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"13th Century Sufi Jalal U'Din Rumi Poems"

    Walk to the well.
turn as the earth and moon turn,
circling what they love.
Whatever circles comes from the centre.

I honour those who try
to rid themselves of any lying,
who empty the self
and have only clear being there.
No better love than love with no object,
no more satisfying work than work with no purpose.
If you could give up tricks and cleverness,
that would be the cleverest trick!
The centre clears. Knowing comes:
The body is not singular like a corpse,
but singular like a salt grain
still in the side of a mountain.
Not Christian, Jew or Muslim,
not Hindu, Buddhist, Sufi or Zen:
not any religion or cultural system.
I am not from the east or the west,
not out of the ocean or up from the ground,
not natural or ethereal,
not composed of elements at all.
I do not exist,
I am not an entity in this world or the next,
did not descend from Adam and Eve
or any origin story.
Neither body or soul.
I belong to the friend,
have seen the two worlds as one
and this one invoke and know:
first, last, outer inner,
unique breath breathing being

I died a mineral and became a plant.

I died a plant and rose an animal.

...I died an animal and I was man.

Why should I fear?
When was I less by dying?

Yet once more I shall die as man, to soar with blessed angels.

But even from angelhood I must pass on.

All except God perishes.

When I've sacrificed my angel soul,
I'll become that which no mind has ever conceived