What do you think?
Rate this book
The Forbidden Rumi: The Suppressed Poems of Rumi on Love, Heresy, and Intoxication
When Nevit Ergin decided to translate Rumi’s Divan into English, he enlisted the help of the Turkish government. They were supportive at first but refused to participate in the publication of the final volume due to its openly heretical nature. Will Johnson and Nevit Ergin present here for the first time in English Rumi’s poems from this forbidden volume.
176 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 14, 2006
About the author
Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
1,148 books16.1k followersSufism inspired writings of Persian poet and mystic Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi; these writings express the longing of the soul for union with the divine.
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī - also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī, Mevlânâ/Mawlānā (مولانا, "our master"), Mevlevî/Mawlawī (مولوی, "my master") and more popularly simply as Rumi - was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian and Sufi mystic who lived in Konya, a city of Ottoman Empire (Today's Turkey). His poems have been widely translated into many of the world's languages, and he has been described as the most popular poet and the best-selling poet in the United States.
His poetry has influenced Persian literature, but also Turkish, Ottoman Turkish, Azerbaijani, Punjabi, Hindi, and Urdu, as well as the literature of some other Turkic, Iranian, and Indo-Aryan languages including Chagatai, Pashto, and Bengali.
Due to quarrels between different dynasties in Khorāṣān, opposition to the Khwarizmid Shahs who were considered devious by his father, Bahā ud-Dīn Wālad or fear of the impending Mongol cataclysm, his father decided to migrate westwards, eventually settling in the Anatolian city Konya, where he lived most of his life, composed one of the crowning glories of Persian literature, and profoundly affected the culture of the area.
When his father died, Rumi, aged 25, inherited his position as the head of an Islamic school. One of Baha' ud-Din's students, Sayyed Burhan ud-Din Muhaqqiq Termazi, continued to train Rumi in the Shariah as well as the Tariqa, especially that of Rumi's father. For nine years, Rumi practised Sufism as a disciple of Burhan ud-Din until the latter died in 1240 or 1241. Rumi's public life then began: he became an Islamic Jurist, issuing fatwas and giving sermons in the mosques of Konya. He also served as a Molvi (Islamic teacher) and taught his adherents in the madrassa. During this period, Rumi also travelled to Damascus and is said to have spent four years there.
It was his meeting with the dervish Shams-e Tabrizi on 15 November 1244 that completely changed his life. From an accomplished teacher and jurist, Rumi was transformed into an ascetic.
On the night of 5 December 1248, as Rumi and Shams were talking, Shams was called to the back door. He went out, never to be seen again. Rumi's love for, and his bereavement at the death of, Shams found their expression in an outpouring of lyric poems, Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi. He himself went out searching for Shams and journeyed again to Damascus.
Rumi found another companion in Salaḥ ud-Din-e Zarkub, a goldsmith. After Salah ud-Din's death, Rumi's scribe and favourite student, Hussam-e Chalabi, assumed the role of Rumi's companion. Hussam implored Rumi to write more. Rumi spent the next 12 years of his life in Anatolia dictating the six volumes of this masterwork, the Masnavi, to Hussam.
In December 1273, Rumi fell ill and died on the 17th of December in Konya.
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī - also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī, Mevlânâ/Mawlānā (مولانا, "our master"), Mevlevî/Mawlawī (مولوی, "my master") and more popularly simply as Rumi - was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian and Sufi mystic who lived in Konya, a city of Ottoman Empire (Today's Turkey). His poems have been widely translated into many of the world's languages, and he has been described as the most popular poet and the best-selling poet in the United States.
His poetry has influenced Persian literature, but also Turkish, Ottoman Turkish, Azerbaijani, Punjabi, Hindi, and Urdu, as well as the literature of some other Turkic, Iranian, and Indo-Aryan languages including Chagatai, Pashto, and Bengali.
Due to quarrels between different dynasties in Khorāṣān, opposition to the Khwarizmid Shahs who were considered devious by his father, Bahā ud-Dīn Wālad or fear of the impending Mongol cataclysm, his father decided to migrate westwards, eventually settling in the Anatolian city Konya, where he lived most of his life, composed one of the crowning glories of Persian literature, and profoundly affected the culture of the area.
