Proem. The Reed-Flute.
Project Gutenberg EPUB edition
Jalal al-Din Rumi, Maulana and Redhouse, James W. (James William), Sir
The eye’s a vase that’s ne’er content;
The oyster’s filled ere pearl is sent.56
The heart that’s bleeding from love’s dart,
From vice of greed is kept apart.
Then hie thee, love, a welcome guest;—
Physician thou to soothe my breast.
Thou cure of pride and shame in me;
Old Galen’s skill was nought to thee!
Through love, this earthly frame ascends
To heaven; a hill, to skip pretends.25
In trance of love, Mount Sinai shakes,
At God’s descent; ‘and Moses quakes.’57
Found I the friend on whom I dote,
I’d emulate flute’s dulcet note.
But from my love, while torn away,
Unmeaning words alone I say.
The spring is o’er; the rose is gone;
The song of Philomel is done.
His love was all; himself, a note.
His love, alive; himself, dead mote.30
Who feels not love’s all-quick’ning flame,
Is like the bird whose wing is lame.
Can I be quiet, easy, glad,
When my delight’s away? No! Sad.
Love bids my plaint all bonds to burst.
My heart would break, with silence curst.
A mirror best portrays when bright;
Begrimed with rust, its gleam grows slight.
Then wipe such foul alloy away;
Bright shall it, so, reflect each ray.”35
Thou’st heard what tale the flute can tell;
Such is my case; sung all too well.