Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

(1207 - 1273 / Persia)

A New Rule


It is the rule with drunkards to fall upon each other,
to quarrel, become violent, and make a scene.
The lover is even worse than a drunkard.
I will tell you what love is: to enter a mine of gold.
And what is that gold?
The lover is a king above all kings,
unafraid of death, not at all interested in a golden crown.
The dervish has a pearl concealed under his patched cloak.
Why should he go begging door to door?
Last night that moon came along,
drunk, dropping clothes in the street.
"Get up," I told my heart, "Give the soul a glass of wine.
The moment has come to join the nightingale in the garden,
to taste sugar with the soul-parrot."
I have fallen, with my heart shattered -
where else but on your path? And I
broke your bowl, drunk, my idol, so drunk,
don't let me be harmed, take my hand.
A new rule a new law has been born:
break all the glasses and fall toward the glassblower.

Submitted: Saturday, October 26, 2013
Edited: Saturday, October 26, 2013

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  • * Sunprincess * (3/19/2014 9:22:00 AM)

    ....thanks for giving me a laugh mr. rumi...over 700 years later and your poem still holds true today... (Report) Reply

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