Daily readings of the 13th Century Persian poet as translated
by Coleman Barks
that is a mighty sharp spin you're putting on those Rumi pitches Ruthi. Without EVERYTHING in cases lowered but still feral enough to be so wild that in the reflection the wilderness is getting smaller and smaller as if you are getting wilder and wilder as communication gets bettered to bestessif it keeps this quickening pace eventually sooner than later the locks in the sea called time will burstopen from shrinking that was flipped flop
Also -As you start to walk out on the waythe way disappears.(But may appear againsometime later.)Just talking from personal experience.
When Robert refers to his personal experience, we all know how rich and deep that is when it comes to walking. Today's Rumi reminds me of the classic Antonio Machado poem (translated further below):Caminante, son tus huellasel camino y nada más;Caminante, no hay camino,se hace camino al andar.Al andar se hace el camino,y al volver la vista atrásse ve la senda que nuncase ha de volver a pisar.Caminante no hay caminosino estelas en la marThe poem is impossible to translate without leaving most of its beauty on the side of the trail, but here goes ...Wayfaring walker, there is no path,but the prints you leave on your way;Walker, there is no path to find,only the path your walking makes.Blaze forth and make your trail,and on looking back,you will find the pathyou will never walk again.Walker, there is no path,only the foamed wake of the seaBeautiful, tender photo by the way.
I'm so glad that I stumbled upon this site -- thank you, Ruth! I have been in love with Rumi for a long time... from my wanderings post-atheism to my life now as a Catholic/Christian. For me, this poemis Christ
Can you include the original Persian? I read Persian, and I would like to be able to see both versions side-by-side, which is surprisingly hard to find. Thanks so much!
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