Love Poems of Rumi

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Love is the Water of Life
A Moment of Happiness

Lovers

All Through Eternity

I Swear

Let Go of Your Worries

This is Love

Love is Reckless

I am a Sculptor a Molder of Form

Passion Makes Old Medicine New

The Beauty of The Heart

I am Only the House of Your Beloved

The Springtime of Lovers Has Come

The Intellectual is Always Showing Off

Love Has Nothing to Do With Five Senses

When the Rose is Gone and the Garden Faded

Because I Cannot Sleep

Ode 314

Those Who Don't Feel This Love

Last Night You Left Me And Slept

I Have Been Tricked by Flying Too Close

Who Is At My Door?

In The Arc Of Your MalletAdd Image


Love is the Water of Life

Everything other than love for the most beautiful God

though it be sugar- eating.

What is agony of the spirit?

To advance toward death without seizing

hold of the Water of Life.


A moment of Happiness


A moment of happiness,

you and I sitting on the verandah,

apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.

We feel the flowing water of life here,

you and I, with the garden's beauty

and the birds singing.

The stars will be watching us,

and we will show them

what it is to be a thin crescent moon.

You and I unselfed, will be together,

indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.

The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar

as we laugh together, you and I.

In one form upon this earth,

and in another form in a timeless sweet land.

Lovers

O lovers, lovers it is time
to set out from the world.
I hear a drum in my soul's ear
coming from the depths of the stars.

Our camel driver is at work;
the caravan is being readied.
He asks that we forgive him
for the disturbance he has caused us,
He asks why we travelers are asleep.

Everywhere the murmur of departure;
the stars, like candles
thrust at us from behind blue veils,
and as if to make the invisible plain,
a wondrous people have come forth.




This is love: to fly toward a secret sky,

to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.

First, to let go of live.

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.


The Divani Shamsi Tabriz, XIII