Tweet
The City of SABA was written in the 13th century by the Sufi mystic poet Jalal ad-Din Rumi and translated and recited in our film by Coleman Barks. What is so striking about this poem is it's relevance to what is happening in our SABA - Washington, D.C.
The City of Saba
There is a glut of wealth in the City of Saba.Everyone has more than enough. Even
the bath stokers wear gold belts.Huge grape clusters hang down on every street and
brush the faces of the citizens. No one has to do anything. You can balance
a basket on your head and walk through an orchard, and it will fill by itself with
overripe fruit dropping into it. Stray dogs stray in lanes full of thrown-out
scraps with barely a notice. The lean desert wolf gets indigestion from the rich
food. Everyone is fat and satiated with all the extra. There are no
robbers. There is no energy for crime, or for gratitude, and no one wonders about
the unseen world. The people of Saba feel bored with just the mention of prophecy.
They have no desire of any kind.Maybe some idle curiosity about miracles, but that’s
it. This overrichness is a subtle disease. Those who have it are blind
to what’s wrong and deaf to anyone who points it out. The City of Saba cannot be
understood from within itself: But there is a cure, an individual medicine, not
a social remedy: sit quietly, and listen for a voice within that will say, *Be
more silent*. As that happens, your soul starts to revive Give up talking and
your positions of power. Give up the excessive money. Turn toward teachers and
prophets who dont live in Saba. They can help you grow sweet again and fragrant
and wild and fresh and thankful for any small event.
(From Coleman Barks, “The Soul of Rumi”)
The City of Saba
There is a glut of wealth in the City of Saba.Everyone has more than enough. Even
the bath stokers wear gold belts.Huge grape clusters hang down on every street and
brush the faces of the citizens. No one has to do anything. You can balance
a basket on your head and walk through an orchard, and it will fill by itself with
overripe fruit dropping into it. Stray dogs stray in lanes full of thrown-out
scraps with barely a notice. The lean desert wolf gets indigestion from the rich
food. Everyone is fat and satiated with all the extra. There are no
robbers. There is no energy for crime, or for gratitude, and no one wonders about
the unseen world. The people of Saba feel bored with just the mention of prophecy.
They have no desire of any kind.Maybe some idle curiosity about miracles, but that’s
it. This overrichness is a subtle disease. Those who have it are blind
to what’s wrong and deaf to anyone who points it out. The City of Saba cannot be
understood from within itself: But there is a cure, an individual medicine, not
a social remedy: sit quietly, and listen for a voice within that will say, *Be
more silent*. As that happens, your soul starts to revive Give up talking and
your positions of power. Give up the excessive money. Turn toward teachers and
prophets who dont live in Saba. They can help you grow sweet again and fragrant
and wild and fresh and thankful for any small event.
(From Coleman Barks, “The Soul of Rumi”)
Groovy
Comment