When his father died, Rumi, aged 25, inherited his position as the head of an Islamic school. One of Baha' ud-Din's students, Sayyed Burhan ud-Din Muhaqqiq Termazi, continued to train Rumi in the Shariah as well as the Tariqa, especially that of Rumi's father. For nine years, Rumi practised Sufism as a disciple of Burhan ud-Din until the latter died in 1240 or 1241. Rumi's public life then began: he became an Islamic Jurist, issuing fatwas and giving sermons in the mosques of Konya. He also served as a Molvi (Islamic teacher) and taught his adherents in the madrassa. During this period, Rumi also travelled to Damascus and is said to have spent four years there.
It was his meeting with the dervish Shams-e Tabrizi on 15 November 1244 that completely changed his life. From an accomplished teacher and jurist, Rumi was transformed into an ascetic.
On the night of 5 December 1248, as Rumi and Shams were talking, Shams was called to the back door. He went out, never to be seen again. Rumi's love for, and his bereavement at the death of, Shams found their expression in an outpouring of lyric poems, Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi. He himself went out searching for Shams and journeyed again to Damascus.
Rumi found another companion in Salaḥ ud-Din-e Zarkub, a goldsmith. After Salah ud-Din's death, Rumi's scribe and favourite student, Hussam-e Chalabi, assumed the role of Rumi's companion. Hussam implored Rumi to write more. Rumi spent the next 12 years of his life in Anatolia dictating the six volumes of this masterwork, the Masnavi, to Hussam.
In December 1273, Rumi fell ill and died on the 17th of December in Konya.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews
April 25, 2010
Can we actually rate Rumi's books ?
January 21, 2016
What's happened to the newly weds?
What shape are they in now?
If you understand this,
You won't have to participate in this world's games.
The world put hundreds of thousands
of intellectuals into the sack.
Where is the truly intelligent one
who's managed to stay outside the sack?
What shape are they in now?
If you understand this,
You won't have to participate in this world's games.
The world put hundreds of thousands
of intellectuals into the sack.
Where is the truly intelligent one
who's managed to stay outside the sack?
August 18, 2007
All this time I have been more inclined to prose than poetry. Simply because prose seems to lay everything on the table. No hidden corners, or time bombs waiting to explode as much as in poetry, especially considering its relatively compact forms.
But when it does explode, it takes you to the highest elevation. To ecstasy! I must admit, it feels gooood! It fulfils more than just intellectual satisfaction.
Poetry plays with metaphors. Poetry doesn't have to obey common modes of reasoning. Reason! That is exactly what Rumi wants us to abandon. "Reason cannot stop your tears".
Lastly, poetry provides more work to do to readers. Maybe I have been just lazy all along hehehe...
Hmm.. probably I should read more poetry. More Rumi too.
But when it does explode, it takes you to the highest elevation. To ecstasy! I must admit, it feels gooood! It fulfils more than just intellectual satisfaction.
Poetry plays with metaphors. Poetry doesn't have to obey common modes of reasoning. Reason! That is exactly what Rumi wants us to abandon. "Reason cannot stop your tears".
Lastly, poetry provides more work to do to readers. Maybe I have been just lazy all along hehehe...
Hmm.. probably I should read more poetry. More Rumi too.
Did Not Finish
January 1, 2011I read a sample. Going to abandoned. I love Rumi, but based on the introduction, there seems to be an emphasis in this translation on the negativity of orthodox and organized religion, which is not an emphasis I care for. Certainly Rumi went beyond orthodoxy and organized religion, but he went through it first. This sort of emphasis on the positives of "heresy" and the negatives of "organized" religion tends to encourage people to put the cart before the horse. So I'll look for another Rumi collection - there are plenty.
May 20, 2010
Excellent translations of Rumi's superb poetry from someone who has spent a lifetime studying and interpreting the great Sufi poet's works for the international community. Even those already familiar with the wonderful "versions" of Jalaluddin Rumi's poetry by masterful poet/teachers like Coleman Barks and Jonathan Starr will discover in this "Forbidden" volume aspects of Rumi's spiritual passion and intellectual brilliance rarely glimpsed.
