the difference between old and new.

Because at the sacred place of drinking,

I am separated from the crowd.

I am all by myself.

 

The cupbearer should offer so much wine

that that person becomes drunk, becomes a lover.

That way, he won’t be bothered

by either the echo of my voice or my cool reception.

 

When he becomes like that,

neither self nor envy will remain within him.

He will come to my playground pure and clean.

 

He will fly outside of time.

He will free himself from bait and trap.

He will turn himself into a witness

at this gambling place, without quarrel.

 

He will play with a clean heart like Venus.

He will submit himself to fate like dice,

saying neither, “I won,” nor “I lost.”

 

I will remain silent from now on.

I am neither nightingale nor parrot.

I am sugar.

I am a rose sapling.

Divan-i Kebir, Volume 22, Ghazal 24, verses 216-228, pages 51-53.

Not Out There (2/4/2024)

Not Out There (2/4/2024)

Sometimes you get tired of living with His sorrow

and so you reject life.

Sometimes you tell His story with the ache in your heart.

Why are you turning so dizzily around the world?

The One whom you search for

is not out there, but inside of you.

Rubailer (2016), Rubai 2, page 471.

The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations, Rubai 1077, Volume 3 (apprx.pub.spring2024).

In Every Prayer Niche and Alter (12/24/2023)

In Every Prayer Niche and Alter (12/24/2023)

There is a spark and warmth from Your Love

in everyone’s heart.

Your trace, the tears of Your longing

are in every prayer niche and alter.

I need a long night and beautiful moonlight to tell You

about all my troubles and sufferings caused by Love.

Rubailar (2016), Rubai 3, page 432.

The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations (apprx.pubsummer2024), Rubai 1084, Volume 3.

The Pain in My Heart (8/6/2023)

The Pain in My Heart (8/6/2023)

If the pain in my heart were reflected outside,

every particle’s face would be darkened by sorrow.

If it found the way to my Essence,

that drunkenness, that agitation

would turn every drop into an ocean.

Rubailer (2016), Rubai 2, page 473.

The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations (apprx.pub.fall2023), Rubai 1013, Vol.3

You are Smiling at My Words (7/9/2023)

You are Smiling at My Words (7/9/2023)

If hundreds of long days were joined together

as one very long day,

my soul would not complain about it.

On the contrary, it would be content.

It would stand still and cry from the pain of Love.

You are smiling at my words,

because you are still a cold man of knowledge,

not a crazy man of Love.

Rubailer (2016), Rubai 1, page 469.

The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations (apprx.pub.fall 2023), Rubai 1003, Volume 3.

You are Excused (1/29/2023)

You are Excused (1/29/2023)

O one who wants to experience the world and everything in it,

you are a day laborer.

O one who dreams of heaven, you are far from the Truth.

O one who enjoys both those worlds because of ignorance,

you haven’t tasted the pleasure of His sorrow.

You are excused, and you may leave.

Rubailer (2016), Rubai 2, page 438.

The Rubaiyat of Rumi, The Ergin Translations (apprx.pub. 7/2023), Rubai 933, volume 3.

1/1/2023

In a group meeting with Hasan Shushud back in the 1970’s, Jonathan Boulting related that this was one of the bits of wisdom Shushud shared, with the caveat that his English might need some reconsideration: GRIEF: Our contract with Eternity. Mr. Shushud spoke often about our inborn nostalgia, our longing “to go home,” our separation from our Essence… the source of true grief. Nevit Ergin referred constantly in his translations of Rumi’s poetry to “His sorrow.” When some begin the practice of fasting, they are able to begin to taste that sorrow, and it is one of the greatest gifts. Our self doesn’t want to feel it, which is its impetus for surrounding itself with an infinite number of distractions. As for the contract, it might be more of a promise that we made and need to keep. As Rumi says, “The purpose of Existence is to reach Absence.”

Heart (12/18/2022)

The Heart (12/18/2022)

My life has passed in the great sweet pain in my heart.

My heart isn’t concerned about that sorrow.

It simply recognizes and accepts it.

 

I was sitting, waiting, until I came to understand what my heart wanted.

Then, I started leaping with joy.

 

My heart had been running away from the circle of religion,

because his place is in the curls of Beauties.

 

I had been turning around the one who spins my heart.

He is the only one who can hear the yells

resulting from my heart’s struggles.

 

At night He took sleep away.

I waited until morning so I could see the heart’s face.

 

My body seemed destroyed,

as if it had dried up from bowing its head in prayer.

But then, I saw the height and stature of the heart.

 

That world is a spark of splendor from the heart’s sun.

This world is a drop from the sea of the heart.

 

Close your lips, because the yells and screams of my heart

are ascending to the sky without lips or tongue.

Divan-i Kebir, Volume 9, Ghazal 74, verses 738-745, page 113.