Go, rest your head on a pillow, leave me alone;
leave me ruined, exhausted from the journey of this night,
writhing in a wave of passion till the dawn.
Either stay and be forgiving, or,
if you like, be cruel and leave.
Flee from me, away from trouble;
take the path of safety, far from this danger.
We have crept into this corner of grief,
turning the water wheel with a flow of tears.
While a tyrant with a heart of flint slays, and no one says,
"Prepare to pay the blood money.
" Faith in the king comes easily in lovely times,
but be faithful now and endure, pale lover.
No cure exists for this pain but to die,
So why should I say, "Cure this pain"?
In a dream last night I saw an ancient one in the garden of love,
beckoning with his hand, saying,
"Come here."
On this path, Love is the emerald, the beautiful green that wards off dragonsnough,
I am losing myself.
If you are a man of learning,
read something classic,
a history of the human struggle and don't settle for mediocre verse.
Rumi
Kulliyat-i-Shams 2039
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