back on that Rumi kick…

by Emily

these are all Rumi’s works, translated by Coleman Barker

The way of love is not
a subtle argument.

The door there
is devastation.

Birds make great sky-circles
of their freedom.

How do they learn that?
They fall, and falling,
they’re given wings.

 

There’s a strange frenzy in my head,
of birds flying,
each particle circulating on it’s own.
Is the one I love everywhere?

 

you dance inside my chest
where no one can see you,

but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.

 

Are you jealous of the ocean’s generosity?
Why would you refuse to give
this love to anyone?

Fish don’t hold the sacred liquid in cups!
They swim the hue fluid freedom.

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