Again, keep in mind this is a translation. The nuances are not as brilliant as in the original, yet I found the poetry beautiful. ( )

For those, like me, who first came to Rumi via the free-form paraphrases of Coleman Barks in the late 1990s, when Rumi came in vogue, this selection of Rumi's poetry by early twentieth century Orientalist par excellence Reynold A. Nicholson is decidedly different. That is not to say bad, but it is different.

Nicholson's translations are not un-poetic, but they are fairly literal and quite old-fashioned. This might scare off the casual reader, but if you really dig into the meat of these poems, and the fine scholarly footnotes attached to each selection, many of the poems are intriguing, instructional, and, of course, quite mystical. Now, the paraphrases of Coleman Barks might be mystical, in their modern way, but these poems tend not only to be mystical but theological, and I hope the reader of this review will understand the difference.

Modern mysticism, and this includes Barks, includes twin strains of ecumenicism and a relativistic hedonism, an un-morality. What do I mean? Ecumenicism, a one-source, many wells religious philosophy that seeks to claim all mystics are on a correct path to the Godhead. Although it is clear that Rumi draws from Christianity and Judaism and other sources, he is a strict Mohammedan, and this is made clear in several poems. Rumi's Sufism, his mysticism, might seem a bit un-Muslim, but Rumi makes it clear that it is not; his mysticism is certainly not New Agey. When you consider that Nicholson died in 1945, it is as if he read some modern takes on Rumi when he declares in a footnote: "'Man is born once,' a hard saying for some modern writers who foist upon Rūmī the Indian doctrine of rebirth...." Ha. This brings us to the "hedonism" of modern new age mysticism. Read through Barks, and other such writers, and you might get the idea that besotted, drunken debauchery is the path to a mystic experience, that morality makes no difference. This is not what Rumi is trying to say. He is not saying: get drunk and have sex so you can see God. He is comparing the experiences, the exhilarating feeling when you're drinking, the ineffable euphoria when you fall in love, to mystical One-ness. Those hard to explain soul-emotions, multiplied a thousandfold, are the experiences of the mystic. Still, the modern "mystic" goes for the easy way. Thus the "Qabala" of Madonna and her ilk, who think that "mysticism" gives one a license to sin; or who read a bit of Zen, carry prayer beads, but never worry about morality; or those who sin away, point out when Jesus said, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her..." and forget he then told the woman, "Go, and sin no more" - not "Hey keep sinning because everyone does it."

So, back to the book at hand. There is much to be learned from this slim volume. The footnotes alone serve as a primer to Sufism and Islam, and some of Rumi's insights on life and mystical experiences are well-worth the Dover Thrift Editions price. ( )