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#337321 - 07/31/10 10:56 AM Rumi-An itroduction to him if you never read Him
michael Joseph Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 03/11/01
Posts: 2719
Loc: Virginia
I love Rumi, and if you have never read anything by him here are a few poems. MJ

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 "Gods 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,
dont 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, the returns.
When someone doesnt believe that,
walk back into my house.

Like this.

When lovers moan,
theyre 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 Josephs scent come to Jacob?


Huuuuu.

How did Jacobs sight return?

Huuuu.

A little wind cleans the eyes.

Like this.

When Shams comes back from Tabriz,
hell 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









Love is the Water of Life



Everything other than love for the most beautiful God

though it be sugar- eating.

What is agony of the spirit?

To advance toward death without seizing

hold of the Water of Life.

Masnawi I 3686-87













A moment of happiness,

you and I sitting on the verandah,

apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.

We feel the flowing water of life here,

you and I, with the garden's beauty

and the birds singing.

The stars will be watching us,

and we will show them

what it is to be a thin crescent moon.

You and I unselfed, will be together,

indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.

The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar

as we laugh together, you and I.

In one form upon this earth,

and in another form in a timeless sweet land.



Kulliyat-e Shams, 2114













Lovers

O lovers, lovers it is time
to set out from the world.
I hear a drum in my soul's ear
coming from the depths of the stars.
Our camel driver is at work;
the caravan is being readied.
He asks that we forgive him
for the disturbance he has caused us,
He asks why we travelers are asleep.

Everywhere the murmur of departure;
the stars, like candles
thrust at us from behind blue veils,
and as if to make the invisible plain,
a wondrous people have come forth.



The Divani Shamsi Tabriz, XXXVI











All through eternity

Beauty unveils His exquisite form

in the solitude of nothingness;

He holds a mirror to His Face

and beholds His own beauty.

he is the knower and the known,

the seer and the seen;

No eye but His own

has ever looked upon this Universe.



His every quality finds an expression:

Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space;

Love, the life-giving garden of this world.

Every branch and leaf and fruit

Reveals an aspect of His perfection-

They cypress give hint of His majesty,

The rose gives tidings of His beauty.



Whenever Beauty looks,

Love is also there;

Whenever beauty shows a rosy cheek

Love lights Her fire from that flame.

When beauty dwells in the dark folds of night

Love comes and finds a heart

entangled in tresses.

Beauty and Love are as body and soul.

Beauty is the mine, Love is the diamond.



They have together

since the beginning of time-

Side by side, step by step.











I swear, since seeing Your face,

the whole world is fraud and fantasy

The garden is bewildered as to what is leaf

or blossom. The distracted birds

can't distinguish the birdseed from the snare.



A house of love with no limits,

a presence more beautiful than venus or the moon,

a beauty whose image fills the mirror of the heart.



The Divani Shamsi Tabriz XV









Let go of your worries

and be completely clear-hearted,

like the face of a mirror

that contains no images.

If you want a clear mirror,

behold yourself

and see the shameless truth,

which the mirror reflects.

If metal can be polished

to a mirror-like finish,

what polishing might the mirror

of the heart require?

Between the mirror and the heart

is this single difference:

the heart conceals secrets,

while the mirror does not.



The Divani Shamsi Tabriz, XIII











This is love: to fly toward a secret sky,

to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.

First, to let go of live.

In the end, to take a step without feet;

to regard this world as invisible,

and to disregard what appears to be the self.



Heart, I said, what a gift it has been

to enter this circle of lovers,

to see beyond seeing itself,

to reach and feel within the breast.



The Divani Shamsi Tabriz, XIII









Love is reckless; not reason.

Reason seeks a profit.

Love comes on strong,

consuming herself, unabashed.



Yet, in the midst of suffering,

Love proceeds like a millstone,

hard surfaced and straightforward.



Having died of self-interest,

she risks everything and asks for nothing.

Love gambles away every gift God bestows.



Without cause God gave us Being;

without cause, give it back again.



Mathnawi VI, 1967-1974











I am a sculptor, a molder of form.

In every moment I shape an idol.

But then, in front of you, I melt them down

I can rouse a hundred forms

and fill them with spirit,

but when I look into your face,

I want to throw them in the fire.

My souls spills into yours and is blended.

Because my soul has absorbed your fragrance,

I cherish it.

Every drop of blood I spill

informs the earth,

I merge with my Beloved

when I participate in love.

In this house of mud and water,

my heart has fallen to ruins.

