Rumi
Rumi
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī, Mawlānā/Mevlânâ, Mevlevî/Mawlawī, and more popularly simply as Rumi, was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, Islamic scholar, theologian, and Sufi mystic. Rumi's influence transcends national borders and ethnic divisions: Iranians, Tajiks, Turks, Greeks, Pashtuns, other Central Asian Muslims, and the Muslims of South Asia have greatly appreciated his spiritual legacy for the past seven centuries. His poems have been widely translated into many of the world's languages and transposed into...
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth30 September 1207
There is a secret medicine given only to those who hurt so hard they can't hope. The hopers would feel slighted if they knew.
If you are looking for a friend who is faultless, you will be friendless.
If in the darkness of ignorance, you don’t recognize a person’s true nature, look to see whom he has chosen for his leader.
Everyone sees the unseen in proportion to the clarity of his heart, and that depends upon how much he has polished it. Whoever has polished it more sees more - more unseen forms become manifest to him.
Keep walking, though there's no place to get to. Don't try to see through the distances. That's not for human beings. Move within, But don't move the way fear makes you move.
By the mercy of Allah Paradise has eight doors one of those is the door of repentance, child. All the others are sometimes open, sometimes shut, but the door of repentance is never closed. Come seize the opportunity: the door is open; carry your baggage there at once.
Love Is the Treasure The temple of love is not love itself; True love is the treasure, Not the walls about it. Do not admire the decoration, But involve yourself in the essence, The perfume that invades and touches you- The beginning and the end. Discovered, this replaces all else, The apparent and the unknowable. Time and space are slaves to this presence.
Though we seem to be sleeping, there is an inner wakefulness that directs the dream, and will eventually startle us back to the truth of who we are.
Achieve some perfection [excellence] yourself, so that you may not fall into sorrow by seeing the perfection in others.
I Wish I Could Give You A Taste Of The Burning Fire Of Love. There Is A Fire Blazing Inside Of Me. If I Cry About It, Or If I Don’t, The Fire Is At Work, Night And Day.
Love itself describes its own perfection. Be speechless and listen.
Inside the Great Mystery that is, we don't really own anything. What is this competition we feel then, before we go, one at a time, through the same gate?
I am a drunkard from another kind of tavern. I dance to a silent tune. I am the symphony of stars.
You've come to know the fortunate and the inauspicious stars, but you don't know whether you yourself are fortunate or lucky.