Saturday, May 19, 2012

Rumi 47


You closed your eyes, meaning it’s time to sleep
It is not sleep, that upon your enemies heap.

You know that a close watch we do not keep
Yet hurried are your eyes, drunken, deadly, deep.

You do me wrong, but that is your treat
Your mistakes, like God’s grace, I gladly greet.

Many heads are lost when those eyes meet
By that blade, that drop of water, you defeat.

Alas, my eyes are a sea of blood
Many worlds are destroyed by that flood

Sometimes bloodthirsty, some messenger of God
sometimes a cup-bearer, some wine, red as blood.

What is cup-bearer and wine, if not divine
God only knows, what for is this love of mine.

In the kitchen of heart we can wine and dine
The whole town can smell such aromatic sign.

Close your mouth like a diver in the sea
Only under water can fish remain free.