Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

[Rumi] (1207 - 1273 / Persia)

Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi Quotes

  • ''“Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure.” ''
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  • ''“I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.” ''
  • ''“Let yourself be drawn by the stronger pull of that which you truly love.” ''
  • ''“Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.” ''
  • ''“There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.
    There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.
    You feel it, dont you?” ''
  • ''“Words are a pretext. It is the inner bond that draws one person to another, not words.” ''
  • ''“Travel brings power and love back into your life.” ''
  • ''“Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” ''
  • ''“Set your life on fire. Seek those who fan your flames” ''
  • ''“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.” ''

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Best Poem of Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

A Moment Of Happiness

A moment of happiness,
you and I sitting on the verandah,
apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.
We feel the flowing water of life here,
you and I, with the garden's beauty
and the birds singing.
The stars will be watching us,
and we will show them
what it is to be a thin crescent moon.
You and I unselfed, will be together,
indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.
The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar
as we laugh together, you and I.
In one form upon this earth,
and in another form in a timeless sweet land.

Read the full of A Moment Of Happiness

If I Weep

If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears.
Every cruelty which he commits becomes him, every cruelty which he commits I endure.
If he accounts me nonexistent, I account his tyranny generosity.
The cure of the ache of my heart is the ache for him; how shall I not surrender my heart to his ache?
Only then are glory and respect mine, when his glorious love renders me contemptible.
Only then does the vine of my body become wine, when the wine-presser stamps on m

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