I am happy to have found Jasmin Cori's poems on the Internet. She reminds me so much of the Poetry of Rumi.
New Eyes
Running through the village
embracing everyone she meets,
she laughs in ecstasy.
People call her mad.
"New eyes!" she cries.
"I have been given new eyes!"
And it is true.
For the scales which had previously blinded her
are gone now, erased
revealing such utter glory
that her mind took flight,
leaving only a rapturous heart
in an old, weathered body
racing through the streets
on fire with love.
Freefall to the beloved: mystical poetry for God's lovers
(Boulder, CO: Golden Reed, 1996), p. 111.
THE INTEREST WITHOUT THE CAPITAL
The lover's food is the love of the bread;
no bread need be at hand:
no one who is sincere in his love is a slave to existence.
Lovers have nothing to do with with with existence;
lovers have the interest without the capital.
Without wings they fly around the world;
without hands they carry the polo ball off the field.
That dervish who caught the scent of Reality
used to weave basket even though his hand had been cut off.
Lover have pitched their tents in nonexistence:
they are of one quality and one essence, as nonexistence is.
Mathnawi III, 3020-3024, by Rumi
When one is united to the core of another, to speak of that
is to breathe the name HU, empty of self and filled
with love. As the saying goes, The pot drips what is in it.
The saffron spice of connecting, laughter.
The onion-smell of separation, crying.
Others have many things and people they love.
This is not the way of Friend and friend.
Mathnawi, Book VI, 4038-4044, by Rumi
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