Tag Archive | Rumi

Wedding preparations

Today is the eve of the wedding, and  if I know the girls around here they will be flitting back and forth to the beauticians, eyebrows plucked, hair cut, coloured and curled, manicures and pedicures galore. Dresses checked, make-up at the ready.

Relatives will be arriving from all over Iran, our house will be full of visitors recovering from their journeys and preparing for tomorrow’s big event.

I will be helping out wherever I can, and observing these traditions as they unfold. It will be an exciting time and it should result a lovely wedding ceremony tomorrow for a couple who are well-suited, clearly devoted to each other and two of the loveliest people I have had the pleasure to meet.

This Marriage

May these vows and this marriage be blessed.
May it be sweet milk,
this marriage, like wine and halvah.
May this marriage offer fruit and shade
like the date palm.
May this marriage be full of laughter,
our every day a day in paradise.
May this marriage be a sign of compassion,
a seal of happiness here and hereafter.
May this marriage have a fair face and a good name,
an omen as welcome
as the moon in a clear blue sky.
I am out of words to describe
how spirit mingles in this marriage.

Rumi

 

Rumi

Thanks to a school friend of mine who writes her wonderful Blog, Miss Whistle, out of LA I have been reunited with the Persian poet Rumi. Like many Persians who have a natural affinity with their poets and their poetry and sit for hours reading verses to each other, my husband can recite reams of Rumi beautifully in Farsi/Persian and it’s rhythmic, lyrical cadences come alive. Whilst I don’t understand much of what he is saying, and I am not of Persian culture, I can still appreciate the craft of a wonderful poet. Here are a couple of my favourite verses;

” Everything that is made beautiful and fair and lovely
is made for the eye of one who sees”

*

Because I cannot sleep

Because I cannot sleep
I make music at night.
I am troubled by the one
whose face has the color of spring flowers.
I have neither sleep nor patience,
neither a good reputation nor disgrace.
A thousand robes of wisdom are gone.
All my good manners have moved a thousand miles away.
The heart and the mind are left angry with each other.
The stars and the moon are envious of each other.
Because of this alienation the physical universe
is getting tighter and tighter.
The moon says, “How long will I remain
suspended without a sun?”
Without Love’s jewel inside of me,
let the bazaar of my existence be destroyed stone by stone.
O Love, You who have been called by a thousand names,
You who know how to pour the wine
into the chalice of the body,
You who give culture to a thousand cultures,
You who are faceless but have a thousand faces,
O Love, You who shape the faces
of Turks, Europeans, and Zanzibaris,
give me a glass from Your bottle,
or a handful of being from Your Branch.
Remove the cork once more.
Then we’ll see a thousand chiefs prostrate themselves,
and a circle of ecstatic troubadours will play.
Then the addict will be freed of craving.
and will be resurrected,
and stand in awe till Judgement Day.