Rumi's poem 1

Abroom was put into my hand
By that Beautiful One who said:
“Rise up the dust from the sea!”
Then he took the broom away from me.
He burned it up in the flames of fire,
Burned was with it my futile desire.
Then he cast me into the flames,
To bring out of it, that void of names.
In wonder, I bowed low before him,
“Rise up,” he said, “out of your dream,
Without a prostrator a prostration make,
Your self is that which you need to break.”
“By Heavens!” I cried, “how can that be?”
“Easier than you think,” smiled and said he.
That which isn't and will never be
Is just like a bubble upon the endless sea.

Then I lowered my head and said:
“Put to the sword that which I never had!”
Blow after blow with the sword of love,
A thousand heads sprang from my head above.
I became a lamp, and each head it's light,
Sparks flew from me upon every side.
A radiating light shone down from me
The world was enveloped by it eternally...
What are east and west in the placeless place,
Upon that shoreless shore, upon that peerless Grace?
O cold-hearted one, where is your heartʼs flame!?
To dwell in the land of I, are you not ashamed?
Move out of your dream before the autumn's wind;
Hasten to gaze upon that Beauty from within!
You must seek your soul within this endless maze
Until a lustrous rose emerges from the haze.

When you have beheld the Shahinshah of love,
Then look upon the mirror reflecting His glow,
The mystery is endless in between those two,
Many fail to comprehend in Love who is who.
The whole universe is but an empty dream
There upon the mirror the soul is fully seen.
Upon that lofty spirit Light forever shines
A lustrous, radiant Face of the Divine.
Our days are short and my words are long
Ah, stars and stones are ashamed by this song!
My mirror is the Sultan Shamsuʼd-din Tabriz
I am drunk forevermore by his fragrant breeze...