Aberjhani
Aberjhani
September 16, 2014
This is Volume 21 of the Divan-kabir of Jalaluddin Rumi. It contains the poems of the great Sufi which conservatives think that he has crossed the line into heresy . But the poems are his ultimate quest in his way in self-annihilation and Godly revelations ...
After translating some poems, I decided not to post or publish them ...
After translating some poems, I decided not to post or publish them ...
June 24, 2011
Don’t go home.
Stay with me tonight.
Little by little, slowly but surely,
my breath will lead you
to insanity.
You’ll be freed from the mind.
Then suddenly you’ll go crazy.
Stay with me tonight.
Little by little, slowly but surely,
my breath will lead you
to insanity.
You’ll be freed from the mind.
Then suddenly you’ll go crazy.
April 9, 2011
fikiran terbatas, tapi dia yang kumpulkan semua fikiran itu tak terbatas,
biarlah yang terbatas lenyap ke dalam yang tak terbatas,
lalat sukma telah jatuh ke dalam susu mentega selamanya,
muslim,kristen,yahudi,zoroaster semua diterima di sini
kau terus bicara tapi kata-katamu seperti sayap lalat yang bergetar
tapi begitu lalat tenggelam sampai dasar,
sayapnya tak bergetar lagi
biarlah yang terbatas lenyap ke dalam yang tak terbatas,
lalat sukma telah jatuh ke dalam susu mentega selamanya,
muslim,kristen,yahudi,zoroaster semua diterima di sini
kau terus bicara tapi kata-katamu seperti sayap lalat yang bergetar
tapi begitu lalat tenggelam sampai dasar,
sayapnya tak bergetar lagi
April 9, 2023
15
I was dead, but came back to life.
I was the cry, but I became the smile.
Love came and turned me
into everlasting glory.
16
And so he said to me, "O old love of mine,
don't ever get out from under my arm."
And I said, "Yes," and I stayed there.
28
Since seeing his face,
I can't look at other people.
One glance from him and I become drunk.
I've turned my body into wax
to receive the seal of Solomon.
In order to soften the wax,
I rub and knead it with my hands.
I threw away my false measures
after seeing him.
I became his flute and started crying
when his lips touched me.
30. How happy a time it is
when we sit on the porch,
two bodies, two forms,
but our souls as one.
When I'm with you in the garden,
our joy mixes with the birds' songs.
Stars come out to watch us.
We show our moon faces back to them.
Let's not pay attention
to any confusing superstitions.
Let's just sit down together with joy,
no you, no me.
33.
Separation bends the straight arrow
of the back into a bow.
Tears become bloody;
the heart naked and exposed.
37
After seeing him,
my body turned to soul.
39
Give up yourself. Sit in front of me.
Make me also give up myself
so that I no longer see things as
large or small
I am a pawn on a chessboard.
I don't need a horse to ride.
I am checkmated by you.
Put your cheek next to mine.
43
My beloved caressed me yesterday
and let me,
who had tasted nothing but sorrow
taste his soul.
He gave wisdom to my mind
and put an earring in my ear.
He gave light to my eyes
and brought sweetness to my taste.
47
You are my garden, full of blessings.
You are my resplendent rose sapling.
No one has ever seen such a springtime as you,
O beautiful, and such a thing will never be seen.
You turn my body to dust,
then purify my dust and resurrect me.
You are my moonfaced beauty,
O beautiful.
49
You're beyond needing
our praise and thanks.
But by praising you, we praise ourselves,
and that's the reason you want us to praise
and thank you.
50
This time I asked the heart:
"O heart, what kind of moon is that?"
He called back to me:
"This is not something
that you can understand with your mind.
So don't say a word."
54
The faithful are afraid of being separated from
their faith in their last few breaths.
My only fear is to be separated from you.
Don't go.
Don't go.
But if you must, then take my soul with you.
62
Don't shake your head like that, my sultan.
Don't put on your turban.
Don't go.
O moon, whose eyes and face are so beautiful.
Don't go away.
Who in this world
has clear eyes and a pure heart?
Don't die.
Don't hurt me.
Don't run off to strangers.
Don't leave the friend,
and don't burn our house of secrets to the ground.
Don't leave the rose garden
and run after every thorn.
