Natural Mystic

Shushtari

Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural
Natural, Natural, ay By God, Natural

 

A poor man like me, with a begging bag around my neck
My heart is free of any care
And I like people who are light-hearted
Such is the natural, he is liked by every natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

First thing in the morning, when I go out to work
I open my mouth and stretch out my hand
And for me, if I saw my granddad, who is not natural
For me, leaving him be, is only natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

I cover my body with needle and thread
of rough wool, which, for me, is a lot
“Who is that guy?” the people ask, bewildered
Still I’m just natural, loved by every Natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

My head is shaved and I walk around dazed
I beg in the market or at the mansions
Barefoot, walking the earth, saying: “Give for God’s sake,
some natural bread, to a natural man.”
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

I might sit down and not want to talk
I might lie on the earth as my bed
I graze on the earth’s grass, living well
The Natural one is loved by every Natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

I have a begging bag and a sea-shell
And a pot hung on the end of a stick
And my head is polished like a guitar
I walk naturally, naturally used to poverty
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

And when I stop at a town or market, I see the people come up to me
like brothers, their speech is well-intended
You see the Natural welcoming the Natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

I don’t fake anything, and I have no rule
I don’t crave food or clothes
and this position, is what every hypocrite needs
A natural poor man, loved by every natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

I know no jugde nor ruler
that’s more noble and natural for me
that’s how the high levels are described
A natural heart, in this state it is natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

Apart from these deeds, things are incomplete
Whoever humbles himself before a vizier or Sultan
Is arrogant and confused
His garment is natural, and by God, he is natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

Tearing the two sleeves, by this I mean, resurrection
Casting the two worlds from my heart
And I take off my two shoes to arrive at the Presence
Abandoning the unnatural is, for me, natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

I have a sitting mat that is pure like my heart
and a presence of intimacy with which I polish my cup
and a bunch of bags, a faqīr murabbī*
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural
Natural, Natural, ay, by God, Natural

 

*A poor man (Sufi) who trains others.

 

Original:

 

Bob Marley

Lyrics:

There’s a natural mystic
Blowing through the air
If you listen carefully now you will hear
This could be the first trumpet
Might as well be the last
Many more will have to suffer
Many more will have to die
Don’t ask me why

 

Things are not the way they used to be
I won’t tell no lie
One and all got to face reality now

 

Though I try to find the answer
To all the questions they ask
Though I know it’s impossible
To go living through the past
Don’t tell no lie

 

There’s a natural mystic
Blowing through the air
Can’t keep them down
If you listen carefully now you will hear
Such a natural mystic
Blowing through the air

 

This could be the first trumpet
Might as well be the last
Many more will have to suffer
Many more will have to die
Don’t ask me why

There’s a natural mystic
Blowing through the air
I won’t tell no lie
If you listen carefully now, you will hear
There’s a natural mystic
Blowing through the air

 

Lyrics:

Old Twinkling Lee
Can’t see the right roads when the streets are paved
The old slave mill, might grind slow
But it grinds fine… yeah

[Verse 1]
African Herbsman, why linger on?
Just concentrate cuz heaven lives on
Retired slaveman, will look with a scorn
With a transplanted heart

[Bridge – Bob Marley and the Wailers]

[The Wailers]
Yes how quick we have to part
Yes how quick we have to part

[Bob]
The remembrance… of today… is the sad feeling of tomorrow…

[The Wailers]
Yes how quick we have to part

[Bob]
Oh, oh yeah

[Verse 2]
African Herbsman, seize your time
I’m taking illusion on the edge of my mind
I’m taking losers down through my life
Down through my life, yeah

[Bridge – Bob Marley and the Wailers]

[The Wailers]
Yes how quick we have to part
Yes how quick we have to part

[Bob]
Did they part? Yes they part!
In remembrance of today…

[The Wailers]
Yes how quick we have to part

[Repeat Verse 1]

[Bridge – Bob Marley and the Wailers]

[The Wailers]
Yes how quick we have to part
Yes how quick we have to part

[Bob]
In remembrance, of today, brings sad feelings of tomorrow

[The Wailers]
Yes how quick we have to part

[Bob]
Believe me oh, oh lord I praise

African Herbsman
African Herbsman
African, African Herbsman

Chuang Tzu

 

The flowing of the stream does nothing, but follows its nature
The perfect man does the same with regard to virtue
He does nothing to cultivate it, but all is affected by its presence
He is like the height of Heaven: natural
or the solidity of the Earth
or the brightness of sun and moon—all-natural
There is no need to cultivate this.

