The Living Room

On swifter wings ( photo by Catrin )

every moment

a voice
out of this world
calls on your soul
to wake up and rise

this soul of ours
is like a flame
with more smoke than light
blackening our vision
letting no light through

lessen the smoke and
more light brightens your house
the house you dwell in now
and the abode
you’ll eventually move to

now my precious soul
how long are you going to
waste yourself
in this wandering journey
can’t you hear the voice
can’t you use your swifter wings
and answer the call

From: Rumi ” Fountain of Fire”
translated by Nader Khalili

Foliage

It is the rainy season, I dig a canal;
In the hope of union I clap my hands.
The clouds are pregnant with drops from the sea of love;
I am pregnant with those clouds.
Don’t say you are not a musician, clap your hands!
Come! I will teach you to become one.

So bright! will you tell me whose house is that?
I love bright houses so!
Alas I hide my own water of life
As oil drops cover the surface of water.

(Divan 1672)

Translated by Fatemeh Keshavarz,
‘Reading Mystical Lyric: The Case of Jalal al-Din Rumi’,
University of South Carolina Press, 1998.