6
In fact, the blood of lovers never dries.
It always stays fresh.
If the blood is new,
it is easy to find to whom it belongs.
All blood gets old,
becomes dark and dries up,
except for the blood of lovers.
It keeps flowing from the heart
and remains fresh to the end.
68
I was buried and rotting
in the grave of myself.
When you came to visit me,
I raised my head and
climbed out of my tomb.
You are the trumpet
that is blown on my last day of judgement.
What can I do? Dead or alive,
wherever you are, I am there.
I am like a lifeless piece of reed,
ever silent when your lips are not around.
But if you play me like a reed flute,
your breath turns me into divine melodies.
I bind my head if I can't see you.
I bite my hands if I can't find your sweet lips.
77
O young fool,
how long will you keep running away
from yourself?
In the end,
the thing will happen anyway.
Just go in the direction
where there is no direction.
Go, search there.
78
O one who has gotten lost in himself,
you're not aware that your life has become a grave.
In fact, you are buried in the grave of yourself.
81
Because of the beloved
my heart is happy,
my soul illuminated.
From the beloved's greenery
hundred of blessed rivers
are flowing to the rose gardens.
In order to enter into your rose garden,
the soul makes peace with the thorns.
Choose love. Choose love.
Without this beautiful love,
life is nothing but a burden.
82
The wave comes from the sea,
then watches and bows down to itself.
"O, ocean, essence of my existence," wave says,
"How did you turn into so many waves?"
All souls are one.
All existence is but the reflection of the Sultan.
85
Don't go off sightseeing.
The real journey is right here.
The great excursion starts
from exactly where you are.
You are the world.
You have everything you need.
You are the seccret.
You are the wide opened.
Don't look for the remedy for your troubles
outside yourself.
You are the medicine.
You are the cure for your own sorrow.
95
Don't lower yourself.
Don't knock on every door.
You yourself are what you're looking for.
99
If a thought comes into your mind,
think also its opposite,
for either one may come true.
Hesitating between two ideas may confuse you.
Opposing views may lead you to truth.
See the end of the road
while you are still ahead of the thought.
How long will you waste time with words?
102
How long will you keep on crying,
"Where's my remedy?
Where's my cure?
Whoever it is that's making you search for a remedy,
go look for him.
How long will you stay mired in sadness, complaining,
"Sorrow has taken my soul away?"
What is the soul?
Why don't you try to find it?
Did you smell a loaf of bread?
Go toward that smell.
That smell will tell you everything
you need to know about bread.
If you fall in love,
your love is your proof
and that's enough.
If you're not in love,
what good is proof?
106
The story of the union and separation
of light and shadow never ends
Light is the creator of every reason
that exists in his shadows.
God made "no reason" as
the ultimate reason for everything.
113
Be silent, O body.
Let my heart talk.
There is neither "I" nor "we" in the language of the heart.
115
You've eaten all kinds of foods,
some sweet, others salty.
You've tasted all the pleasures of life.
Just once, come to Love.
Let him become your host.
116
The broken heart is where God looks.
How lucky is the soul that mends the heart!
For God, consoling the heart
that is broken into hundreds of pieces
is better than going on pilgrimage.
God's treasures are buried in ruined hearts.
120
The only reason you can't give yo your desires
is that you're lazy.
Since you are the problem,
it will follow you
where you go.
132
O lovers,
remove the garment of self-consciousness.
Annihilate yourself while gazing
at the face of Immortal Beauty.
141
The one who gets lost in thought
is looking for a cure for his illness,
but thoughts themselves are the cause of his illness.
Reflection causes confusion.
Don't be a man of thought.
Stay pure and clean.
Become a man of joy and ecstasy instead.
Reason is a monster on this road.
O my soul,
get crazy, and go insane.
Why are you so reasonable?
The silkworm has many thoughts
and wants to parade his knowledge.
He does so by creating a cocoon
and kills himself in his confused ideas.
Be careful. Don't talk too much.
Stay silent.
You are not alone,
even so, try to stay silent.
146
This is the whole fortune.
This is the whole glory.
This is the pleasure.
This is the life.
There can be no trading, no gain
beside this love.
