Guest guest Posted October 17, 2003 Report Share Posted October 17, 2003 A poem by Rumi: - Ghazal (Ode) 424 Translated by Azima Melita Kolin and Maryam Mafi Rumi: Hidden Music HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 2001 Shall I tell you our secret? We are charming thieves who steal hearts and never fail because we are the friends of the One. The time for old preaching is over we aim straight at the heart. If the mind tries to sneak in and take over we will string it up without delay. We turn poison into medicine and our sorrows into blessings. All that was familiar, our loved ones and ourselves we had to leave behind. Blessed is the poem that comes through me but not of me because the sound of my own music will drown the song of Love. Regards, John Plum Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted October 20, 2003 Report Share Posted October 20, 2003 ---Dear John ,thank you for so much posting the beautifu; poem by the great Rumi !There is no doubt that truth expressed poetically is more powerful than prose because it affects the feelings as well as the intellect.Poetic metaphora and analogies touch the subconscious ..All the Indian Scriptures are composed as poetry as were Raman's own compositions .Much of the poetic spirit is unfortunatel;y lost by prosaic scholarly translations often archaic .Let's have more poetry ..Regards and best wishes , in his grace,Alan chueewowee <chueewowee wrote: > A poem by Rumi: > > - Ghazal (Ode) 424 > Translated by Azima Melita Kolin > and Maryam Mafi > Rumi: Hidden Music > HarperCollins Publishers Ltd, 2001 > > > Shall I tell you our secret? > We are charming thieves who steal hearts > and never fail because we are > the friends of the One. > The time for old preaching is over > we aim straight at the heart. > If the mind tries to sneak in and take over > we will string it up without delay. > We turn poison into medicine > and our sorrows into blessings. > All that was familiar, > our loved ones and ourselves > we had to leave behind. > > Blessed is the poem that comes through me > but not of me because the sound of my own music > will drown the song of Love. > > > > Regards, > > John Plum ______________________ Want to chat instantly with your online friends? Get the FREE Messenger http://mail.messenger..co.uk Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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