Enter this house, my Love, or let me leave.



The Divani Shamsi Tabriz, XXXIV











Passion makes the old medicine new:

Passion lops off the bough of weariness.

Passion is the elixir that renews:

how can there be weariness

when passion is present?

Oh, don't sigh heavily from fatigue:

seek passion, seek passion, seek passion!



Mathnawi VI, 4302-4304











The beauty of the heart

is the lasting beauty:

its lips give to drink

of the water of life.
Truly it is the water,

that which pours,

and the one who drinks.

All three become one when

your talisman is shattered.

That oneness you can't know

by reasoning.

Mathnawi II, 716-718











"I am only the house of your beloved,

not the beloved herself:

true love is for the treasure,

not for the coffer that contains it."

The real beloved is that one who is unique,

who is your beginning and your end.

When you find that one,

you'll no longer expect anything else:

that is both the manifest and the mystery.

That one is the lord of states of feeling,

dependent on none;

month and year are slaves to that moon.

When he bids the "state,"

it does His bidding;

when that one wills, bodies become spirit.

Mathnawi III, 1417-1424













The springtime of Lovers has come,

that this dust bowl may become a garden;

the proclamation of heaven has come,

that the bird of the soul may rise in flight.

The sea becomes full of pearls,

the salt marsh becomes sweet as kauthar,

the stone becomes a ruby from the mine,

the body becomes wholly soul.











The intellectual is always showing off,

the lover is always getting lost.

The intellectual runs away.

afraid of drowning;

the whole business of love

is to drown in the sea.

Intellectuals plan their repose;

lovers are ashamed to rest.

The lover is always alone.

even surrounded by people;

like water and oil, he remains apart.

The man who goes to the trouble

of giving advice to a lover

get nothing. He's mocked by passion.

Love is like musk. It attracts attention.

Love is a tree, and the lovers are its shade.

Kulliyat-e Shams, 21











Love has nothing to do with

the five senses and the six directions:

its goal is only to experience

the attraction exerted by the Beloved.

Afterwards, perhaps, permission

will come from God:

the secrets that ought to be told with be told

with an eloquence nearer to the understanding

that these subtle confusing allusions.

The secret is partner with none

but the knower of the secret:

in the skeptic's ear

the secret is no secret at all.

Mathnawi III, 1417-1424
















When the rose is gone and the garden faded
you will no longer hear the nightingale's song.
The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil.
The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.
If love withholds its strengthening care,
the lover is left like a bird without care,
the lover is left like a bird without wings.
How will I be awake and aware
if the light of the Beloved is absent?
Love wills that this Word be brought forth.



Mathnawi I, 23-31












Because I cannot sleep
I make music at night.
I am troubled by the one
whose face e has the color of spring flowers.
I have neither sleep nor patience,
neither a god reputation nor disgrace.
A thousand robes of wisdom are gone.
All my good manners have moved a thousand miles away.
The heart and the mind are left angry with each other.
The starts and the moon are envious of each other.
Because of this alienation the physical universe
is getting tighter and tighter.
The moon says, "How long will I remain
suspended without a sun?"
Without Love's jewel inside of me,
let the bazaar of my existence by destroyed stone by stone.
O Love, You who have been called by a thousand names,
You who know how to pour the wine
into the chalice of the body,
You who give culture to a thousand cultures,
You who are faceless but have a thousand faces,
O Love, You who shape the faces
of Turks, Europeans, and Zanzibaris,
give me a glass from Your bottle,
or a handful of bheng from Your Branch.
Remove the cork once more.
The we'll see a thousand chiefs prostrate themselves,
and a circle of ecstatic troubadours will play.
Then the addict will be breed of craving.
and will be resurrected,
and stand in awe till Judgement Day.









Ode 314



Those who don't feel this Love
pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn
like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change,

let them sleep.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way,

sleep on.

I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds
and thrown it away.

If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words
around you,

and sleep.

"Like This" Coleman Barks, Maypop, 1990











A lifetime without Love is of no account

Love is the Water of Life

Drink it down with heart and soul!






Divan-i-Shams 11909











Last night you lfet me and slept

your own deep sleep. Tonight you turn

and turn. I say,

"You and I will be together

till the universe dissolves."

You mumble back things you thought of

when you were drunk.





Like This, Rumi, Coleman Barks, Maypop Books












I have been tricked by flying too close
to what I thought I loved.


Now the candleflame is out, the wine spilled,
and the lovers have withdrawn
somewhere beyond my squinting.