149
You are wrapped up in the self from head to tail.
What are you looking for in yourself?
You're like water in the jug,
encased in earthenware.
Embark on the journey of love.
It takes you from yourself to Yourself.
And cut the story short, my friend.
156
Come, O sweet-lipped beauty.
Drink this haram wine
if you have the nerve.
If you have a heart like the sea,
pick up the wine that reveals
what being human is really about.
I came back to you
because I could find the kind and decent things
I found in you anywhere else.
159
Islam and the other faiths
have all come around so recently,
yet Love has no beginning or end.
You can't call the unbeliever an infidel
if he's been the latest victim of Love.
163
I haven't acquired my faith
in the power of the soul's beauty
through idle chatter.
I became his believer
only after I became my own infidel.
How long are you going to go on praising him?
He is beyond praise.
Enough. Be silent.
I go to my ecstasy.
I was dead, but came back to life.
I was the cry, but I became the smile.
Love came and turned me
into everlasting glory.
16
And so he said to me, "O old love of mine,
don't ever get out from under my arm."
And I said, "Yes," and I stayed there.
28
Since seeing his face,
I can't look at other people.
One glance from him and I become drunk.
I've turned my body into wax
to receive the seal of Solomon.
In order to soften the wax,
I rub and knead it with my hands.
I threw away my false measures
after seeing him.
I became his flute and started crying
when his lips touched me.
30. How happy a time it is
when we sit on the porch,
two bodies, two forms,
but our souls as one.
When I'm with you in the garden,
our joy mixes with the birds' songs.
Stars come out to watch us.
We show our moon faces back to them.
Let's not pay attention
to any confusing superstitions.
Let's just sit down together with joy,
no you, no me.
33.
Separation bends the straight arrow
of the back into a bow.
Tears become bloody;
the heart naked and exposed.
37
After seeing him,
my body turned to soul.
39
Give up yourself. Sit in front of me.
Make me also give up myself
so that I no longer see things as
large or small
I am a pawn on a chessboard.
I don't need a horse to ride.
I am checkmated by you.
Put your cheek next to mine.
43
My beloved caressed me yesterday
and let me,
who had tasted nothing but sorrow
taste his soul.
He gave wisdom to my mind
and put an earring in my ear.
He gave light to my eyes
and brought sweetness to my taste.
47
You are my garden, full of blessings.
You are my resplendent rose sapling.
No one has ever seen such a springtime as you,
O beautiful, and such a thing will never be seen.
You turn my body to dust,
then purify my dust and resurrect me.
You are my moonfaced beauty,
O beautiful.
49
You're beyond needing
our praise and thanks.
But by praising you, we praise ourselves,
and that's the reason you want us to praise
and thank you.
50
This time I asked the heart:
"O heart, what kind of moon is that?"
He called back to me:
"This is not something
that you can understand with your mind.
So don't say a word."
54
The faithful are afraid of being separated from
their faith in their last few breaths.
My only fear is to be separated from you.
Don't go.
Don't go.
But if you must, then take my soul with you.
62
Don't shake your head like that, my sultan.
Don't put on your turban.
Don't go.
O moon, whose eyes and face are so beautiful.
Don't go away.
Who in this world
has clear eyes and a pure heart?
Don't die.
Don't hurt me.
Don't run off to strangers.
Don't leave the friend,
and don't burn our house of secrets to the ground.
Don't leave the rose garden
and run after every thorn.
6
In fact, the blood of lovers never dries.
It always stays fresh.
If the blood is new,
it is easy to find to whom it belongs.
All blood gets old,
becomes dark and dries up,
except for the blood of lovers.
It keeps flowing from the heart
and remains fresh to the end.
68
I was buried and rotting
in the grave of myself.
When you came to visit me,
I raised my head and
climbed out of my tomb.
You are the trumpet
that is blown on my last day of judgement.
What can I do? Dead or alive,
wherever you are, I am there.
I am like a lifeless piece of reed,
ever silent when your lips are not around.
But if you play me like a reed flute,
your breath turns me into divine melodies.
I bind my head if I can't see you.
I bite my hands if I can't find your sweet lips.
77
O young fool,
how long will you keep running away
from yourself?
In the end,
the thing will happen anyway.