 

What is meant by ‘the True Man?’ The True men of old did not reject (the views of) the few; they did not seek to accomplish (their ends) like heroes (before others); they did not lay plans to attain those ends. Being such, though they might make mistakes, they had no occasion for repentance; though they might succeed, they had no self-complacency. Being such, they could ascend the loftiest heights without fear; they could pass through water without being made wet by it; they could go into fire without being burnt; so it was that by their knowledge they ascended to and reached the Tâo.

The True men of old did not dream when they slept, had no anxiety when they awoke, and did not care that their food should be pleasant. Their breathing came deep and silently. The breathing of the true man comes (even) from his heels, while men generally breathe (only) from their throats. When men are defeated in argument, their words come from their gullets as if they were vomiting. Where lusts and desires are deep, the springs of the Heavenly are shallow.

The True men of old knew nothing of the love of life or of the hatred of death. Entrance into life occasioned them no joy; the exit from it awakened no resistance. Composedly they went and came. They did not forget what their beginning bad been, and they did not inquire into what their end would be. They accepted (their life) and rejoiced in it; they forgot (all fear of death), and returned (to their state before life). Thus there was in them what is called the want of any mind to resist the Tâo, and of all attempts by means of the Human to assist the Heavenly. Such were they who are called the True men.

Being such, their minds were free from all thought; their demeanour was still and unmoved; their foreheads beamed simplicity. Whatever coldness came from them was like that of autumn; whatever warmth came from them was like that of spring. Their joy and anger assimilated to what we see in the four seasons. They did in regard to all things what was suitable, and no one could know how far their action would go.

Words of love…

Translation:

There are words we kiss,
As if they had mouths
Words of love of hope,
Immense love, crazy hope

Naked words that kiss you
When the night loses taste,
Words that refuse,
The walls of your sorrow.

Suddenly, colorful,
Between words without color,
Expected, unexpected
Like poetry, love.

The name of the beloved,
Revealed letter by letter,
On discarded marble
On abandoned paper.

Naked words that kiss you,
When the night loses taste,
Words that refuse,
The walls of your sorrow.

Original:

Há palavras que nos beijam,
Como se tivessem boca,
Palavras de amor de esperança,
Imenso amor, esperança louca

Palavras, nuas que beijas,
Quando a noite perde o gosto,
Palavras que se recusam,
Aos muros do teu desgosto.

Derrepente, coloridas,
Entre palavras sem cores,
Esperadas inesperadas,
Como a poesia, o amor.

O nome de quem se ama,
Letra a letra revelado,
No mármore distaído,
No papel abandonado.

Palavras nuas que beijas,
Quando a noite perde o gosto,
Palavras que se recusam,
Aos muros do teu desgosto.

 

 

Translation:
Words of love, passing over my tongue
Coming to me from you, and returning to you
If it is your will, and you are the only one who wills,
The lover will be where your splendor manifests
When he submits to you
When you love your slave
You become his beloved
And raise his station

 

Original:

 كَلامُ حًبٍّ عَن لِساني عابِرُ
مِنك أتاني وإليك راجِعُ
لَقد شِئتَ وأنت وحدك تَشاءُ
فالعاشق مجلاك حِين يَخضَعُ
عِندَما ُتحبّ عبدَك فتَصيرُ
معشوقه ومقامه ترفعُ

Source: http://adabarabiqadim.blogspot.com/

 

James Taylor and Sufism

James Taylor’s/Carole King’s “You’ve got a Friend” is one of the most Sufi-sounding songs I’ve ever heard…

 

Lyrics:

When you’re down and troubled and you need a helping hand
and nothing, whoa, nothing is going right.
Close your eyes and think of me and soon I will be there
to brighten up even your darkest nights.

You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there, yeah, yeah,
you’ve got a friend.

If the sky above you should turn dark and full of clouds
and that old north wind should begin to blow,
keep your head together and call my name out loud.
Soon I will be knocking upon your door.
You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call and I’ll be there.

