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Jalāl ad-Dīn Mohammad Rūmī (1207 — 1273), also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Mohammad Balkhī, Mowlānā, or more simply and popularly as Rumi, was a 13th-century Persian poet, scholar, philosopher, and Sufi mystic.
Rumi's parents were originally from Balkh in modern-day Afghanistan, which was an important center of Persian poetry and literature during that time. His father, Baha ud-Din Walad, a well-regarded theologian, jurist and mystic, was an important spiritual influence on Rumi's life, as well as previous Sufi mystics and poets, like Sanai and Attar. For centuries, Rumi's ancestors, who are believed to be famous Islamic jurists, had practiced Islamic preaching, a profession that Rumi initially continued.
When Rumi was a young child, the Mongols, led by Genghis Khan, invaded Central Asia, forcing Rumi's family to escape westwards via caravan to avoid persecution and death. On his travels, it is believed that Rumi encountered Attar in Nishapur, during which the elder mystic gave the teenager his Asrar Nama (Farsi: "The Book of Secrets"), which had a significant impact on Rumi's life outlook, philosophy, and poetry. The Asrar Nama, which focuses on how the soul is attached and imprisoned by the objects of this material world, is said to have greatly inspired Rumi's works. Attar himself recognized the spiritual potential in Rumi, and is quoted as saying the following when he saw Rumi's father walking ahead of him: "Here comes a sea followed by an ocean."
After Nishapur, the caravan headed toward Baghdad, where Rumi and his family met with many scholars and Sufis, before performing pilgrimage in Mecca. The caravan then traveled through Damascus and other cities in medieval Middle East, before settling in Karaman, Turkey, south of Konya, where they lived for seven years. Rumi's formative years as a migrant traveling from land to land without really having a permanent home is likely to have influenced and mirrored his spiritual journey as a wanderer.
When he was 18 years old, Rumi married Gowhar Khatun, who bore him two sons: Sultan Walad and Ala-eddin Chalabi. When Khatun passed away, Rumi married again, this time producing a son, Amir Alim Chalabi, and a daughter, Malakeh Khatun. Three years later, Baha ud-Din moved his family to Konya where they finally settled and where he became the head of a madrassa (or religious school).
When Rumi turned 25, his father passed away and he felt a deep void in his spirituality with the absence of his greatest influence up until that time. He followed his father's footsteps and took over the role of the Islamic molvi, or Muslim doctor of law. For roughly nine years, Rumi practiced Sufism under one of Baha ud-Din's disciples, Burhan ud-Din, who helped steer him back on track and prepare him for an even greater spiritual encounter down the road. When Burhan ud-Din died around 1241, Rumi became an Islamic jurist and began giving sermons in the mosques of Konya, while teaching his followers in the madrassa.
But it wasn't until November 15, 1244—what is now a famous day in history—that Rumi's life turned upside down.
On this day, Rumi met the wandering dervish and mystic Shams-e Tabrizi in Damascus, who transformed Rumi from an accomplished teacher, scholar and jurist to a humble ascetic. Shams (Farsi: the "Sun") saw Rumi's pride in having immense religious knowledge and fame, and grabbed and threw Rumi's religious books on the ground, signifying that he knew nothing.
Later, Rumi would write in one of his poems:
I lost my world, my fame, my mind—
The Sun appeared, and all the shadows ran.
I ran after them, but vanished as I ran—
Light ran after me and hunted me down.
There's a wonderful story about Shams traveling through the region and imploring God for a companion who could "endure" his company. A voice replied back asking what he would give in return. Shams swiftly replies: "my head." The voice then responded: "the one you seek is Jalal ud-Din of Konya."
Under Shams' spiritual guidance, Rumi became introduced to divine love, music, poetry, and dance through the mystic Sufi practice of Sama. The two formed an inseparable bond, fueled by their mutual interests in poetry and mysticism, which is believed to have isolated Rumi from his students and family members, some of whom are said to have grown jealous of Rumi's special companion. Two years after they met, Shams abruptly left Konya for a year, during which time Rumi wrote many poetic letters pleading for him to return. He had already felt immense loneliness following his father's and Burhan ud-Din's deaths, and with Shams leaving, Rumi felt that he was regressing back into a spiritual void.
