Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
I don't get tired of you. Don't grow weary
of being compassionate toward me!
All this thirst equipment
must surely be tired of me,
the waterjar, the water carrier.
I have a thirsty fish in me
that can never find enough
of what it's thirsty for!
Show me the way to the ocean!
Break these half-measures,
these small containers.
All this fantasy
Let my house be drowned in the wave
that rose last night in the courtyard
hidden in the center of my chest.
Joseph fell like the moon into my well.
The harvest I expected was washed away.
But no matter.
A fire has risen above my tombstone hat.
I don't want learning, or dignity,
I want this music and this dawn
and the warmth of your cheek against mine.
The grief-armies assemble,
but I'm not going with them.
This is how it always is
when I finish a poem.
A great silence comes over me,
and I wonder why I ever thought
to use language.
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Ode 1823 by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Love's Journey, Savita Tyagi
- Check the dogs, gajanan mishra
- Smoking Euthanasia, Dexsta Ray
- Touch, Francis Wanyiri
- poet laureate i think, lee fones
- सोरनिबा आगान, Ronjoy Brahma
- Roaring ready to go…, Mark Heathcote
- why does this have to happen, Happy Hippie Girl
- Sadness Of Living, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Blackened Bronze, RoseAnn V. Shawiak