‘The Beloved is my eternal sun’: A new translation of Rumi’s poetry and parables by Farrukh Dhondy

Your love infused my frozen heart with fire
My conceits turned to ashes on that pyre
I left all sterile learning on the shelf
And danced to the melodies of desire.

O Rabab, singing minstrel of the dunes,
Before your melodies my poor heart swoons
You are desire’s spy, whispering sands
The secrets of the heart are in your tunes.

The Beloved is my eternal sun
And I, the lover, like a planet run
In orbit round him and when springtime comes
And branches sprout, I am the dancing one.

The infidel declared that “God is dead”
And yet the sun is nucleating red
Glaring down on denouncers on the roof
Who close their eyes to wonders He has bred.

Your silence was replaced by moral tales
So song, replacing piety, prevails
When you without a name shuffle the pack
And toss the coin to predict heads or tails.

Why you left me I will never know
I was less than nothing to you and so
More loyal to me than you ever were
Is this longing for you – O let it grow!

A donkey’s burden

A donkey, a poor water-carrier’s slave
Was whipped and tortured to make him behave

Without complaint all through the
stretching day.
The skins of water on his back would weigh

Him down as he was forced to circulate
Around the villages whose thirsts ordained
his fate.

The poor creature forced to work so hard...

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