They abandon the ego and find the truth and arrives at the Perfect.Īnd as a result, the seeker then returns from this spiritual journey, with greater maturity. Wherefore the journey, the seeker symbolically turns towards the truth. In the Mevlevi tradition, samāʿ represents a mystical journey of spiritual ascent through mind and love to the Perfect One. Rumi encouraged Sama, listening to music and turning or doing the sacred dance. As a result his teachings became the base for the order of the Mevlevi, which his son Sultan Walad organised. For Rumi, music helps devotees to focus their whole being on the divine and to do this so intensely that the soul is both destroyed and resurrected.Īlso, It is from these ideas that the practice of whirling Dervishes developed into a ritual form. Indeed, the moon embodies the three principles of poetry as put forth by Stevens in his poem Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction: (1) it must be abstract, as only the pure plasticity of a return to possibility can be abstract, the new moon as an immaculate beginning, the original source of the first idea (2) it must change, the. Rumi believed passionately in the use of music, poetry and dance as a path for reaching God. The general theme of Rumi’s thought, are like that of other mystic and Sufi poets of Persian literature, is that of tawhid - union with the Beloved, from whom he sees himself as being cut off and aloof. His poetry has influenced not only Persian literature, but also Turkish, Ottoman Turkish, Azerbaijani, as well as the literature of some other Turkic, Iranian, and Indo-Aryan languages including Chagatai, Urdu and Pashto. Accordingly his translations of his works are very popular, most notably are in Turkey, Azerbaijan, the United States, and South Asia.
His Masnavi (Mathnawi), composed in Konya, is considered one of the greatest poems of the Persian language.Īnd, His works are widely read today in their original language across Greater Iran and the Persian-speaking world. Rumi’s works are written mostly in Persian, but occasionally he also used Turkish, Arabic, and Greek, in his verse.
URDU POEM ABOUT ROSE AND MOON SKIN
Rumi’s influence transcends national borders and ethnic divisions: Iranians, Tajiks, Turks, Greeks, Pashtuns, other Central Asian Muslims, and the Muslims of South Asia greatly appreciate his spiritual legacy for the past seven centuries.
Also a Sufi mystic originally from Greater Khorasan. Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī and more popularly simply as Rumi (30 September 1207 – 17 December 1273), a 13th-century Persian Sunni Muslim poet, jurist, Islamic scholar and theologian. "Now get thee gone and come no more" Then Lisa fled in tears,She took the downward path towards home,His hard words in her ears. And it was Kastler, the little brown dwarf, Who stood in Lisa's way, And fast she would have fled from him,But "Soft" he bade her, "Stay" "I've heard yon bad man's words" said he "Go to thy mother dear,These herbs will take her ills away,This cheese last many a year."Then did he give her herbs and cheese,The little kind brown dwarf!He patted Lisa's cold blue cheek, And skipped off with a laugh. And it was Lisa, her little daughter,Mother Margaret saw come in Soon as she tasted of the herbsTo heal she did begin. And then good mother MargaretShe went to the cottage door,"Good lack," she cried, "thine uncle's fieldsOn the hill-side are no more."Naught's there but rubbish and blasted rock Where grass grew green anon !" And it was Kastler, the little brown dwarf,They fell a-thinking on.If you want the moon…. fair she said :"Come now, my child, and listen to me,Come stand beside my bed."No father thou, nor brother hast,Thine uncle is hard and cruel,Though he have wealth and we be poor,Nor bread he gives nor fuel."But go thou now and say to himThat I am nigh to death Make haste, my child, and soon return,For short am I of breath," And it was Lisa, her little daughter,Out in the snow she went,The cold stung like a living thing,Hungry was she and spent. And it was Lisa, her little daughter,That sought the mountain-path She found her uncle, the wicked man.Beside his blazing hearth.Then did she weep and pray to himThat to her mother now, Who lay so cold and near to death,Some kindness he would show. And it was her uncle, the cruel man,In wrath he rose and cried :"Sooner than give thee aught, my girl,I'd blast my own hill-side!
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