When Shams returned, however, he disappeared shortly after, with several sources suggesting that he was murdered at the order of Rumi's son Ala-eddin. On the evening of December 5, 1248, while Rumi and Shams were talking inside the house, a voice called Shams out to the back door, and as he left the room, he was never seen again. If the story is indeed true that he was murdered, then Shams really did pay the price of his head (e.g. life) in exchange for mystical friendship.
His death sent Rumi reeling into depression, and to express and cope with his bereavement, Rumi began writing hundreds of lyric poems, which altogether formed The Divan of Shams-e Tabrizi (or Book of Shams of Tabriz). Rumi dedicated the Divan to Shams, and in it, we get to see Rumi's first major work experimenting with trance-like poetry that deals with very deep subjects, like love, friendship, longing, reunion, and Oneness. He even went as far as to return to Damascus, hoping to find Shams, until he finally realized that true love has no boundaries, duality, or end—that he and Shams, have always, actually been One.
He remarks in one his poems:
"Why should I seek? I am the same as
He. His essence speaks through me.
I have been looking for myself!"
After Rumi came to terms with this, he continued to write many lyric poems, until one of his companions, Husaam al-Din Chalabi, inspired him to produce an even greater masterpiece than the Divan.
The two were walking through some vineyards outside of Konya one day, when Husaam explained to Rumi how great it would be if Rumi composed an epic mystic poem, similar to Sanai's "The Walled Garden of Truth" or Attar's "The Conference of the Birds," which Rumi's followers regularly read. Husaam's rationale was that such a poem could serve as a companion to many musical composers and performers of lyric poetry. Rumi is said to have smiled, took out a piece of paper, and wrote these famous two lines:
بشنو از نی چون حکایت می کند
از جدایی ها شکایت می کند
Listen to the ney, how it tells this sad tale,
Lamenting separations (from the One beyond scale)
Husaam begged Rumi to write more, and the mystic dedicated the next 12 years of his life to composing and dictating the rest of the epic poem, which eventually made up the six volumes of Rumi's greatest and most famous work: the Masnavi-e Ma'navi (or "The Spiritual Couplets"). Rumi would dictate the poems spontaneously to Husaam who would write them down, before reviewing them and editing them in manuscript. Made up of 25,000 verses, the Masnavi is considered one of the greatest Persian and Sufi poems in history, and is commonly considered the "Quran in Persian." The epic poem teaches us how to truly love and reunite with God, and uses a variety of anecdotes and stories to relay an even deeper message.
Many commentators regard it to be the greatest mystical poem ever, and it's no surprise that Rumi saved his best piece for last, not even having time to finish the sixth and final volume. In December of 1273, he fell ill and is said to have even predicted his own death, passing away days later on December 17. Many refer to the day of his passing as Shab-e Aroos (or "Wedding Night"), to signify that the mystic has finally united with his Beloved.
Rumi's death was mourned by people from all faiths and walks of life in Konya. His body was buried beside his father, and a massive shrine was built over his burial site with an epitaph that reads:
"When we are dead, seek not our tomb in the earth, but find it in the
hearts of men."
His poetic, spiritual and literary legacy has endured and flourished over the past eight centuries, most notably in the Persian-speaking world, but also across the globe, including the U.S, where he has earned the honors of being “the best selling poet” and “the most popular poet.” Today, you can find his books, poems, quotes, and teachings translated into dozens of languages and used in a variety of formats from concerts and dance performances to workshops, readings, and other artistic work, making him one of the most preeminent figures of Sufi poetry and philosophy. He is a symbol of universal peace, love, and harmony, and his messages of reuniting with the Beloved is seen by many as the principal meaning of life.
Last night I learned how to be a lover of God,
To live in this world and call nothing my own.
I looked inward
and the beauty of my own emptiness
filled me till dawn.
It enveloped me like a mine of rubies.
Its hue clothed me in red silk.
Within the cavern of my soul
I heard the voice of a lover crying,
"Drink now! Drink now!"—
I took a sip and saw the vast ocean—
Wave upon wave caressed my soul.
