The Passion of Poetry
Translation. The stars will be watching us, and we will show them what it is to be a thin crescent moon. In the hand of Love I am like a cat in a sack; Sometimes Love hoists me into the air, Sometimes Love flings me into the air, Love swings me round and round His head; I have no peace, in this world or any other. On January 3, 1999, at about two o'clock in the morning, m was born. 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. Oh fly, of fly, O my soul-bird, fly to your primordial home! Chittick (Translator) Published 1983 Where Two Oceans Meet A Selection of Odes from the Divan of Shems of Tabriz Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi, James. Our camel driver is at work; the caravan is being readied. Vision, see nothing I don't see. 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." He said, "How long will. The starts and the moon are envious of each other. Reason seeks a profit.
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The Emotion of Poetry
If anyone asks you how the perfect satisfaction of all our sexual wanting will look, lift your face and say, Like this. You and I unselfed, will be together, indifferent to idle speculation, you and. 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. I am a sky where spirits a Rose for Emily Report live. They can touch us, move us, delight us, enlighten us, make us laugh, make us cry, and both soften and enrich our deepest memories. I am troubled by the one whose face e has the color of spring flowers. Why should not every Sufi begin to dance atom-like Around the Sun of duration that saves from impermanence? God is working everywhere his massive Resurrection; How can we pretend to act on our own? 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. By my passion of love for Love.
The Passion of Poetry
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