Rumi speaks for himself. We form our own opinions.

Listen to the reed-flute, how it complains,
Lamenting its banishment from its home:
"Ever since they tore me from my osier bed,
My plaintive notes have moved men and women to tears.
I burst my breast, striving to give vent to sighs,
And to express the pangs of my yearning for my home.
He who abides far away from his home
Is ever longing for the day ho shall return.
My wailing is heard in every throng,
In concert with them that rejoice and them that weep.
Each interprets my notes in harmony with his own feelings,
But not one fathoms the secrets of my heart.
My secrets are not alien from my plaintive notes,
Yet they are not manifest to the sensual eye and ear.
Body is not veiled from soul, neither soul from body,
Yet no man hath ever seen a soul."
This plaint of the flute is fire, not mere air.
Let him who lacks this fire be accounted dead!
'Tis the fire of love that inspires the flute,l
This is the ferment of love that possesses the wine.
This flute is the confidant of all unhappy lovers;
Yea, its strains lay bare my inmost secrets.

This list started as the Yahoo Club Rumi and when Yahoo merged the Clubs with the Groups, this list was renamed as Rumi_info rather than Rumi2

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with any groups related questions please contact Hur Guler