The Selflessly Sacred Art of Whooping It Up
An introduction to a Sufi way of listening to music.
Rumi-nations on Music — The Sufi poet Rumi (1207-1273) (Divan, no. 1296)
Come to me, for you are the soul of the soul of the soul of listening.
Come — you are the cypress striding in the garden of listening.
Come — there has never been, nor will there be, anyone like you!
Come — not even the eyes of listening have seen anyone like you.
Come — the fountain of the sun lies beneath your shadow;
You hold a thousand Venuses in the heaven of listening.
Even though the roof of heavens seventh plane is high,
The ladder of listening goes much higher than that.
Listening is thanking you, with a hundred eloquent tongues —
I will only say some brief points in the language of listening.
When atoms’ embraces are filled by rays of the sun,
All enter into the dance, without the noise of listening.
When love puts his hand on my shoulder, what can I do?
I pull him in the corner, as if in the midst of listening.
Listening recites your praises, both by day and night —
The light of your face gives nobility to the place of listening.
You are beyond both worlds when you enter listening.
This world of listening is beyond both worlds.
We are stamping our feet on anything that is not him.
Why? That’s the condition, in the exam of love.
God belongs to you, and you belong to God;
Listening belongs to you, and you belong to listening.
Come —for Shams-i Tabrizi is the very form of love
We all enter into dancing in the midst of listening.