Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi (1207 - 1273 / Persia)
Go to your pillow and sleep, my son.
Leave me alone in the passion
Of this death-night.
Let the mill turn with your grieving.
But stay clear. Don't fall
into the river with me.
There's no way out,
no cure but death.
Last night in a dream I saw an old man
standing in a garden.
It was all Love.
He held out his hand and said,
Come toward me.
If there is a dragon on this path,
that old man has the emerald face
that can deflect it.
This is enough
I am leaving me self.
Bahauddin, my son,
if you want to be impressively learned,
memorize a famous historian,
and quote him as someone else!
Comments about this poem (Ode 2039 by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi )
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