THE GUEST HOUSE
This being human is a guest house.Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comesas an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,who violently sweep your houseempty of its furniture,still, treat each guest honorably.He may be clearing you outfor some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.because each has been sentas a guide from beyond.
-- Jelaluddin Rumi, translation by Coleman Barks
Monday, January 4, 2010
The Guest House
Rumi, born in 1207 in Persia, poet, theologian and sufi mystic was writing in Presian. He has been described as the "most popular poet in America" in 2007. I stumbled upon his name like I usually do, listening to the radio, or checking something on the web. I feel compelled to share one of his poems.
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2 comments:
They are even more beautiful in Urdu (my language) and Persian. I enjoyed his poems ages ago, when I was in University.
I can only imagine how beautiful they are in original language. The rhythm and melody of the words are certainly lost in translation. And we can only hope that most of the meaning is still there.
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