Short Poems by Rumi

12

Late, by myself, in the boat of myself,

no light and no land anywhere,

cloudcover thick. I try to stay

just above the surface, yet I’m already under

and living within the ocean.

77

For years, copying other people, I tried to know myself.

From within, I couldn’t decide what to do.

Unable to see, I heard my name being called.

Then I walked outside.

82

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty

and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study

and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.

There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

914

Come to the orchard in the spring.

There is light and wine, and sweethearts and pomegranate flowers.

If you do not come, these do not matter.

If you do come, these do not matter.

1082

For a while we lived with people,

but we saw no sign in them of the faithfulness we wanted.

It’s better to hide completely within

as water hides in metal, as fire hides in rock.

1131

In pain, I breathe easier.

The scared child is running from the house, screaming.

I hear the gentleness.

Under nine layers of illusion, whatever the light,

on the face of any object, in the ground itself,

I see your face.

1246

The minute I heard my first love story

I started looking for you, not knowing

how blind that was.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.

They’re in each other all along.

Rumi

Open Secret: Versions of Rumi

trans. John Moyne and Coleman Barks

“The mystery does not get clearer by repeating the question”

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“The New Rule” by Rumi

It’s the old rule that drunks have to argue
and get into fights.
The lover is just as bad: he falls into a hole.
But down in that hole he finds something shining,
worth more than any amount of money or power.

Last night the moon came dropping its clothes in the street.
I took it as a sign to start singing,
falling up into the bowl of sky.
The bowl breaks. Everywhere is falling everywhere.
Nothing else to do.

Here’s the new rule: break the wineglass,
and fall toward the Glassblower’s breath.

Rumi
Open Secret: Versions of Rumi
trans. John Moyne and Coleman Barks

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