A thousand half-loves
must be forsaken to take
one whole heart home.
— Rumi, “A thousand half-loves”, The Book of Love: Poems of Ecstasy and Longing. Harper One, 2003
All night, a man called “Allah”
Until his lips were bleeding.
Then the Devil said, “Hey! Mr Gullible!
How comes you’ve been calling all night
And never once heard Allah say, “Here, I am”?
You call out so earnestly and, in reply, what?
I’ll tell you what. Nothing!”
The man suddenly felt empty and abandoned.
Depressed, he threw himself on the ground
And fell into a deep sleep.
In a dream, he met Abraham, who asked,
“Why are you regretting praising Allah?”
The man said, “ I called and called
But Allah never replied, “Here I am.”
Abraham explained, “Allah has said,
“Your calling my name is My reply.
Your longing for Me is My message to you.
All your attempts to reach Me
Are in reality My attempts to reach you.
Your fear and love are a noose to catch Me.
In the silence surrounding every call of “Allah”
Waits a thousand replies of “Here I am.”
— Rumi (via momnaaaa)
At times I plunge
to the bottom of the sea,
at times, rise up
like the sun."
and became like blood in my body.
It rushed through my veins and
encircled my heart.
Everywhere I looked,
I saw one thing.
Love’s name written
on my limbs,
on my left palm,
on my forehead,
on the back of my neck,
on my right big toe…
Oh, my friend,
all that you see of me
is just a shell,
and the rest belongs to love."
Because it is the time and place that the course will divert."
Please note - this is downright obscene! It is nonetheless an important tale from Rumi’s work…
There was a maidservant
who had cleverly trained a donkey
to perform the services of a man.
From a gourd,
she had carved a flanged device
to fit on the donkey’s penis,
to keep him from going too far into her.
She had fashioned it just to the point
of her pleasure, and she greatly enjoyed
the arrangement, as often as she could!
She thrived, but the donkey was getting
a little thin and tired looking.
The mistress began to investigate. One day
she peeked through a crack in the door
and saw the animal’s marvelous member
and the delight of the girl
stretched under the donkey.
She said nothing. Later, she knocked on the door
and called the maid out on an errand,
a long and complicated errand.
I won’t go into details.
The servant knew what was happening, though.
“Ah, my mistress,” she thought to herself,
“you should not send away the expert.
When you begin to work without full knowledge,
you risk your life. Your shame keeps you
from asking me about the gourd, but you must
have that to join with this donkey.
There’s a trick you don’t know!”
But the woman was too fascinated with her idea
to consider any danger. She led the donkey in
and closed the door, thinking, “With no one around
I can shout in my pleasure.”
She was dizzy
with anticipation, her vagina glowing
and singing like a nightingale.
She arranged the chair under the donkey,
as she had seen the girl do. She raised her legs
and pulled him into her.
Her fire kindled more,
and the donkey politely pushed as she urged him to,
pushed through and into her intestines,
and, without a word, she died.
The chair fell one way,
and she the other.
The room was smeared with blood.
have you ever seen anyone martyred
for a donkey? Remember what the Qur’an
says about the torment of disgracing yourself.
Don’t sacrifice your life to your animal-soul!
If you die of what that leads you to do,
you are just like this woman on the floor.
She is an image of immoderation.
and keep your balance.
The maidservant returns and says, “Yes, you saw
my pleasure, but you didn’t see the gourd
that put a limit on it. You opened
your shop before a master
taught you the craft.”