稲妻 (saturnic_tides) wrote in islamicpoetry,
稲妻
saturnic_tides
islamicpoetry

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Bismillah arRahmaan irRaheem...

As'salaamu alaikum, brothers and sisters...Isma Shajarah. I am 18 years old, I reverted to Islam last year after being raised in the Roman Catholic church. I am also a Sufi of the Mevlevi Order ('followers' of Mevlâna Jalâluddîn Rumi), of which my uncle Sh. Kabir Helminski is the North American representative.

By the way...an early Ramadaan Mubarak to all of you who will be observing. :)

But please tell me...why does no one post in here any longer? I'm kind of disappointed...

I'm going to take my chances at jump-starting the community here by posting a couple of pieces. Insh'Allah this will inspire others to start posting again as well. :p

Bismillah arRahmaan irRaheem

The month of fasting has come, the emperor's banner has arrived;
withhold your hand from food, the spirit's table has arrived.
The soul has escaped from separation and bound nature's hands;
the heart of error is defeated, the army of faith has arrived.
Fasting is our sacrifice, it is the life of our soul;
let us sacrifice all our body, since the soul has arrived as guest.
Fortitude is as a sweet cloud, wisdom rains from it,
because it was in such a month of fortitude that the Koran arrived.
...Wash your hands and your mouth, neither eat nor speak;
seek that speech and that morsel which has come to the silent ones.
- Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi

Also on Ramadaan by Rumi...

O moon-faced Beloved,
the month of Ramadan has arrived.
Cover the table
and open the path of praise.


Come to the circle of friends and drink of this bottomless cup.
Why do strangers turn away from this tavern of our drunken dancing? -
they cannot see how wretched stillness is.
Come, and stay with the Friend,
We will dance until we tear apart the skies,
the Sun and Moon half-insane with longing.
Play another song, friends, and untie the knot of this gown.
Rip apart this veil and bring weakness to my senses.
Each longing breath unravels sacred threads..
Oh, God, I am calling...
Pour the wine into my cup until it overflows and stains this coarse wool.
The lonely reed wails, haunting the wind, bending towards the heart.
- ...written in August 2003
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