Hey, ain’t it good to know that you’ve got a friend? People can be so cold.
They’ll hurt you and desert you. Well, they’ll take your soul if you let them,
oh yeah, but don’t you let them.

You just call out my name, and you know where ever I am
I’ll come running to see you again.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall, all you have to do is call, Lord, I’ll be there, yeah, yeah,
you’ve got a friend. You’ve got a friend.
Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend. Ain’t it good to know you’ve got a friend.
Oh, yeah, yeah, you’ve got a friend.

 

 

Compare with the following Hadith Qudsi:
On the authority of Abu Hurayrah (may God be pleased with him), who said that the Prophet (peace and blessings of God be upon him) said:

“God Most High said:

‘I am as My servant thinks of me. I am with him when he makes mention of Me. If he makes mention of Me to himself, I make mention of him to Myself; and if he makes mention of Me in an assembly, I make mention of him in an assembly better than it. And if he draws near to Me an arm’s length, I draw near to him a fathom’s length. And if he comes to Me walking, I go to him at speed.'”

(recorded in the collections of Bukhari and Muslim)

 

Note:

The Arabic for “Make mention of Me” can also mean “Call My Name”…

 

Original:

عن أبي هريرة – رضي الله عنه – قال : قال النبي – صلى الله عليه وسلم – : يقول الله تعالى : أنا عند ظن عبدي بي ، وأنا معه إذا ذكرني ، فإن ذكرني في نفسه ذكرته في نفسي ، وإن ذكرني في ملإ ذكرته في ملإ خير منهم ، وإن تقرب إلي بشبر تقربت إليه ذراعا ، وإن تقرب إلي ذراعا تقربت إليه باعا ، وإن أتاني يمشي أتيته هرولة

 (رواه البخاري ومسلم) .

 

And in the Qur’an, Surah al-Baqarah (v.257) says:

“And God is the Friend of those who believe: He takes them from the darkness into the light…”

اللَّهُ وَلِيُّ الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا يُخْرِجُهُمْ مِنَ الظُّلُمَاتِ إِلَى النُّورِ

 

 

Rumi: By love

Translation:

By love, the bitter becomes sweet
By love copper coins become gold
By love, the dregs become clear
By love, the pain becomes healing
By love, the dead is made living
By love, the king is made a slave
And this love is the result of knowledge
Who, in foolishness, ever sat on such a throne?

 

Original:

 

از محبت تلخها شیرین شود
از محبت مسها زرین شود
از محبت دردها صافی شود
از محبت دردها شافی شود
از محبت مرده زنده می‌کنند
از محبت شاه بنده می‌کنند
این محبت هم نتیجهٔ دانشست
کی گزافه بر چنین تختی نشست

Compare with James Taylor’s song, the lyrics of which seem worthy of the Diwan-i Shams

 

 

Lyrics:

There’s something in the way she moves,
Or looks my way, or calls my name,
That seems to leave this troubled world behind.
And if I’m feeling down and blue,
Or troubled by some foolish game,
She always seems to make me change my mind.
And I feel fine anytime she’s around me now,
She’s around me now
Just about all the time
And if I’m well you can tell she’s been with me now,
She’s been with me now quite a long, long time
And I feel fine.
It isn’t what she’s got to say
But how she thinks and where she’s been
To me, the words are nice, the way they sound
I like to hear them best that way
It doesn’t much matter what they mean
If she says them mostly just to calm me down

And I feel fine anytime she’s around me now,
She’s around me now
Just about all the time
And if I’m well you can tell she’s been with me now,
She’s been with me now quite a long, long time
And I feel fine.
Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning
And I find myself careening
Into places where I should not let me go.
— She has the power to go where no one else can find me
And to silently remind me
Of the happiness and the good times that I know, got to know.
And I feel fine anytime she’s around me now,
She’s around me now
Just about all the time
And if I’m well you can tell she’s been with me now,
She’s been with me now quite a long, long time
And I feel fine.
Lyrics from http://www.elyrics.net

 

As Rumi is said to have written elsewhere:

You come to us from another world;
From beyond the stars and a void of space
Transcendent, pure – of unimaginable beauty.
Bringing with You the essence of Love.
You transform all who are touched by You –
Mundane concerns, troubles and sorrows dissolve in Your presence
Bringing joy to ruler & ruled, to peasants and kings.
You bewilder us with Your grace;
All evil is transformed into goodness.
You are the Master Alchemist!
You light the fire of Love in earth & sky,
In heart & soul of every being.
Through Your loving, existence & non-existence merge
All opposites unite
All that is profane becomes sacred again.
Be sure that in the Religion of Love, there are no believers or unbelievers
Love embraces all.

