Each Note

Advice doesn’t help lovers!
They’re not the kind of mountain stream
you can build a dam across.

An intellectual doesn’t know
what the drunk is feeling!

Don’t try to figure
what those lost inside love
will do next!

Someone in charge would give up all his power,
if he caught one whiff of the wine-musk
from the room where the lovers
are doing who-knows-what!

One of them tries to dig a hole through a mountain.
One flees from academic honors.
One laughs at famous mustaches!

Life freezes if it doesn’t get a taste
of this almond cake.
The stars come up spinning
every night, bewildered in love.
They’d grow tired
with that revolving, if they weren’t.
They’d say,
“How long do we have to do this!”

God picks up the reed-flute world and blows.
Each note is a need coming through one of us,
a passion, a longing-pain.
Remember the lips
where the wind-breath originated,
and let your note be clear.
Don’t try to end it.
Be your note.
I’ll show you how it’s enough.

Go up on the roof at night
in this city of the soul.

Let everyone climb on their roofs
and sing their notes!

Sing loud!

– Rumi – version by Coleman Barks
// < ![CDATA[
// n "The Essential Rumi"u003cbr>n HarperSanFrancisco, 1995u003cbr>n u003cbr>n ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~u003cWBR>~~~~u003cbr>n u003cbr>n For lovers, advice (from) anyone is never useful, (because) thisu003cbr>n[love of theirs] is not like a flood which someone can block up.u003cbr>n An intellectual can never know the savor* (in) the mind of theu003cbr>n(mystic) "drunkard,"* (and) a sensible person can never know theu003cbr>n"senseless" state* of (such a) heart.u003cbr>n If kings were to catch a scent of those "wines" which lovers drinku003cbr>nduring the meetings of hearts, they would become fed-up withu003cbr>nkingship.u003cbr>n For the sake of (the beautiful) Sheereen, (King) Khosraw saidu003cbr>nfarewell to his kingdom, (and) Farhad* pounded a mountain with au003cbr>npick-ax for her sake as well.u003cbr>n From love of (his beloved) Layla, (the crazed lover) Majnoon*u003cbr>nfled the circle of intellectuals, (and the lover) Wamiq laughed at theu003cbr>nfoolish pride* of every arrogant one.u003cbr>n That life (is) frozen which has passed without that sweet spirit [ofu003cbr>nwarm love]. (And) that brain (is) rotten which is ignorant of theseu003cbr>ncompliments* (of love).u003cbr>n If the sky were not bewildered and a lover like us, it wouldu003cbr>nbecome weary of revolving, (and) it would say, "It's enough for me!u003cbr>nHow (much) longer?"u003cbr>n The world (is) like a reed-pipe, and He blows into its every hole;u003cbr>nevery wail it has (is) certainly from those two lips like sugar.u003cbr>n See how He blows into every (piece of) clay* (and) into everyu003cbr>nheart; He gives a need and He gives a love which raises up a lamentu003cbr>nabout misfortune.*u003cbr>n If you uproot the heart from God, tell (me) with whom will youu003cbr>nplace it? Anyone who is able to tear (his) heart from Him for au003cbr>nmoment is without a soul!*u003cbr>n I'm stopping (now). Be nimble, and go up on top of the roof atu003cbr>nnight. Make a happy uproar in the city with a loud voice, O soul!u003cbr>n u003cbr>n — From The Dîwân-é Kabîr (also known as "Kulliyat-é Shams" and”,1] );
// ]]>

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