Just go in the direction
where there is no direction.
Go, search there.
78
O one who has gotten lost in himself,
you're not aware that your life has become a grave.
In fact, you are buried in the grave of yourself.
81
Because of the beloved
my heart is happy,
my soul illuminated.
From the beloved's greenery
hundred of blessed rivers
are flowing to the rose gardens.
In order to enter into your rose garden,
the soul makes peace with the thorns.
Choose love. Choose love.
Without this beautiful love,
life is nothing but a burden.
82
The wave comes from the sea,
then watches and bows down to itself.
"O, ocean, essence of my existence," wave says,
"How did you turn into so many waves?"
All souls are one.
All existence is but the reflection of the Sultan.
85
Don't go off sightseeing.
The real journey is right here.
The great excursion starts
from exactly where you are.
You are the world.
You have everything you need.
You are the seccret.
You are the wide opened.
Don't look for the remedy for your troubles
outside yourself.
You are the medicine.
You are the cure for your own sorrow.
95
Don't lower yourself.
Don't knock on every door.
You yourself are what you're looking for.
99
If a thought comes into your mind,
think also its opposite,
for either one may come true.
Hesitating between two ideas may confuse you.
Opposing views may lead you to truth.
See the end of the road
while you are still ahead of the thought.
How long will you waste time with words?
102
How long will you keep on crying,
"Where's my remedy?
Where's my cure?
Whoever it is that's making you search for a remedy,
go look for him.
How long will you stay mired in sadness, complaining,
"Sorrow has taken my soul away?"
What is the soul?
Why don't you try to find it?
Did you smell a loaf of bread?
Go toward that smell.
That smell will tell you everything
you need to know about bread.
If you fall in love,
your love is your proof
and that's enough.
If you're not in love,
what good is proof?
106
The story of the union and separation
of light and shadow never ends
Light is the creator of every reason
that exists in his shadows.
God made "no reason" as
the ultimate reason for everything.
113
Be silent, O body.
Let my heart talk.
There is neither "I" nor "we" in the language of the heart.
115
You've eaten all kinds of foods,
some sweet, others salty.
You've tasted all the pleasures of life.
Just once, come to Love.
Let him become your host.
116
The broken heart is where God looks.
How lucky is the soul that mends the heart!
For God, consoling the heart
that is broken into hundreds of pieces
is better than going on pilgrimage.
God's treasures are buried in ruined hearts.
120
The only reason you can't give yo your desires
is that you're lazy.
Since you are the problem,
it will follow you
where you go.
132
O lovers,
remove the garment of self-consciousness.
Annihilate yourself while gazing
at the face of Immortal Beauty.
141
The one who gets lost in thought
is looking for a cure for his illness,
but thoughts themselves are the cause of his illness.
Reflection causes confusion.
Don't be a man of thought.
Stay pure and clean.
Become a man of joy and ecstasy instead.
Reason is a monster on this road.
O my soul,
get crazy, and go insane.
Why are you so reasonable?
The silkworm has many thoughts
and wants to parade his knowledge.
He does so by creating a cocoon
and kills himself in his confused ideas.
Be careful. Don't talk too much.
Stay silent.
You are not alone,
even so, try to stay silent.
146
This is the whole fortune.
This is the whole glory.
This is the pleasure.
This is the life.
There can be no trading, no gain
beside this love.
149
You are wrapped up in the self from head to tail.
What are you looking for in yourself?
You're like water in the jug,
encased in earthenware.
Embark on the journey of love.
It takes you from yourself to Yourself.
And cut the story short, my friend.
156
Come, O sweet-lipped beauty.
Drink this haram wine
if you have the nerve.
If you have a heart like the sea,
pick up the wine that reveals
what being human is really about.
I came back to you
because I could find the kind and decent things
I found in you anywhere else.
159
Islam and the other faiths
have all come around so recently,
yet Love has no beginning or end.
You can't call the unbeliever an infidel
if he's been the latest victim of Love.
163
I haven't acquired my faith
in the power of the soul's beauty
through idle chatter.
I became his believer
only after I became my own infidel.
How long are you going to go on praising him?
He is beyond praise.
Enough. Be silent.
