All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.
This poetry, I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.
This poetry, I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.
- RUMI
3 comments:
I stumbled upon your blog post and video 8 or 9 years after being led to it by your comment on ReflectionsOfBeauty. I'm a big fan of Rumi, and Coleman Barks translations, and this one blew me away (how had I not heard it before). Thank you for this asynchronous synchronicity. I too feel myself thinking about this all day; though I'm not sure the word "thinking" here is accurate. It's deeper than that. More embodied. More profound than the random thoughts that constantly bubble up from my mind. It's as if evolution needs the mind's chaos to move forward ... to evolve.
For some reason I like the line about a bird from another continent sitting in an aviary far from home and far from birds of his land
Thank you for your disembodied, outstretched hand to pull me out of the quagmire of daily life. It's been a while, and the world stills spins, though li'l ole' me feels a tad closer to its center point. In Hawaii we have such birds -- White-Rumped Shamas -- that used to be locked in aviary cages as garden songbirds from , but then released into the wild and have now become our permanent visitors. Ah, Rumi and Shams and Coleman too, such a powerful elixir to discover our quintessential nature, the truth of our being underneath our conditioned selves. May it become a permanent fragrance.
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