 

Un sentiment français

 

Ne me quitte pas

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=za_6A0XnMyw

 

Original:

 

Ne me quitte pas
Il faut oublier
Tout peut s’oublier
Qui s’enfuit déjà
Oublier le temps
Des malentendus
Et le temps perdu
A savoir comment
Oublier ces heures
Qui tuaient parfois
A coups de pourquoi
Le coeur du bonheur
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas

Moi je t’offrirai
Des perles de pluie
Venues de pays
Où il ne pleut pas
Je creuserai la terre
Jusqu’après ma mort
Pour couvrir ton corps
D’or et de lumière
Je ferai un domaine
Où l’amour sera roi
Où l’amour sera loi
Où tu seras reine
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas
Je t’inventerai
Des mots insensés
Que tu comprendras
Je te parlerai
De ces amants là
Qui ont vu deux fois
Leurs coeurs s’embraser
Je te racont’rai
L’histoire de ce roi
Mort de n’avoir pas
Pu te rencontrer
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas

On a vu souvent
Rejaillir le feu
De l’ancien volcan
Qu’on croyait trop vieux
Il est paraît-il
Des terres brûlées
Donnant plus de blé
Qu’un meilleur avril
Et quand vient le soir
Pour qu’un ciel flamboie
Le rouge et le noir
Ne s’épousent-ils pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas
Je ne vais plus pleurer
Je ne vais plus parler
Je me cacherai là
À te regarder
Danser et sourire
Et à t’écouter
Chanter et puis rire
Laisse-moi devenir
L’ombre de ton ombre
L’ombre de ta main
L’ombre de ton chien
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas

Translation:
Don’t leave me now
We must forget
All can be forgotten
It escapes already
Forget the time
The misunderstandings
And the moments lost
We must know how
Forget those hours
Which killed at times
With each thrust of why
The heart of happiness
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now

Me I’ll offer you
Pearls of rain
That come from a country
Where rain never falls
I would mine the earth
‘Til after my death
To cover your body
With gold and with light
I’ll make a kingdom
Where love shall be king
Where love shall be law
Where you shall be queen
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now

Don’t leave me now
I’ll invent for you
Such nonsense words
That you’ll understand
I’ll speak to you
Of those lovers there
Who have seen two times
their hearts all ablaze
I will recount for you
The story of that king
Dead for not having
the chance to meet you
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now

We have often seen
Fire gush out
From an ancient volcano
We thought was too old
There are, it seems
Some scorched fields
That yield more wheat
Than the best of April
And when evening comes
So that the sky is ablaze
The black and the red
Do they not wed
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now

Don’t leave me now
I’ll no longer cry
I’ll no longer speak
I’ll hide right there
Just to look at you
Watch you dance and smile
And listen to you
As you sing and laugh
Let me become
The shadow of your shadow
The shadow of your hand
The shadow of your hound
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now
Don’t leave me now

Translation from:  http://tracingwind.livejournal.com/25933.html

 

Hier Encore (Yesterday when I was young)

 

Translation:

Yesterday when I was young
The taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue,
I teased at life as if it were a foolish game
The way the evening breeze may tease a candle flame.
The thousand dreams I dreamed, the splendid things I planned
I always built, alas, on weak and shifting sand,
I lived by night and shunned the naked light of day
And only now I see how the years ran away.
Yesterday when I was young
So many drinking songs were waiting to be sung,
So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me
And so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see.
I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out
I never stopped to think what life was all about,
And every conversation I can now recall
Concerned itself with me, me, and nothing else at all.
Yesterday the moon was blue
And every crazy day brought something new to do,
I used my magic age as if it were a wand
And never saw the waste and emptiness beyond.
The game of love I played with arrogance and pride
And every flame I lit too quickly, quickly died.
The friends I made all seemed, somehow, to drift away
And only I am left on stage to end the play.
There are so many songs in me that won’t be sung,
I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue.
The time has come for me to pay for yesterday
When I was young… young… young

