May I let my voice be a clarion call. I will use these words for justice. I will use these words for truth. And humour.

Thursday, October 6, 2005


Classical Cento composed from the Works of Rumi

How are you,
O stranger from the highest heaven?
Are you better?

Without awareness of head or feet
drunk with spiritual ecstacy.

Hell ate a mouthful, and consumed an entire world, with its stomach shouting, “No! Are there any more?”
A dragon which doesn't become
decreased and diminished of its fire
by oceans.
No place for patience, no way of escape,
no hope for repentance, and nowhere to fight.
O head lacking understanding!
O chest lacking light!
Satan is terrifying you through the threat of severe poverty.
Truly, no one despairs
of the Comforting Mercy of God
except the rejectors.

Sadness and anguish – separation from spiritual kings is never less than that.
O weak ant, what strength do you have for enduring
such a tall mountain which He might place upon you?
A heart is needed which is full
of love and pain and sadness.

Become the friend of penetrating vision,
not the child of reasoning and supposition.
Keep imagining that the treasure
may be in every person.
The scent of commonality is for
winning the heart.

Making the claim of love is easy,
but there must be proof of it.
Give a loan to God.
I'm dragging and pulling
a people by force
from the blazing furnace
and chimney, filled with
the black smoke of Hell --
toward Paradise,
the Angel who Guards the Heavenly Gates,
and the Everlasting Garden.
So laughter takes hold of me.

How is the one with disturbed sleep
when the light of the sun
arrives to his mouth?
Scattering his own soul
as a reward to the messenger.
Keep the sun of your intelligence burning
and keep your eyes shining
with tears like the clouds.
I am day,
since I am shining into the world.

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