The lovers of God dance around
And the circle of their steps
becomes a ring of fire round my neck.
Heaven calls me with its rain and thunder—
a hundred thousand cries
yet I cannot hear...
All I hear is the call of my Beloved.
-Rumi
I lost my world, my fame, my mind—
The Sun appeared, and all the shadows ran.
I ran after them, but vanished as I ran—
Light ran after me and hunted me down.
If we come to sleep
we are His drowsy ones.
And if we come to wake
we are in His hands.
If we come to weeping
we are His cloud full of raindrops.
And if we come to laughing
we are His lightning in that moment.
If we come to anger and battle
it is the reflection of His wrath.
And if we come to peace and pardon
it is the reflection of His love.
Who are we in this complicated world?”
Let go of thought and bring it not into your heart,
for you are naked and thought is an icy wind.
You think in order to escape from torment and suffering,
but your thinking is torment’s fountainhead.
Know that the bazaar of God’s Making is outside of thought -
contemplate His effects, oh you who are dominated by fire!
Behold that Lane from which all forms are flying,
that Stream which turns the mill-wheel of the heavens.
That Rose-faced Beauty who makes the faces of the heart-ravishers like roses,
that Source of all temptations from whom lovers’ cheeks are inflamed!
These hundred thousand birds keep flying happily from Nonexistence,
these hundred thousand arrows keep streaming forth from one Bow.
~ Rumi
Lose yourself,
Lose yourself in this love.
When you lose yourself in this love,
you will find everything.
Lose yourself,
Lose yourself.
Do not fear this loss,
For you will rise from the earth
and embrace the endless heavens.
Lose yourself,
Lose yourself.
Escape from this earthly form,
For this body is a chain
and you are its prisoner.
Smash through the prison wall
and walk outside with the kings and princes.
Lose yourself,
Lose yourself at the foot of the glorious King.
When you lose yourself
before the King
you will become the King.
Lose yourself,
Lose yourself.
Escape from the black cloud
that surrounds you.
Then you will see your own light
as radiant as the full moon.
Now enter that silence.
This is the surest way
to lose yourself. . . .
What is your life about, anyway?—
Nothing but a struggle to be someone,
Nothing but a running from your own silence.
Not only do the thirsty seek water,
The water too thirsts for the thirsty.
ای ساربان غمگین مباش خوش روزگاری می رسد
یا عمر غم سر می رسد یا غمگساری می رسد
ای ساربان آهسته ران قدری تحمل بیشتر
این کشتی طوفان زده آخر کناری می رسد
مولانا
O caravan-driver! Don't be sad. The good times will come.
Either the sad life will end or a comforter will arrive.
O caravan-driver! Slowly, have a little more patience.
A storm has wrecked this ship, but in the end, the shore will come.
---
Original translation by Najim
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other”
doesn’t make any sense.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.
The Absolute works with nothing.
The workshop, the materials
are what does not exist.
Try and be a sheet of paper with nothing on it.
Be a spot of ground where nothing is growing,
where something might be planted,
a seed, possibly, from the Absolute.
---
Edited by Ivan M. Granger
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression,
a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
~ Translated by Coleman Barks
When I die,
when my coffin
is being taken out,
you must never think
I am missing this world.
Don't shed any tears.
Don't lament
or feel sorry.
I'm not falling
into a monster's abyss.
When you see
my corpse is being carried,
don't cry for my leaving.
I'm not leaving.
I'm arriving at eternal love.
When you leave me
in the grave,
don't say goodbye.
Remember a grave is
only a curtain
for the paradise behind.
You'll only see me
descending into a grave.
Now, watch me rise.
How can there be an end
when the sun sets or
the moon goes down?
It looks like the end.
It seems like a sunset,
but in reality it is a dawn.
When the grave locks you up,
that is when your soul is freed.
Have you ever seen
a seed fallen to earth
not rise with a new life?
Why should you doubt the rise
of a seed named human?
Have you ever seen
a bucket lowered into a well
coming back empty?
Why lament for a soul
when it can come back
like Joseph from the well?
When for the last time
you close your mouth,
your words and soul
will belong to the world of
no place no time.