The amount I thought I'd won, I've lost.
My prayers becomes bitter and all about blindness.

How wonderful it was to be for a while
with those who surrender.

Others only turn their faces on way,
then another, like pigeon in flight.

I have known pigeons who fly in a nowhere,
and birds that eat grainlessness,

and tailor who sew beautiful clothes
by tearing them to pieces.



(Mathnawi, V. 346-353) Like This,
Rumi, Coleman Barks, Maypop Books













Who is at my door?


He said, "Who is at my door?"
I said, "Your humble servant."
He said, "What business do you have?"
I said, "To greet you, 0 Lord."


He said, "How long will you journey on?"
I said, "Until you stop me."
He said, "How long will you boil in the fire?"
I said, "Until I am pure.


"This is my oath of love.
For the sake of love
I gave up wealth and position."


He said, "You have pleaded your case
but you have no witness."
I said, "My tears are my witness;
the pallor of my face is my proof.'
He said, "Your witness has no credibility;
your eyes are too wet to see."
I said, "By the splendor of your justice
my eyes are clear and faultless."


He said, "What do you seek?"
I said, "To have you as my constant friend."
He said, "What do you want from me?"
I said, "Your abundant grace."


He said, "Who was your companion on the 'ourney?
I said, "The thought of you, 0 King."
He said, "What called you here?"
I said, "The fragrance of your wine."


He said, "What brings you the most fulfillment?"
I said, "The company of the Emperor."
He said, "What do you find there?"
I said, "A hundred miracles."
He said, "Why is the palace deserted?"
I said, "They all fear the thief."
He said, "Who is the thief?"
I said, "The one who keeps me from -you.


He said, "Where is there safety?"
I said, "In service and renunciation."
He said, "What is there to renounce?"
I said, "The hope of salvation."


He said, "Where is there calamity?"
I said, "In the presence of your love."
He said, "How do you benefit from this life?"
I said, "By keeping true to myself


Now it is time for silence.
If I told you about His true essence
You would fly from your self and be gone,
and neither door nor roof could hold you back!


Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved, Jonathan Star
Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, New York 1997













In The Arc Of Your Mallet


Don't go anywhere without me.
Let nothing happen in the sky apart from me,
or on the ground, in this world or that world,
without my being in its happening.
Vision, see nothing I don't see.
Language, say nothing.
The way the night knows itself with the moon,
be that with me. Be the rose
nearest to the thorn that I am.

I want to feel myself in you when you taste food,
in the arc of your mallet when you work,
when you visit friends, when you go
up on the roof by yourself at night.

There's nothing worse than to walk out along the street
without you. I don't know where I'm going.
You're the road, and the knower of roads,
more than maps, more than love.

The Essential Rumi Coleman Barks













Further reading:


Rumi: The Path of Love, by Manuela Dunn Mascetti (Editor) Camille & Kabir Helminski, Hardcover - 96 pages ( 4 November, 1999) Element Books Ltd

Hush, Don't Say Anything to God : Passionate Poems of Rumi Jalal Al-Din Rumi, Shahram Shiva, ( 1 October, 1999) Jain Publishing Company

Look! This Is Love Poems of Rumi (Shambhala Centaur Editions) Jalal Al-Din Rumi, et al /Published 1996

Rumi's Divan of Shems of Tabriz Selected Odes (Element Classics of World Spirituality) Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi, et al / Published 1997

The Way of Passion: A Celebration of Rumi, by Andrew Harvey

The Sufi Path of Love The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi William C. Chittick (Translator) Published 1983

Where Two Oceans Meet A Selection of Odes from the Divan of Shems of Tabriz Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi, James G. Cowan (Translator)






_________________________
Standing together is so much better than hiding in the dark.
***I am a three time WoR Retreat Alumni***
The Round Table, Men's CSA Group, Monday 7:30pm CST, MaleSurvivor Chat

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#337322 - 07/31/10 11:03 AM Re: Rumi-An itroduction to him if you never read Him [Re: michael Joseph]
michael Joseph Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 03/11/01
Posts: 2719
Loc: Virginia
Rumi

INTRODUCTION

Reynold Nicholson

I JALALU'L-DIN RUMI, the greatest mystical poet of Persia, was born at Balkh in the northern Persian province of Khorasan in A.D. 1207. The city at that time flourished under the rule of Muhammad, the great Shah of Khwarizm, whose empire, as E. G. Browne described it, "extended from the Ural Mountains to the Persian Gulf, and from the Indus almost to the Euphrates." The family to which our poet belonged had been settled in Balkh for several generations; it was highly respected and, according to his biographers, had produced a notable succession of jurists and divines. So far as can be ascertained, its history begins with his great-grandfather, who claimed descent from Arab stock, and from no less a person than Abu Bakr, the first Caliph of Islam.

