Rumi, fully Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rumi

Rumi, fully Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rumi
1207
1273

Persian Poet, Jurist, Theologian and Sufi Mystic, Known as “Rumi” meaning “the Roman”

Author Quotes

We rarely hear the inward music, but we're all dancing to it nevertheless.

What you seek is seeking you.

When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks.

Without cause God gave us Being; without cause, give it back again.

The ground's generosity takes in our compost and grows beauty! Try to be more like the ground.

The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.

The soul which cannot endure fire and smoke won't find the Secret.

The world is a mountain, in which your words are echoed back to you.

There is a secret medicine given only to those who hurt so hard they can't hope. The hopers would feel slighted if they knew.

These pains you feel are messengers. Listen to them.

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First, to let go of life. In the end, to take a step without feet; to regard this world as invisible, and to disregard what appears to be the self. Heart, I said, what a gift it has been to enter this circle of lovers, to see beyond seeing itself, to reach and feel within the breast.

To change, a person must face the dragon of his appetites with another dragon, the life-energy of the soul.

Until you've found pain, you won't reach the cure. Until you've given up life, you won't unite with the supreme soul. Until you've found fire inside yourself, like the friend, You won't reach the spring of life..

We search for Him here and there while looking right at Him. Sitting by His side we ask, O Beloved, where is the Beloved? Enough with such questions! – Let silence take you to the core of life. All your talk is worthless when compared to one whisper of the Beloved.

Whatever possessions and objects of its desires the lower self may obtain, it hangs on to them, refusing to let them go out of greed for more, or out of fear of poverty and need.

When you feel a peaceful joy, that's when you are near truth.

Who says words with my mouth? All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there. This drunkenness began in some other tavern. When I get back around to that place, I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile, I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary. The day is coming when I fly off, but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? Who says words with my mouth? Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks. I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way. Whoever brought me here will have to take me home. This poetry, I never know what I'm going to say. I don't plan it. When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

Without you the instruments would die. One sits close beside you. Another takes a long kiss. The tambourine begs; touch my skin so I can be myself. Let me feel you enter each limb bone by bone, that what died last night can be whole today. Why live some soberer way, and feel you ebbing out? I won't do it. Either give me enough wine or leave me alone, now that I know how it is to be with you in constant conversation.

The heart has its own language. The heart knows a hundred thousand ways to speak.

The moon stays bright when it doesn't avoid the night.

The soul: a wide listening sky with thousands of candles.

The world is a prison and we are the prisoners; dig a hole in the prison and let yourself out!

There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled. You feel it, don't you? You feel the separation from the Beloved. Invite Him to fill you up, embrace the fire.

They are the chosen ones who have surrendered. Once they were particles of light now they are the radiant sun.

Author Picture
First Name
Rumi, fully Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rumi
Birth Date
1207
Death Date
1273
Bio

Persian Poet, Jurist, Theologian and Sufi Mystic, Known as “Rumi” meaning “the Roman”