Rumi 113

Away bitterness, keep my taste sweet
My mouthful of wine, never deplete
Unveil and disrobe my morning gown
Naked come forth, and the dawn greet.
In the house of efforts there is no chance
He ceases not, my goals how can I meet?
In that wine, I find, my treasures lie
Seeing His face my soul will complete.
Not enough room in the seven skies
When He makes my garment his seat.
From His essence I am Lion-Heart
My sweet songs simply his roar repeat.
He said, "you are the harp in my grasp
I, your maker, play you to my beat."
I am your harp, and each vein is a string
Pluck my strings, this of Thee I entreat.
You are the sky and I am the earth
From Thy grace grows my barley and wheat.

Shahriar Shahriari
Vancouver, Canada
September 28, 1998

 

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