Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

[Rumi] (1207 - 1273 / Persia)

Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi Poems

1. Our Death Is Our Wedding With Eternity 8/3/2015
2. When Grapes Turn To Wine 9/7/2015
3. Ode 2039 10/26/2013
4. Ode 2357 10/26/2013
5. Ode 1823 10/26/2013
6. Love 10/26/2013
7. The Chance Of Humming 10/30/2013
8. Whoever Brought Me Here 10/30/2013
9. With Passion 10/30/2013
10. The Rubaiyat Of Rumi 10/30/2013
11. Light Up The Fire 10/26/2013
12. What Was Told, That 11/20/2014
13. My Burning Heart 10/26/2013
14. Ode 1620 10/26/2013
15. Ode 3079 10/26/2013
16. Love Makes 10/30/2013
17. Love Is The Cure 10/26/2013
18. Love And Imagination 10/30/2013
19. The Way Things Should 10/30/2013
20. This Is Love 10/30/2013
21. When The Rose Is Gone 10/30/2013
22. The Privileged Lovers 10/26/2013
23. The Temple Of Love 10/26/2013
24. The Agony And Ecstasy 10/26/2013
25. Let Me Be Mad 10/26/2013
26. One Swaying Being 10/26/2013
27. Ode 911 10/26/2013
28. That Lives In Us 10/30/2013
29. O Love 10/26/2013
30. When I Die 11/28/2014
31. Nowruz 3/16/2016
32. There Are A Hundred Kinds Of Prayer (Quatrain In Farsi With English Translation) 3/30/2010
33. Draw It Now From Eternity's Jar 10/26/2013
34. The Meaning Of Love 10/26/2013
35. Here I Am 10/30/2013
36. This Will Not Win Him 3/30/2010
37. The Springtime Of Lovers Has Come 3/30/2010
38. Ode 1957: An Intellectual 3/30/2010
39. Two Friends 3/30/2010
40. Ode 314 3/30/2010
Best Poem of Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

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.

Read the full of A Moment Of Happiness

If I Weep

If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears.
Every cruelty which he commits becomes him, every cruelty which he commits I endure.
If he accounts me nonexistent, I account his tyranny generosity.
The cure of the ache of my heart is the ache for him; how shall I not surrender my heart to his ache?
Only then are glory and respect mine, when his glorious love renders me contemptible.
Only then does the vine of my body become wine, when the wine-presser stamps on m

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