Original:

 

Hier encore
J’avais vingt ans
Je caressais le temps
Et jouais de la vie
Comme on joue de l’amour
Et je vivais la nuit
Sans compter sur mes jours
Qui fuyaient dans le temps

J’ai fait tant de projets
Qui sont restés en l’air
J’ai fondé tant d’espoirs
Qui se sont envolés
Que je reste perdu
Ne sachant où aller
Les yeux cherchant le ciel
Mais le coeur mis en terre

Hier encore
J’avais vingt ans
Je gaspillais le temps
En croyant l’arrêter
Et pour le retenir
Même le devancer
Je n’ai fait que courir
Et me suis essoufflé

Ignorant le passé
Conjuguant au futur
Je précédais de moi
Toute conversation
Et donnais mon avis
Que je voulais le bon
Pour critiquer le monde
Avec désinvolture

Hier encore
J’avais vingt ans
Mais j’ai perdu mon temps
A faire des folies
Qui ne me laissent au fond
Rien de vraiment précis
Que quelques rides au front
Et la peur de l’ennui

Car mes amours sont mortes
Avant que d’exister
Mes amis sont partis
Et ne reviendront pas
Par ma faute j’ai fait
Le vide autour de moi
Et j’ai gâché ma vie
Et mes jeunes années

Du meilleur et du pire
En jetant le meilleur
J’ai figé mes sourires
Et j’ai glacé mes pleurs
Où sont-ils à présent
A présent mes vingt ans?

 

 

Fado, wind and sea

06 Fim

End

Not birds, nor stars, nor sails
Are as beautiful in my breast
Daybreak falls silent in my eyes
The night enveloped me so
With this pain as if from a dagger
With this cry of a love without end

Love without end, love without time and measure
Water drawn from the distance, from its source
Light that dawns without dimming
Love that wants to be a breeze, but is a gale
Love that wants to be rain, but is a storm
It is all or nothing and there is everything to lose.

Original:

Fim

Nem pássaros, nem astros, nem veleiros
São tão belos dentro do meu peito
Calou-se a madrugada nos meus olhos
Por isso a noite me envolveu assim
Com esta dor que é asa de punhal
Com este grito de um amor sem fim

Amor sem fim, amor sem tempo e sem medida
Água que brota ao longe da nascente
Luz que amanhece sem anoitecer
Amor que quer ser brisa e é vendaval
Amor que quer ser chuva e é temporal
Que é tudo ou nada e tudo há de perder

Fado of Perdition:

This love is not a river
It has the vastness of the sea
The green dance of the waves
Sobbing in my eyes.

I tried to forget the words
Unspoken between us
But hanging over the silence
On the shores of our voice

I tried to forget your eyes
That do not know how to read mine
But in them is born the daybreak
That dawns on the earth and the heavens

I tried to forget your name
Pluck it from my thoughts
But it returns at every instant
Entwined in the wind.

I tried to see my image
But it was yours that I saw
In my mirror, for I bear
The flat eyes of you.

This love is not a river
It has abysses like the sea
And the black mantle of the waves
Shrouds me in blackness

This love is not a river
It has the vastness of the sea

 

Translations from: http://lyricstranslate.com

Original:

Fado Perdição

Este amor não é um rio
Tem a vastidão do mar
A dança verde das ondas
Soluça no meu olhar

Tentei esquecer as palavras
Nunca ditas entre nós
Mas pairam sobre o silencio
Nas margens da nossa voz

Tentei esquecer os teus olhos
Que não sabem ler nos meus
Mas neles nasce a alvorada
Que amanhece a terra e os céus

Tentei esquecer o teu nome
Arrancá-lo ao pensamento
Mas regressa a todo o instante
Entrelaçado no vento

Tentei ver a minha imagem
Mas foi a tua que vi
No meu espelho, porque trago
Os olhos rasos de ti

Este amor não é um rio
Tem abismos como o mar
E o manto negro das ondas
Cobre-me de negro o olhar

Este amor não é um rio
Tem a vastidão do mar

A bit more Cristina Branco:

