Monday, 2 July 2012

What is this anger...? Rumi

What is this anger?
You left me no food, 
and took my sleep away.

You turned your face from me,
Then directed me to the Mihrab.

You changed the taste in my mouth,
It’s more bitter than poison.

You scared the daylight out of me,
You melted my lungs with your sorrow.

You sent me to Hadj,
And made me lose my way in the desert.
You gave my camel, my belongings, to Arabs.

Sometimes, you give a drought,
Burn my crops, and dry my fruits.

Sometimes you give a flood,
And wipe away everything with rain.

If I run away from your roof,
You hit me with arrows.

If I climb your roof,
You bring me down with melodies.

When I behave, you say,
“Come on, you are not drunk.”

When you don’t like my manner,
You start telling stories about morals.

If your kindness rains on my roof,
You turn my eyes into a gutter with tears.

When I ceased to associate with people,
When I became recluse,
“Now,” you said, “you turned into a monk.”

When I socialize, you make my friends enemies to me.
If I wrap my heart with your sorrow, like linen,
If I would be weaved by your troubles,
You melt me like linen under the moonlight,
You destroy me from my source.

When I believe, trust you,
“Reason is our way”, you say.
When I start reasoning,
You say, “Logic is not good.”

You hunt the falcon of the soul,
And break its nails.
The body becomes a trained dog,
You make him weak, tired and old.

If the jeweler of our face’s color opens a store,
You tell everyone,
“Our jeweler sells fake goods,”

Giving me a bad reputation.
Who am I?

Even the real morning trembles at your door.
By fear, “He may find me out as a liar.”

You destroy everything,
Then you gave a hundred times more back.

You send winter,
Then you bring spring,
Making everything green again.
You cut the neck of the stars,
With the sword of the Sun.
Then give them a face like a hünnap,
Offer sparkles.

When man stays silent,
“Talk”, you say.
When he talks,
You say, “Be silent.”
Why are you knocking such a door?

~ Rumi
(What is this anger?)
Mihrab Niche in a mosque’s wall facing Mecca
You melt me like linen under the moonlight An old belief
hünnap Jujube (botanical term)
Photo by Belle Heywood

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