🎧 I recommend listening with headphones! You can find this musical tale in English, Russian and Bulgarian, along with its video and many other tales, on my new website: www.solaria-gallery.com/tales/ –– 📅 June 30 is the last day of the month — the final day of my personal challenge inspired by the Eastern tales of Scheherazade 🕌✨. I asked myself: which character is worthy of the very last story? 💫 Rumi is the most worthy, without a doubt! And he will tell his own story — in a modern Eastern musical tale about Love 💖🎶🌙 🧿 Rumi (1207–1273) was a Persian poet, mystic, and Sufi teacher whose works inspire people around the world 🌍 with their profound wisdom 🕊️ and celebration of Love as a path to the Divine 🔥🌌. His verses, rich with imagery of music 🎼, fire 🔥, and union 🤝, are among the most translated and quoted in world literature 📜🌟. Check my playlist 'Eastern Tales' with 8 songs! ========= 💖 Rumi's Love 💖 (As told by Rumi) Tonight, when silence breathes between words, and every star resembles a question, I will tell you not a story — but a remembering. Not for your sake — for you already know. But for mine — because some truths can only be carried in rhythm. The moment I heard the first love story, I did not understand. But something inside me began to stir — like wind in a locked room. I did not know your face. Nor your name. And yet, it was as if my soul had already spoken you — before language was born. [Verse 1 – The First Love Story] The moment I heard of love’s first tale, a wind inside began to sail. I didn’t know your face or name — yet somehow, I had called your flame. Rumi: “The moment I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.” From that day on, every sound became a whisper toward you. Every flower — an invitation. And I understood: love is not what arrives from outside. It is what cracks open from within, like a seed hearing spring. When my body sat still, my spirit burned like a flame without a source. And in that burning I discovered: we are not separate. We are rays. We are breath, passed through the mouth of the infinite. [Bridge 1 – Love as the Whole] Love is the whole — we’re just a ray, a fleeting note, a breath, a day. It asks no name, it owns no right — just breaks us open into light. “Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth.” And just when I thought I was alone in this search, I heard... I heard myself in another’s voice. He said nothing — only pointed outward: Rumi: “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” And then I dreamed of it. That world without borders. Without “I” and “you.” Only belonging. [Chorus 1 – The Field Beyond] There’s a field beyond the known, beyond the right, beyond the wrong. Where silence sings and self is gone — I’ll meet you there. We both belong. In that dream, I was not a drop in the ocean. I was the ocean, longing to be whole again. And when I breathed, I inhaled waves, lifted skies, and hid storms I had created. [Verse 2 – The Ocean in the Drop] You’re not a drop within the sea — the sea itself lives on through thee. Your breath contains the endless tide, the sky, the storm you try to hide. Rumi: “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” I became a dance. My words collapsed. Only flame remained. [Bridge 2 – The Fire of Love] Then love arrived and lit a spark, and burned away the lesser dark. It left me raw, but more than free — it left me what I’m meant to be. Rumi: “Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.” I did not lose myself — I simply no longer needed separation. Now I am only a sound. Not a word. Not a name. Not a prophet. But the single tone that remains when all else has been said. [Final Chorus – Beyond the Mind] There’s a field beyond the mind, where hearts dissolve, and stars align. No words remain, just one deep tone — and in that sound, I am your own. Rumi: “Silence is the language of God. All else is poor translation.” And so, I sit now in the dark. But it is not darkness — it is fullness. If you hear me — you are already there. If not — then you are still whispering your own tale. And it will guide you. To the field. To me. To you. P.S. If you like this rhythm, listen: https://suno.com/s/IC4ZGG0VIkhwqnNl