I go to my ecstasy.
January 28, 2020
His books are so easy to read yet deep to understand. Each line says volumes. Its true that we can connect to some poems and yet others seem so indifferent. The one thing which truly fascinates me in any poet is the timeless character of their writing. It was true then, it is true now. Loved it! Its never about reading, its about experiencing each emotion he sings to.
Read
October 13, 2009Coleman Barks' translations are sublime - but so are Nevit Ergin's. After publishing the rest of Ergin's lifework translations of Rumi, the Trukish government refused to publish these last, lesser known poems. Wonderful.
November 26, 2010
Here is a great collection of poems translated by Nevit Ergin. My favourite book is still "The year with Rumi" translated by Coleman Barks but I found some absolutely beautiful poems in this new collection. "... There's a universe called Absence. It waves break on the shore of Existence..."
January 28, 2009
interesting selection of poems, but all in all I don't think these are very good translations compared to other Rumi translations I've read.
November 23, 2012
absolutely beautiful translations. sectioned into various types of forbidden themes.. a pure joy to read.
January 13, 2013
Absolutly adore Rumi's poetry.
February 22, 2014
Nevit Ergin does a great translation of Rumi. Great book of different Ghazzhals of Rumi.
Read
June 20, 2014Rumi quotes look good on an inspirational poster, but I couldn't get into his poetry at all.
September 25, 2026
You, like a dirty orientalist, stripped the Islam out of Rumi.
These poems are not heretical according to the internal understanding of the Mawlawis and Sufis generally. They are perfectly Islamic.
"Rumi may have entered into retreat with Shams as a kind of (...) move beyond their
rigid adherence to the outward forms ofreligion, and enter instead into a direct experience of God." Rumi clearly said in his Mathnawi that the Shari'a is the candle that lights the tariqa (path) toward Haqiqa (Reality).
Your language keeps implying he is some perennial 21st century Californian self-help guru not a 13th century Muslim, master of Hanafi law, Arabic grammar, Persian poetry, Usul, Ikhtilaf and a Sufi master; a master of the exoteric and esoteric sciences of Islam.
These poems are not heretical according to the internal understanding of the Mawlawis and Sufis generally. They are perfectly Islamic.
"Rumi may have entered into retreat with Shams as a kind of (...) move beyond their
rigid adherence to the outward forms ofreligion, and enter instead into a direct experience of God." Rumi clearly said in his Mathnawi that the Shari'a is the candle that lights the tariqa (path) toward Haqiqa (Reality).
Your language keeps implying he is some perennial 21st century Californian self-help guru not a 13th century Muslim, master of Hanafi law, Arabic grammar, Persian poetry, Usul, Ikhtilaf and a Sufi master; a master of the exoteric and esoteric sciences of Islam.
February 3, 2023
The Suppressed Poems of Rumi on Love, Hersey, and Intoxication is a collection of Rumi poems related to topics such as love, sin, and intoxication. The poems provide insight into Rumi's complex relationship with love and show his fascination with the supernatural that occurs when people break social rules. The poems also support his theories that love is the highest form of spiritual awakening. With ease he beautifully distributes these poems, and he easy came to be a personal favorite.
August 14, 2020
A remedy for an aching heart.
"Anyone can see the moon's face from a distance. How lucky is the one who takes the moon hostage."
"Who can find a trace of you?
There isn't even a bit of dust from your track.
Who could find your home?
You have no home."
"Anyone can see the moon's face from a distance. How lucky is the one who takes the moon hostage."
"Who can find a trace of you?
There isn't even a bit of dust from your track.
Who could find your home?
You have no home."
June 13, 2017
I really enjoyed these poems
October 6, 2019
Nectar for the Soul.
November 7, 2019
Strange yet deep.
September 17, 2020
It was a pleasure to translate this book back to Turkish!
January 24, 2022
Well, I remember really enjoying Rumi so I was excited to grab this one. I really really enjoyed the translator's introductions, not so much the rest of it.
April 27, 2022
3⭐
I liked it, especially the second part of the poem.
I liked it, especially the second part of the poem.
November 13, 2024
Rumi O, Rumi
Read
May 28, 2019A bit "deep" for me. I may try again later.
Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews