Mathnawi
In his Mathnawi, Rumi refers to what he calls the “stars beyond the stars” on several occasions. But he wasn’t referring to stars. He speaks of planets. And the planets he refers to represent wandering saints – or dervishes. In so doing, he veers from traditional metaphysics and breaks into the sky of the Spirit. And this is where I leave my shoes beside the path – and wander out across the sand with him. Like as many alchemists, misunderstood across the ages, Rumi does not refer to turning base metal into gold. He speaks of the transformation of the Self. He does not refer to astrophysical calculations, orbital trajectories or retrograde motion. He simply draws a line across the hemisphere of the Soul and connects it directly with the Heart of God. And for my money, the brother hits the mark.
I tried “re-translating” Ibrahim Gamard’s literal translation of Rumi’s Mathnawi - which he worked on in the original Persian. Gamard, according to his own pen, owes a lot to R.A. Nicholson’s 1926 British translation. So, thank you brother Nicholson.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
Stars shine out beyond the stars of this world
and these pose no threat – nor are they in danger.
They wander in heavens beyond the seven layered heaven of man’s creation.
Utterly durable – they irradiate God’s Light. They are not joined – nor are they separate.
Whoever’s rising sign is from these stars,
his soul is a light that burns away deception.
His anger is nothing like the anger of a vengeful man
who seeks to dominate, but only ends up being dominated.
The victorious light of such a one is safe from any darkness
because it emanates from the majesty and beauty of the Light of God.
God scatters that light upon all souls -
but only the fortunate are brave enough to hold up their robes and receive it.
Those few have understood the scattering of that Light
and have turned their faces from anything other than God.
Whoever is without the robe of this love
ends up without a share of that scattering Light.
Those who do, turn toward the universes
like a bird in love with the petals of a rose.
We know a bull on sight – how he’ll act – what he’ll do.
But with a man, we must look inside him to know him.
A good color comes from the dyeing vat of purity.
Ugliness, like mixtures of tar and grease, arise from injustices.
The name of the finest color: “The hue of God.”
The stench of ugly oily mixtures: “The curse of God.”
Whatever came from the sea is on its way back to the sea;
it is on a journey home – to the place from which it came.
The flash-flood careening down the mountain:
this is how our souls, mixed with love, pass through our bodies.
Mathnawi I: 754-768