Wednesday, May 4, 2022

the silent articulation of a face







Love comes with a knife, not some
shy question, and not with fears
for its reputation! I say
these things disinterestedly. Accept them
in kind. Love is a madman

working his wild schemes, tearing off his clothes,
running through the mountains, drinking poison,
and now quietly choosing annihilation.

A tiny spider tries to wrap an enormous wasp.
Think of the spiderweb woven across the cave
where Mohammad slept! There are love stories,
and there is obliteration into love.

You've been walking the ocean’s edge,
holding up your robes to keep them dry.

You must dive naked under and deeper under,
a thousand times deeper! Love flows down.

The ground submits to the sky and suffers
what comes. Tell me, is the earth worse
for giving in like that?

Don’t put blankets over the drum!
Open completely. Let your spirit-ear
listen to the green dome’s passionate murmur.

Let the cords of your robe be untied.
Shiver in this new love beyond all
above and below. The sun rises, but which way
does night go? I have no more words.

Let soul speak with the silent
articulation of a face.

* * *




~ Jelalludin Rumi 
(1207 – 1273)
 translated by Coleman Barks








1 comments:

Mystic Meandering said...

Ooooo - so lovely...

"there are love stories, and there's obliteration into love"
"you've been walking the ocean's edge, holding up your robes
to keep them dry..."

Indeed...ready to dive deep now, and even deeper...

_/\_