02/26/2026
Coleman was such an inspriation.
COLEMAN BARKS
APRIL 23, 1937 – FEBRUARY 23, 2026
The marvelous Southern gentleman and ecstatic translator of Rumi’s poetry, Coleman Barks, died this week. Coleman was a poet in his own right and a longtime professor of literature and creative writing at the University of Georgia. But he is best known for his translations and interpretations of the thirteenth-century mystic Persian poet Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi. In 1976, Barks’ close friend, the poet Robert Bly, showed him some academic translations of Rumi. At that time, Rumi’s poetry had been translated into English mostly by scholars and were barely known in the West. Bly urged Barks to “release the poems from their cages.” Thus began his long career translating Rumi, and producing dozens of books and collections. His translations have sold millions of copies and have been translated into many languages spanning 41 countries, inspiring readers worldwide.
I had the pleasure of knowing Coleman Barks from his many visits to Omega Institute, where he taught workshops and gave readings, sometimes accompanied by dancers and dervishes and musicians. Coleman was a great lover of life, nature, rivers, ice cream, wine, words, beauty, and people—all kinds of people. He was both gentle and unruly at the same time. I loved him for that. I owe him so much! His translations of Rumi’s poetry saw me through hard times and happy times. I took the title of my book Broken Open from a line of one of his Rumi translations: Dance when you’re broken open!
Here's what he and Rumi have to say about death. May he be shouting for joy as we mourn his passing.
Ode 911: On the day I die
On the day I die, when I'm being
carried toward the grave, don't weep.
Don't say, ‘He's gone! He's gone!'
Death has nothing to do with going away.
The sun sets and the moon sets,
but they're not gone. Death
is a coming together.
The tomb looks like a prison,
but it's really release
into Union.
The human seed goes down in the ground
like a bucket into the well where Joseph is.
It grows and comes up full
of some unimagined beauty.
Your mouth closes here
and immediately opens
with a shout of joy there.
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi, as translated by Coleman Barks
