Love is the dancing cry of the soul...by Rumi

Love is the dancing cry of the soul, 
calling the body to worship 

Like a shining whirlpool, 
or a spinning mayfly 
So is love among the skies.

I leap across the mountaintops,
madly singing the song of all songs

I float through the ether, intoxicated, thrilled
I think only of your love, your calling to me

And I dance the thousand dances of love,
all returning to you.

It is not the play of children,
nor the detached unity of wise sages
Unreal! Unnecessary!
Where is the beauty?

When I, like a glowing comet,
may flash around your sun
Laughing, singing,
with the joy of loving you!

Wine makes drunk the mind and body
But it is love which thrills the soul

When I approach you,
I feel the mad pounding of love

The singing wonder
The joy which opens
blossoms on the trees of the world.

Come to me, and I shall dance with you
In the temples, on the beaches, through the crowded streets

Be you man or woman, plant or animal, slave or free
I shall show you the brilliant crystal fires, shining within

I shall show you the beauty deep within your soul
I shall show the path beyond Heaven.

Only dance, and your illusions will blow in the wind
Dance, and make joyous the love around you

Dance, and your veils which hide the Light
Shall swirl in a heap at your feet.

~ Rumi 

When you dance.....by Rumi

When you dance
the whole universe dances.

The world dances around the Sun.
The morning light breaks,
Spinning up with delight.

How could anyone
Touched by your love
Not dance like a weeping willow?

Today I spin wildly
throughout the city;
I am the cup-bearer,
My head is the cup.

Perhaps a scholar will see me
and drop his books.

Perhaps the world will see me
and forget all its sorrows.

~ Rumi
Art by by Gülcan Karadağ

Dance, when you're broken open...by Rumi

Dance, when you're broken open.
Dance, if you've torn the bandage off.

Dance in the middle of fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you're perfectly free.

Struck,
the dancers hear the tambourine inside them,
as a wave turns the foam on its very top, begin.

Maybe you don't hear that tambourine,
all the tree leaves clapping time.

Close the ears on your head
that listen mostly to lies
and cynical jokes.

There are other things to hear and see
dance, music and a brilliant city inside the soul.

~ Rumi
The Essential Rumi, 
translations by Coleman Barks with John Moyne 
Art by Richard Young

If wheat sprouts out of my grave.....by Rumi

If wheat sprouts out of my grave,
the bread you make of it will get you drunk.

The baker and the dough will go insane,
and the oven will recite intoxicating verses.

If you come to visit my grave,
My tomb will appear to dance.

Dear! Don’t come without a tambourine,
for the sad can’t join in God’s celebration.

Though deep in the grave, the chin closed tight,
this mouth still chews the beloved’s opium and sugarplum.

If you tear a piece off that shroud and fasten it round your chest,
a tavern will open up from your soul.

From every direction comes the sound of the harp,
and hue and cry from the drunk.

Every action will perforce give rise to another one.
God has created me from love’s wine;
even if death takes me, I am the same love.

I am intoxication; my origin is the wine of love.
Tell me: what comes from wine except intoxication?

Toward the lofty soul of Shams of Tabriz
my soul is flying, lingering not even a single moment.

~ Rumi
Rumi translations courtesy of Reynold A. Nicholson.

Whatever there is, is only He...by Rumi

Whatever there is, is only He,
your foot steps there in dancing:
The whirling, see, belongs to you,
and you belong to the whirling.

What can I do when Love appears
and puts its claws around my neck?
I grasp it, take it to my breast
and drag it into the whirling!

And when the bosom of the motes
is filled with the glow of the sun,
They enter all the dance, the dance
and do not complain in the whirling.

~ Rumi
Schimmel A. Rumi's World.
The Life and Work of the Great Sufi Poet.
Boston, Massachusetts: Shambhala,2001