The poetry of Rumi

Paintings by: Sufi Art Gallery, Kuta, Bali (email: sufi_art01@yahoo.com)

I bought these beautiful paintings from an Art Gallery in Kuta, Bali during my vacation there in February 2007. 

I stumbled upon poetry by Rumi while going through the amazing library at Mr. Big's home. For those who haven't read my earlier post Mr. Big was someone I was in a relationship with (my longest relationship no pun intended). I read a couplet written by Rumi (translated to English from Persian) and the simplicity and deep connotations of the couplet made me a ardent fan of his poetry. The couplet was

"When I die,

lay my corpse to rest,

but do not be at all surprised

if His kiss on my tattered lips

brings me back to life"

The story of Rumi's life cannot be condensed but I'll try to do it for you readers. I may have misunderstood parts of his life but I have formed my opinion about him based on my readings which are not complete. Rumi was the son of a famous religious teacher in Konya, Turkey and inherited his father's Khanaqah (kind of monastery where the disciples called Murid and the teacher called Pir would get together and discuss spirituality).  Rumi was famous and highly respected. One day a  wanderer called Shams of Tabriz came to Konya and met Rumi. Both Rumi and Shams were looking for the other half or the medium under whose influence they would be united with their Beloved i.e. God. In each other they found the medium and became inseparable spending all their time together. Rumi's disciples and his family (wife and son) became jealous Shams and Rumi relationship. One day they forced Shams to leave the city. 

Rumi couldn't bear the separation from Shams and send his son in search of him. Shams was brought back to Rumi but the bliss didn't last for long. One day Shams disappeared (rumoured to have been murdered and disposed off). Rumi kept looking for him until one day it dawned upon him that the one he was looking for was already a part of him.  The couplet he wrote on that occasion was

"Why should I seek? I am the same as

He. His essence speaks through me.

I have been looking for myself!"

That's when he started to write his most famous work Diwan-e Shams-e Tabrizi. It is Rumi's disciples who whirl while in a trance trying to attain unity with God through the medium of music and dance (whirling in this case). Sufis believe music (singing praises of the Beloved i.e. God) is the most potent medium of attaining the union with the beloved called Sama which is like a trance like state. Thus his followers are called Whirling Dervishes. Another form of Sufi music popularised in the Indian subcontinent by the disciples of Nizamuddin Auliya and Amir Khusro is Qawwali. The greatest exponent of qawwali was Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and now is Abida Praveen you could listen to their music here and here or in my playlist in the sidebar of this blog.

There are many more examples of such close relationships between the Sufi priest and their inspirations (in form of their disciples or just mediums). The story of Nizamuddin Auliya and Amir Khusro from the Indian subcontinent is one such relationship.

I may not the most accurate information about Rumi and if you are interested you could start by looking at Wikipedia. A good collection of his poetry is at Khamush. Then there are book by Coleman Barks and Andrew Harvey which have translations of Rumi's poetry.

When I read Rumi's poetry it resonated with the feeling of emptiness and the search for the beloved within me. Though it took me some time to realize that while Rumi's search was for the Beloved who would unite him with God; mine wasn't all that pure and pious. But I do believe that once we meet the right person he or she would lead to our and their spiritual growth and maturity. I hope someday I meet my medium, inspiration, beloved. That is the top most priority in my 'Life list'(things I intend to achieve before I die).  Yarravilepaul asked me to try to explain why the poetry means so much to me. I could try but I wouldn't be able to. It's like listening to a song 100 times and feeling nothing and then one day in a particular situation you listen to a song and it resonates so much with your situation or state of mind that it leaves you shaken. Rumi's poetry about Shams always resonates with my current state of mind. I don't know if I am making any sense anymore so I would leave it here and post another beautiful poem by Rumi. It's is addressed from me to the medium, inspiration the beloved or in plain terms Mr. Right. Hope it resonates with you.

If anyone asks you

how the perfect satisfaction

of all our sexual wanting

will look, lift your face

and say,

Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness

of the nightsky, climb up on the roof

and dance and say,

Like this.

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,

or what "God's fragrance" means,

lean your head toward him or her.

Keep your face there close.

Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image

about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,

slowly loosen knot by knot the strings

of your robe.

Like this.

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,

don't try to explain the miracle.

Kiss me on the lips.

Like this. Like this.

When someone asks what it means

to "die for love," point

here.

If someone asks how tall I am, frown

and measure with your fingers the space

between the creases on your forehead.

This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, then returns.

When someone doesn't believe that,

walk back into my house.

Like this.

When lovers moan,

they're telling our story.

Like this.

I am a sky where spirits live.

Stare into this deepening blue,

while the breeze says a secret.

Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do,

light the candle in his hand.

Like this.

How did Joseph's scent come to Jacob?

Huuuuu.

How did Jacob's sight return?

Huuuu.

A little wind cleans the eyes.

Like this.

When Shams comes back from Tabriz,

he'll put just his head around the edge

of the door to surprise us

Like this.

From ˜The Essential Rumi€™, Translations 

by Coleman Barks with John Moyne