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Tema: Dželaludin Rumi

  1. #476
    Moderator Luda Srpska Druzina (avatar)
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    Shamanic middle world
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    Podrazumevano Re: Dželaludin Rumi

    The Reed Flute's Song

    Listen to the story told by the reed,
    of being separated.

    "Since I was cut from the reedbed,
    I have made this crying sound.

    Anyone apart from someone he loves
    understands what I say.

    Anyone pulled from a source
    longs to go back.

    At any gathering I am there,
    mingling in the laughing and grieving,

    a friend to each, but few
    will hear the secrets hidden

    within the notes. No ears for that.
    Body flowing out of spirit,

    spirit up from body: no concealing
    that mixing. But it's not given us

    to see the soul. The reed flute
    is fire, not wind. Be that empty."

    Hear the love fire tangled
    in the reed notes, as bewilderment

    melts into wine. The reed is a friend
    to all who want the fabric torn

    and drawn away. The reed is hurt
    and salve combining. Intimacy

    and longing for intimacy, one
    song. A disastrous surrender

    and a fine love, together. The one
    who secretly hears this is senseless.

    A tongue has one customer, the ear.
    A sugarcane flute has such effect

    because it was able to make sugar
    in the reedbed. The sound it makes

    is for everyone. Days full of wanting,
    let them go by without worrying

    that they do. Stay where you are
    inside such a pure, hollow note.

    Every thirst gets satisfied except
    that of these fish, the mystics,

    who swim a vast ocean of grace
    still somehow longing for it!

    No one lives in that without
    being nourished every day.

    But if someone doesn't want to hear
    the song of the reed flute,

    it's best to cut conversation
    short, say good-bye, and leave.
    Middle World Worker



  2. #477
    Moderator Baudrillard (avatar)
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    25.07.2016.
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    Podrazumevano Re: Dželaludin Rumi

    Tihost

    Unutar ove nepoznate ljubavi, umri.

    Tvoj put počinje na drugoj strani.

    Postani nebo.

    Kreni sa sekirom na zatvorski zid.

    Spasi se.

    Izađi kao neko ko se iznenada rodio u boji.

    Učini to sada.

    Pokriven si crnim oblakom.

    Klizni postrance. Umri, i budi tih.
    Tihost je najsigurniji znak da si umro.
    Tvoj stari život bio je mahnito bežanje od tišine.
    Ćutljivi pun mesec pojavljuje se sad.
    Naš je život putovanje kroz Noć i kroz studen zima, mi tražimo prolaz k Nebu gde jedino mraka ima.
    Iz uvoda u knjigu Putovanje nakraj noći.

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