Although the Eastern biographies of Rumi, like other lives of Persian saints, are to a large extent legendary, while his own works characteristically contribute virtually nothing in the shape of historical facts, we are fortunate in possessing some old and relatively trustworthy sources of information.1 The following sketch, based on the chief materials available, gives briefly the main circumstances of Rumi's life and describes some of the events which were the source of his mystical enthusiasm and poetic inspiration.

In 1219, when Jalalu'I-Din was twelve years old, his father, Baha'u'I-Din Walad, suddenly departed from Balkh with his family and journeyed westward. The motives alleged for this migration, that it was the result either of divine inspiration or human intrigue, are surely fictitious. There can be no doubt that Baha'u'I-Dln, like many thousands of others, fled before the terrible Mongol hordes, which were sweeping through Khorasan and already approaching his native city. News of its devastation reached the exiles on their way to Baghdad or on the next stage of their long journey from Baghdad to Mecca, when they travelled to Damascus and finally settled in Rum (Turkey).

Their first home was at Zarandah, about forty miles southeast of Konia, where Jalalu'I-Din married; in 1226 his eldest son Sultan Walad was born. Presently Baha'u'l-Din transferred himself and his family to Konia, at that time the capital of the Western Seljuk empire, and he died there in 123�. He is said to have been an eminent theologian, a great teacher and preacher, venerated by his pupils and highly esteemed by the reigning monarch, to whom he acted as a spiritual guide. About this time Burhanu'I-Din Muhaqqiq of Tirmidh, a former pupil of Baha'u'l-Din at Balkh, arrived in Konia. Under his influence, it is said, Jalalu'l-Din, now in his twenty-fifth year, became imbued with enthusiasm for the discipline and doctrine of the Sufis-men and women who sought to unite themselves with God. During the next decade he devoted himself to imitation of his Pir and passed through all the stages of the mystical life until, on the death of Burhanu'I-Din in 1240, he in turn assumed the rank of Shaykh and thus took the first, though probably unpremeditated, step towards forming a fraternity of the disciples whom his ardent personality attracted in ever increasing numbers.

The remainder of his life, as described by his son, falls into three periods, each of which is marked by a mystical intimacy of the closest kind with a "Perfect Man," i.e. one of the saints in whom Divine attributes are mirrored, so that the lover, seeing himself by the light of God, realizes that he and his Beloved are not two, but One. These experiences lie at the very centre of Rumi's theosophy and directly or indirectly inspire all his poetry. In handling the verse narrative of a mystic's son who was himself a mystic it is prudent to make ample allowance for the element of allegory; yet it would be rash to reject the whole story as pious fiction seeing that at the date when it was written many persons were living who could say whether it was, or was not, a recognizable picture of things which they themselves had witnessed.

In 1244 a wandering dervish, known to posterity by the name of Shamsu'l-Dln of Tabriz, arrived at Konia.

Jalalu'l-Dln found in the stranger that perfect image of the Divine Beloved which he had long been seeking. He took him away to his house, and for a year or two they remained inseparable. Sultan Walad likens his father's all-absorbing communion with this "hidden saint" to the celebrated journey of Moses in company with Khadir ( Koran, xviii, 64-80), the Sage whom Sufis regard as the supreme hierophant and guide of travellers on the Way to God.

Meanwhile the Maulawi (Mevlevi)2 disciples of Rumi, entirely cut off from their Master's teaching and conversation and bitterly resenting his continued devotion to Shamsu'l-Dln alone, assailed the intruder with abuse and threats of violence. At last Shamsu'l-Din fled to Damascus, but was brought back in triumph by Sultan Walad, whom Jalalu'I-Dln, deeply agitated by the loss of his bosom friend, had sent in search of him. Thereupon the disciples "repented" and were forgiven. Soon, however, a renewed outburst of jealousy on their part caused Shamsu'l-Din to take refuge in Damascus for the second time, and again Sultan Walad was called upon to restore the situation. Finally, perhaps in 1247, the man of mystery vanished without leaving a trace behind.

Sultan Walad vividly describes the passionate and uncontrollable emotion which overwhelmed his father at this time.

