Thank you for bringing back this thread Sue.
My roses are also blooming in the garden.
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His every quality finds an expression:
Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space;
Love, the life-giving garden of this world.
Every branch and leaf and fruit
Reveals an aspect of His perfection-
They cypress give hint of His majesty,
The rose gives tidings of His beauty.
Rumi
I love this rose thread. It is one of my favourites.
The roses are already blooming and some of them have a wonderful scent.
Love,
Gisele
The roses are already blooming and some of them have a wonderful scent.
Love,
Gisele
Walking in the garden with my lover
I was distracted by a rose.
My love scolded me saying,
"How could you look at a rose
with my face so close?"
Rumi
I was distracted by a rose.
My love scolded me saying,
"How could you look at a rose
with my face so close?"
Rumi
Hidden from all eyes and ears
let us tell each other of our soul.
Smile like a rose with no lips
and keep silent like a thought.
Let us speak silently the secret like Spirit
and avoid talkers who use words in vain...
Rumi
let us tell each other of our soul.
Smile like a rose with no lips
and keep silent like a thought.
Let us speak silently the secret like Spirit
and avoid talkers who use words in vain...
Rumi
Adding more beauty to this thread.
Love,
Sue
Love,
Sue
A Red, Red Rose
O my luve's like a red, red rose.
That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve's like a melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will love thee still, my Dear,
Till a'the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will luve thee still, my Dear,
While the sands o'life shall run.
And fare thee weel my only Luve!
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
- Robert Burns
O my luve's like a red, red rose.
That's newly sprung in June;
O my luve's like a melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will love thee still, my Dear,
Till a'the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will luve thee still, my Dear,
While the sands o'life shall run.
And fare thee weel my only Luve!
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
- Robert Burns
The Rose with its redolent petals
The Water lily with its robe of virgin white
These have surely come to us in transmigration
Of but a few of those
Endowed with sublime beauty and grace.
Some embrace death to sprout again
But most, forever, in dust remain.
Mirza Ghalib
The Water lily with its robe of virgin white
These have surely come to us in transmigration
Of but a few of those
Endowed with sublime beauty and grace.
Some embrace death to sprout again
But most, forever, in dust remain.
Mirza Ghalib
Attachments
Images (1)
Look to the Rose that blows about us -- "Lo,
"Laughing," she says, "into the World I blow:
"At once the silken Tassel of my Purse
"Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."
Omar Khayyam
While the Rose blows along the River Brink,
With old Khayyam and Ruby Vintage drink:
And when the Angel with his darker Draught
Draws up to Thee -- take that, and do not shrink.
"Laughing," she says, "into the World I blow:
"At once the silken Tassel of my Purse
"Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."
Omar Khayyam
While the Rose blows along the River Brink,
With old Khayyam and Ruby Vintage drink:
And when the Angel with his darker Draught
Draws up to Thee -- take that, and do not shrink.
Attachments
Images (1)
The Effect of the Draft (from The Secret Rose Garden)
by Mahmud Shabistari
(1250? - 1340) Timeline
English version by
Florence Lederer
Original Language
Persian/Farsi
Muslim / Sufi
13th Century
Intoxicated from the pure draft
which I had drained to the dregs,
in the bare dust I fell.
Since then I don't know if I exist or not;
but I am not sober, nor am I ill or drunken.
Sometimes, like His eye, I am full of joy,
or, like His curl, I am waving;
Sometimes -- alas! -- from habit or nature,
I am lying on a dust heap.
Sometimes, at a glance from Him,
I am back in the Rose Garden.
by Mahmud Shabistari
(1250? - 1340) Timeline
English version by
Florence Lederer
Original Language
Persian/Farsi
Muslim / Sufi
13th Century
Intoxicated from the pure draft
which I had drained to the dregs,
in the bare dust I fell.
Since then I don't know if I exist or not;
but I am not sober, nor am I ill or drunken.
Sometimes, like His eye, I am full of joy,
or, like His curl, I am waving;
Sometimes -- alas! -- from habit or nature,
I am lying on a dust heap.
Sometimes, at a glance from Him,
I am back in the Rose Garden.
Attachments
Images (1)
