Monday, April 21, 2008

[Sunlight] Climb to the Execution Place -- Ghazal 1138



Grief settles thick in the throat
and lungs: thousands of sorrows

being suffered, clouds of cruelty,
all somehow from love. Wail and be

thirsty for your own blood. Climb
to the execution place. It is time.

The Nile flows red: the Nile flows
pure. Dry thorns and aloe wood are

the same until fire touches. A
warrior and a mean coward stand here

similar until arrows rain. Warriors
love battle. A subtle lion with

strategy gets the prey to run toward
him, saying Kill me again. Dead

eyes look into living eyes. Don't
try to figure this out. Love's work

looks absurd, but trying to find a
meaning will hide it more. Silence.

-- Ghazal (Ode) 1138
Version by Coleman Barks
"The Soul of Rumi"
HarperSanFrancisco, 2001




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