"Never for a moment did he cease from listening to music (sama'), and dancing;
Never did he rest by day or night.
He had been a mufti: he became a poet
He had been an ascetic: he became intoxicated by Love.
'Twas not the wine of the grape: the illumined soul
drinks only the wine of Light."

Here Sultan Walad alludes to the Diwan-i Shams-i Tabriz ("Lyrics of Shams of Tabriz"), an immense collection of mystical odes composed by Jalalu'l-Din in the name of Shamsu'l-Din and dedicated to the memory of his alter ego. The first verse does not confirm, but may have suggested, the statement of Some authorities that grief for the loss of Shams-i Tabriz caused Jalalu'I-Din to institute the characteristic Mevlevi religious dance with its plaintive reed-flute accompaniment.

The next episode (circa 1252-1261) in Jalalu'l-Din's spiritual life is a fainter repetition of the last. For many years after the disappearance of Shamsu'l-Din he devoted himself to Salahu'l-Din Faridun Zarkub, who as his deputy (khalifah) was charged with the duty of instructing the Mevlevi acolytes. They showed their resentment in no uncertain manner, and the ringleaders only gave in when they had been virtually excommunicated.

On the death of Salahu'l-Din (circa 1261) the poet's enthusiasm found a new and abundant source of inspiration in another disciple, Husamu'l-Din Hasan ibn Muhammad ibn Hasan ibn Akhi Turk, whose name he has mystically associated with his greatest work, the celebrated Mathnawi (epic poem). He calls the Mathnawi "the book of Husam" and likens himself to a flute on the lips of Husamu'l-Din, pouring forth "the wailful music that he made." During the last ten years of the poet's life this last beloved follower acted as his khalifah, and upon his death in 1273 succeeded him as Head of the Mevlevi Order, a dignity he held until 1284, when Sultan Walad took his place.

To this first-hand account of Rumi's life given in verse by his son the later prose biographers add little that can be considered either important or trustworthy. From Aflaki and others we hear that he was guide, philosopher and friend, not only to the Seljuk minister Mu'inu'I-Din, the Parwanah (Governor) of Rum, but to his royal master, Sultan 'Ala'u'I-Din himself; in any case it would seem that he and the group of Sufis around him enjoyed influential support and were in a position to defy attacks on their doctrine. The poet takes a high line with his orthodox critics. He calls them "boobies" and "curs baying at the moon."

A Platonic type of mystical love had been cultivated by Sufis long before Rumi declared that he and Shams-I Tabrjz were "two bodies with one soul." In this union of loving souls all distinctions vanish: nothing remains but the essential Unity of Love, in which "lover" and "beloved" have merged their separate identities. In calling his lyrics the Diwan (Poems) of Shams-i Tabriz, Rumi of course uses the name Shams as though Shams and himself had become identical and were the same person. Though to us Shams-I figure may appear unsubstantial, we need not accept the view put forward by some modern scholars that he is merely a personification of Jalalu'I-Din's poetic and mystical genius-an Eastern equivalent for "the Muse." Those who adopt that theory must logically extend it to include Salahu'I-Din and Husamu'I-Din and can hardly avoid the implication that Sultan Walad created three imaginary characters to play the leading parts in his father's life and in the foundation of the Mevlevi Order. Western students of the Diwan and the Mathnawi will recall a celebrated parallel that points the other way. Did not Dante transfigure the donna gentil who was the object romantic passion into Celestial Wisdom and glorify under the name of Beatrice?

II

Rumi's literary output, as stupendous in magnitude is sublime in content, consists of the very large collection of mystical odes, perhaps as many as 2,500, which make up the Diwan-i Shams-i Tabriz; the Mathnawi in six books of about 25,000 rhyming couplets; and the Ruba'iyat or quatrains, of which maybe about 1,600 are authentic.3 The forms in which he clothes his religious philosophy had been fashioned before him by two great Sufi poets, of Ghaznah and Faridu'I-Din 'Attar of Nishapur. The makes no secret of his debt to them both, his flight a wider range, his materials are richer and more and his method of handling the subject is so original may justly be described as "a new style." It is a style of great subtlety and complexity, hard to analyse; general features are simple and cannot be doubt. In the Mathnawi, where it is fully developed, it gives the an exhilarating sense of largeness and freedom disregard for logical cohesion, defiance of convention, use of the language of common life, and abundance of images drawn from homely things and incidents familiar to every one. The poem resembles a trackless ocean: are no boundaries; no lines of demarcation between literal "husk" and the "kernel" of doctrine in which, i.e. sense conveyed and copiously expounded. The expounded fusion of text and interpretation shows how completely in aesthetics as in every other domain, the philosophy Rumi is inspired by the monistic idea. "The Mathnawi,", he says, "is the shop for Unity (wahdat); anything that you see there except the One (God) is an idol." Ranging over the battlefield of existence, he finds all its conflicts and discords playing the parts assigned to them in the universal harmony which only mystics can realize.

