Rumi was born in the year 1207, and has written extensive poetry in Persian. Following are a couple of his works, translated
The morning wind spread its fresh smell. We must get up and take that in, that wind that lets us live. Breathe before its gone. There is a strange frenzy in my head, of birds flying, each particle circulating on its own. Is the one I love everywhere? Dance, when you're broken open. Dance, if you've torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance, when you're perfectly free.
What stayed with you?
A line that lingered, a feeling, a disagreement. Great comments are as valuable as the original piece.
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