Listen To The Lament Of The Reed

The Türbe of Mevlana in Konya — Whirling dervishes before the tomb of Rumi in Konya, modern Turkey

For a wise and glorious purpose

Thou hast placed me here on earth

And withheld the recollection

Of my former friends and birth;

Yet ofttimes a secret something

Whispered, “You’re a stranger here,”

And I felt that I had wandered

From a more exalted sphere.

Eliza R. Snow

One of the principal themes of the thirteenth-century Anatolian Sufi mystical poet Jalal al-Din Rumi is attaining union with God. He seems, however, to be talking about re-union.

It’s very easy, from a Latter-day Saint point of view, to think (in this context) of the notion of a pre-mortal life.

He begins his great Persian poem, the Masnavi (or “Couplets”), with an extended reference to the plaintive sound of a reed flute, which reminds him of the yearning of the human soul for returning to its divine home:

Listen to this reed as it is grieving;

It tells the story of our separations.

“Since I was severed from the bed of reeds,

in my cry men and women have lamented.” (1-2)

This is the familiar ache of homesickness.

Whoever finds himself left far from home

looks forward to the day of his reunion. (4)

Far from ordinary, though, it’s cosmic homesickness.

Reflect upon this story, my dear friends;

its meaning is the essence of our state. (35)

Posted from Cedar City, Utah

Listen to the lament of the reed