Sufi pantheism or monism involves the following propositions:

(a) There is One Real Being, the Ultimate Ground of all existence. This Reality may be viewed either as God (the Divine Essence) or as the World (phenomena by which the hidden Essence is made manifest).

(b) There is no creation in Time. Divine Self-manifestation is a perpetual process. While the forms of the universe change and pass and are simultaneously renewed without a moment's intermission, in its essence it is co-eternal with God. There never was a time when it did not exist as a whole in His Knowledge.

(c) God is both Immanent, in the sense that He appears under the aspect of limitation in all phenomenal forms, and Transcendent, in the sense that He is the Absolute Reality above and beyond every appearance.

(d) The Divine Essence is unknowable. God makes His Nature known to us by Names and Attributes which He has revealed in the Koran. Though essentially identical, from our point of view the Divine Attributes are diverse and opposed to each other, and this differentiation constitutes the phenomenal world, without which we could not distinguish good from evil and come to know the Absolute Good. In the sphere of Reality there is no such thing as evil.

(e) According to the Holy Tradition, "I created the creatures in order than I might be known," the entire content of God's Knowledge is objectified in the universe and pre-eminently in Man. The Divine Mind, which rules and animates the cosmos as an Indwelling Rational Principle (Logos), displays itself completely in the Perfect Man. The supreme type of the Perfect Man is the preexistent Reality or Spirit of Muhammad, whose "Light" irradiates the long series of prophets beginning with Adam and, after them, the hierarchy of Muslim saints, who are Muhammad's spiritual heirs. Whether prophet or saint, the Perfect Man has realized his Oneness with God: he is the authentic image and manifestation of God and therefore the final cause of creation, since only through him does Cod become fully conscious of Himself.

These are some of the themes underlying Rumi's poetry. He is not their original author; they may be regarded as having been gradually evolved by the long succession of Sufi thinkers from the ninth century onwards, then gathered together and finally formulated by the famous Andalusian mystic, Ibnu'I-'Arabi (1165-1240). Ibnu'I-'Arabi has every right to be called the father of Islamic pantheism. He devoted colossal powers of intellect and imagination to constructing a system which, though it lacks order and connection, covers the whole ground in detail and perhaps, all things considered, is the most imposing monument of mystical speculation the world has ever seen. While it is evident that Rumi borrowed some part of his terminology and ideas from his elder contemporary, who himself travelled in Rum and lies buried in Damascus, the amount of the debt has inevitably been exaggerated by later commentators whose minds are filled with forms of thought alien to the Mathnawi but familiar to readers of Ibnu'I-' Arabi's

Fususu'l-hikam ("Bezels of Wisdom") and al-Futuhatul-Makkiyya ("Meccan Revelations"). The Andalusian always writes with a fixed philosophical purpose, which may be defined as the logical development of a single all-embracing concept, and much of his thought expresses itself in a dialectic bristling with technicalities. Rumi has no such aim. As E. H. Whinfield said, his mysticism is not 'doctrinal" in the Catholic sense but "experimental." He appeals to the heart more than to the head, scorns the logic of the schools, and nowhere does he embody in philosophical language even the elements of a system. The words used by Dante in reference to the Divine Commedia would serve excellently as a de>
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#340982 - 09/27/10 11:06 PM Re: Rumi-An itroduction to him if you never read Him [Re: michael Joseph]
michael Joseph Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 03/11/01
Posts: 2719
Loc: Virginia
rumi means a lot to me just pushing this back near the front

hope some of you enjoy him his thoughts are wonderful

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#341023 - 09/28/10 02:51 PM Re: Rumi-An itroduction to him if you never read Him [Re: michael Joseph]
kidneythis Offline


Registered: 11/08/09
Posts: 1558
Sounds disconnected and drug addled to me.

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#341041 - 09/28/10 11:34 PM Re: Rumi-An itroduction to him if you never read Him [Re: kidneythis]
michael Joseph Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 03/11/01
Posts: 2719
Loc: Virginia
lol Kidney I will try to get better examples but the ones I wanted I could not find

this was not one poem

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***I am a three time WoR Retreat Alumni***
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