Rumi-Just for me

You belong to me to me to me

 
جان منی جان منی جان من
You are my life my life my life essence
آن منی آن منی آن من
You belong to me to me to me alone
شاه منی لایق سودای من
You are my king, we deserve to mingle
قند منی لایق دندان من
You are my sweet sugar cube, deserving only of my teeth
نور منی باش در این چشم من
You are my light, remain here in my eyes
چشم من و چشمه حیوان من
My eyes and the very life giving fountain of my life
گل چو تو را دید به سوسن بگفت
When the flower saw you,
told the rose
سرو من آمد به گلستان من
The greatest of flowers has come to my garden
از دو پراکنده تو چونی بگو
Tell me why we are apart
Why are you not here with me?
زلف تو حال پریشان من
I grow sad when I don’t see the curves of your beautiful hair
ای رسن زلف تو پابند من
Your locks lock my feet
چاه زنخدان تو زندان من
As if trapped inside that famous well
دست فشان مست کجا میروی
Take my hand, where are you off to?
پیش من آ ای گل خندان من
My smiling flower, come to me !

 

Translation: Ali Arsanjani; from http://rumi-poetry.blogspot.com/

 

Compare with the right Rev. Al Green:

Carminho and Rumi-Pain

A Voz

 

 

Translation:

Sometimes there is a voice that rises
Higher than the world and higher than us
And makes my eyes weep, when it sings
In the tears that silence my voice

It plunges my senses and time
To the farthest point of who I am
And embraces that place, so gray
That lurks beneath the mist there

And calls out in my breast when I feel
The nearness of a sad face, of a love
Higher than the world and higher than people
The voice is not a voice, it is called pain

Original:

Às vezes há una voz que se levanta
Mais alta do que o Mundo e do que nós
E faz chover-me os olhos, quando canta
Num pranto que emudece a minha voz

Afunda-me os sentidos e o tempo
Ao ponto mais distante do que sou
E abraça aquele lugar que, tão cinzento,
Se esconde sob a névoa que ficou

E grita-mo no peito quando sente
Chegar a face triste de um amor
Mais alta do que o mundo e do que a gente
A voz já não é voz chama-se dor.

Lyrics and Translation from lyricstranslate.com

 

 

Hunger gives pleasure, not fresh sweetmeats
        hunger makes barley bread better than sugar. . . .
Pain renews old medicines and lops off
        the branch of every indifference.
Pains are an alchemy that renews—
     who can be bored when pain appears?
Beware, do not sigh coldly in boredom—
     seek pain, seek pain, pain, pain!

 

-Rūmī
(Mathnawi 6:4403-4304)

 

 Love is the cure, for your pain
will keep giving birth to more pain
until your eyes constantly exhale love
as effortlessly as your body yields its scent.

 

-Rūmī

White Doves

Pombas Brancas

Translation:

White doves
Flying high
Scratching the shadows
Of the large clouds
There they go
Doves that do not return

They bring within
Their wings
In rosy beaks
Scattered clouds
On the sea
Doves of my singing

Merely singing
Various recollections
Coming on the paths
Nobody knows
Where they go
The Doves that do not return

 

Original:

Pombas brancas
Que voam altas
Riscando as sombras
Das nuvens largas
Lá vão
Pombas que não voltam

Trazem dentro
Das asas prendas
Nas bicos rosas
Nuvens desfeitas
No mar
Pombas do meu cantar

Canto apenas
Lembranças várias
Vindas das sendas
Que ninguém sabe
Onde vão
Pombas que não voltam

Lyrics and Translation from LyricsTranslate.com

 

Eye Adaba

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-XEKOW51nkc

Translation:
The day has dawned, the day has dawned upon me
In this land, the day has dawned, I see hope

 

White Dove, White Dove
That flies high, high above the sky
Come land on me
The Day has dawned, I see hope

 

Speak so we can hear you

 

White Dove, White Dove
That flies high, high above the sky
Come land on me
The Day has dawned, I see hope

 

Original:

 

Oju mo ti mo
Oju mo ti mo mi
Ni le yi o o
Oju mo ti mo – mo ri re o 

Eye abada
Eye adaba
Eye adaba ti n fo l’oke l’oke ori orun
Wa ba le mi o o
Oju mo ti mo mo ri re o

 

E wi ki’n gbo se

 

Eye abada
Eye adaba
Eye adaba ti n fo lo ke lo ke
Wa ba le mi o o
Oju mo ti mo, mo ri re o

Gentle Now, Doves of the Thicket

 

 

Gentle now,
doves of the thornberry and moringa thicket,
don’t add to my heart-ache
your sighs.

