I Have Come So That
I have come so that,
Tugging your ear,
I may draw you to me,
Un heart and un self you,
plant you in my heart and soul.
I have come a sweet springtide unto you,
to seize you very gently in my embrace and squeeze you.
I have come to adorn you in this worldly abode,
to convey you above the skies like lovers’ prayers.
I have come because you stole a kiss from an idol fair;
give it back with a glad heart, master,
for I will seize you back.
What is a mere rose?
You are the All,
you are the speaker of the command “Say” .
If no one else knows you, since you are I, I know you.
You are my soul and spirit,
you are my Fatiha-chanter ,
become altogether the Fatiha,
so that I may chant you in my heart.
You are my quarry and game,
though you have sprung from the snare;
return to the snare, and if you will not, I will drive you.
The lion said to me, “You are a wondrous deer; be gone!
Why do you run in my wake so swiftly?
I will tear you to pieces.”
Accept my blow, and advance like a hero’s shield;
give your ear to naught but the bowstring,
that I may bend you like a bow.
So many thousand stages there are from earth’s bounds to man;
I have brought you from city to city,
I will not leave you by the roadside.
Say nothing, froth not, do not raise the lid of the cauldron;
simmer well, and be patient, for I am cooking you.
No, for you are a lion’s whelp hidden in a deer’s body:
I will cause you suddenly to transcend the deer’s veil.
You are my ball, and you run in the curved mallet of my decree;
though I am making you to run, I am still running in your track.
“Mystical Poems of Rumi 1”, A.J. Arberry
The University of Chicago Press, 1968