Spring is here, friends. Let’s stay in the garden And be guests to the strangers of the green.
We’ll fly from one flower to the other, Like bees making the six corners Of this earth’s hives prosperous.
An envoy came from this fortress And said, “Don’t beat the drum secretly. With our yells, we would tear down the place Where that Love’s drum is beating.”
Hear that voice which comes from the sky, “Rise, all insane ones. I sacrifice my Soul to the insane. Let’s scatter our Soul today.”
Let’s break all the chains. Every one of us is a blacksmith. Let’s go to the fireplace where the pincers are.
Let’s fan the flame of the Heart’s fire Like the furnace of blacksmiths. So we can have iron Hearts Under our control with breath.
We’ll put fire in this universe, Incite riots in the sky, Make his sober, resisting mind Turn around, become dizzy like ours.
We are like a ball, without hands and feet, Sometimes at the end And sometimes at the beginning of the square.
Who told you we could do what we want? Who told you we are independent?
No, no. We are like a club In the hand of the Beloved We send hundreds of thousands of balls To His feet.
Let’s be silent. Silence is made With some material like craziness.
His mind is such a fire That we hide this fire by wrapping it in cotton.
~ Rumi Translation by Nevit O. Ergin “Divan-i Kebir” — Meter 1 Walla Walla, Washington: Current, 1995. Art by Mary Leslie |
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