Rumi
Rumi
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī, Mawlānā/Mevlânâ, Mevlevî/Mawlawī, and more popularly simply as Rumi, was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian, and Sufi mystic. Rumi's influence transcends national borders and ethnic divisions: Iranians, Tajiks, Turks, Greeks, Pashtuns, other Central Asian Muslims, and the Muslims of South Asia have greatly appreciated his spiritual legacy for the past seven centuries. His poems have been widely translated into many of the world's languages and transposed into...
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth30 September 1207
You run back and forth listening for unusual events, peering into the faces of travelers. "Why are you looking at me like a madman?" I have lost a friend. Please forgive me.
No one can tell if I’m laughing or weeping. I wonder myself.
Be motivated like the falcon, hunt gloriously. Be magnificent as the leopard, fight to win. Spend less time with nightingales and peacocks. One is all talk, the other only color.
Peaceful is the one who's not concerned with having more or less. Unbound by name and fame, he is free from sorrow from the world and mostly from himself.
If you are seeking, seek us with joy For we live in the kingdom of joy. Do not give your heart to anything else But to the love of those who are clear joy, Do not stray into the neighborhood of despair. For there are hopes: they are real, they exist – Do not go in the direction of darkness – I tell you: suns exist.
A pen went scribbling along. When it tried to write love, it broke.
The feelings trembled and flapped in his chest like a bird newly put in a cage.
Love is an open secret, the most obvious thing in the world and the most hidden, with no why to how it keeps its mystery.
Lovers move like lightning and wind. No contest. Theologians mumble, rumble-dumble, necessity and free will, while lover and beloved pull themselves into each other.
There’s a morning when presence comes over your soul. You sing like a rooster in your earth-colored shape. Your heart hears and, no longer frantic, begins to dance.
When soul rises Into lips You feel the kiss You have wanted
What can I do my friends, if I do not know? I am neither Christian nor Jew, nor Muslim nor Hindu. What can I do? What can I do? Not of the East, nor of the West, Nor of the land, nor of the sea, Not of nature's essence, nor of circling heavens. What could I be?
Do you pay regular visits to yourself? Don't argue or answer rationally. Let us die, and dying, reply.
There are no edges to my loving now.