Gentle now,
or your sad cooing
will reveal the love I hide
the sorrow I hide away.

I echo back, in the evening,
in the morning, echo,
the longing of a love-sick lover,
the moaning of the lost.

In a grove of tamarisks
spirits wrestled,
bending the limbs down over me,
passing me away.

They brought yearning,
breaking of the heart,
and other new twists of pain,
putting me through it.

Who is there for me in Jám’,
and the Stoning-Place at Miná,
who for me at Tamarisk Grove,
or at the way-station of Na’mān?
Hour by hour
they circle my heart
in rapture, in love-ache,
and touch my pillars with a kiss.

As the best of creation
circled the Ka’ba,
which reason with its proofs
called unworthy,

And kissed the stones there –
and he was the Natiq!
And what is the house of stone
compared to a man or a woman?

They swore, and how often!
they’d never change – piling up vows.
She who dyes herself red with henna
is faithless.

A white-blazed gazelle
is an amazing sight,
red-dye signalling,
eyelids hinting,

Pasture between breastbones
and innards.
Marvel,
a garden among the flames!

My heart can take on
any form:
a meadow for gazelles,
a cloister for monks,

For the idols, sacred ground,
Ka’ba for the circling pilgrim,
the tables of the Torah,
the scrolls of the Qur’án.

I profess the religion of love;
wherever its caravan turns along the way,
that is the belief,
the faith I keep.

Like Bishr,
Hind and her sister,
love-mad Qays and his lost Láyla,
Máyya and her lover Ghaylán.

-Ibn ‘Arabi

(trans. Michael Sells)

from: http://www.ibnarabisociety.org/articles/poemtarjuman11.html

 

Original:

ألا يا حَماماتِ الأراكَة ِ والبَانِ                   ترَفّقْنَ لا تُضْعِفْنَ بالشجوِ أشجاني
ترَفّقْنَ لا تُظهرنَ بالنّوح والبُكا                     خفيَّ صباباتي ومكنونَ أحزاني
أُطارحُها عند الأصيلِ وبالضحى                        بحنَّة ِ مشتاقٍ وأنَّة ِ هيمانِ
تَنَاوَحَتِ الأرواحُ في غَيضَة ِ الغَضا                       فمالتْ بأفنانٍ عليَّ فأفناني
وجاءتْ منَ الشَّوقِ المبرَّحِ والجوى                   ومن طُرَفِ البَلْوَى إليّ بأفْنانِ
فمَن لي بجمعٍ والمحصَّب مِن مِنًى             ومَنْ لي بِذاتِ الأثْلِ مَنْ لِي بنَعْمان
تطوفُ بقلبي ساعة ً بعدَ ساعة ٍ                         لوَجدٍ وتبريحٍ وتَلثُمُ أركاني
كما طاف خيرُ الرُّسلِ بالكعبة ِ التي                  يقولُ دليلُ العقْلِ فيها بنُقصَانِ
وقبّلَ أحجاراً بها، وهو ناطقٌ                        وأينَ مَقامُ البيتِ من قدرِ إنسانِ
فكَم عَهِدَتْ أن لا تحولَ وأقسمتْ                      وليس لمخضوبٍ وفاءٌ بأيمانِ
ومنْ أعجبِ الأشياءِ ظبى ُ مبرقعُ                      يشيرُ بعنَّابٍ ويومي بأجفانِ
ومَرعاهُ ما بينَ التّرائِبِ والحَشَا                ويا عَجَباً من روضة ٍ وَسَطَ نيرانِ
لقدْ صارَ قلبي قابلاً كلَّ صورة ٍ                      فمَرْعًى لغِزْلاَنٍ وديرٌ لرُهْبانِ
وبَيْتٌ لأوثانٍ وكعبة ُ طائفٍ                       ، وألواحُ توراة ٍ ومصحفُ قرآنِ
أدينُ بدينِ الحبِّ أنَّى توجَّهتْ                          رَكائِبُهُ فالحُبُّ ديني وإيماني
لنا أُسْوَة ٌ في بِشْرِ هندٍ وأُخْتِهَا                       وقيسٍ وليلى ، ثمَّ مي وغيلانِ