Death came, smelled me, and sensed your fragrance instead.
From then on, death lost all hope of me.
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emrôz chô har rôz, kharâb-êm kharâb
Sad gôna namâz-ast-o rukû`-ast-o sujûdân-râ ke jamâl-é dôst bâsh-ad miHrâb—————————————– ——————————————Today, like every day, we are ruined, ruined (by ‘wine’).Don’t open the door of worry, but take up the lute!There are a hundred kinds of prayer, bowing, and prostration6For the one whose prayer-niche, is the beauty of the Beloved
This aloneness is worth more than a thousand lives.
To be one with the truth for just a moment,Is worth more than the world and life itself.
What Hidden Sweetness Is There
What hidden sweetness there is in this emptiness of the belly!Man is surely like a lute, no more and no less;For if, for instance, the belly of the lute becomes full, nolament high or low will arise from that full lute.If your brain and belly are on fire through fasting, because ofthe fire every moment…
The temple of love is not love itself;
Not the walls about it.Do not admire the decoration,But involve yourself in the essence,The perfume that invades and touches you-The beginning and the end.Discovered, this replace all else,The apparent and the unknowable.Time and space are slaves to this presence.
The Rubaiyat Of Rumi
Time bringeth swift to endThe rout men keep;Death’s wolf is nigh to rendThese silly sheep. See, how in pride they goWith lifted head,Till Fate with a sudden blowSmiteth them dead.2.Thou who lovest, life a crow,Winter’s chill and winter’s snow,Ever exiled from the vale’sRoses red, and nightingales: Take this moment to thy heart!When the moment shall…
One Whisper Of The Beloved
Lovers share a sacred decree –to seek the Beloved.They roll head over heels,rushing toward the Beautiful Onelike a torrent of water. In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved –Our seeking is His seeking,Our words are His words. At times we flow toward the Belovedlike a dancing stream.At times we are still waterheld in…