Not my favorite compilation of Rumi, an author I adore, yet very intriguing. The page setting, choice of fonts, capital letters etc disturbed me. The choice of love poems, mostly intended as the traditional way we express love (for another person) kind of reduced the extatic flight for me. I choose to post here the last one in the book coming straight from the book "Birdsong: Fifty-three Short Poems" translated by Coleman Barks. This one is superlative:
In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest,
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do, and that
sight becomes this art.