Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Rumi ♡ Whirling


Sema is the food of the lovers of God,
for within it is the taste of tranquility of mind.
Dance when you're broken open.
Dance when you've torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance when you're perfectly free.
Struck, the dancer hears a tambourine inside her,
like a wave that crests into foam at the very top, begins.
Maybe you don't hear that tambourine, or the tree leaves clapping time.
Close the ears on your head that listen mostly to lies and cynical jokes.
There are other things to see, and hear.
Music. Dance. A brilliant city inside your soul!
O Lover of God, when you start whirling you leave the two worlds.
This world of whirling is out of the two worlds.
The ceiling of the seventh heaven is at considerable height.
But the ladder of whirling reaches and exceeds this ceiling.
Those who know the secret power of the whirling, live in God:
Love is slaying and reviving
Them - they know it . . . .
This is a gathering of Lovers.
In this gathering there is no high, no low, no smart,
no ignorant, no special assembly, no grand discourse,
no proper schooling required


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