Lord, what a Beloved is mine! by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Lord, what a Beloved is mine! I have a sweet quarry; I possess in my breast a hundred meadows from his reed. When in anger the messenger comes and repairs towards me, he says, â€œWhither are you fleeing? I have business with you.â€ Last night I asked the new moon concerning my Moon. The moon said, â€œI am running in his wake, my foot is in his dust.â€ When the sun arose I said,â€ How yellow of face you are!â€ The sun said, â€œOut of shame for his countenance I have a face of gold.â€ â€œWater, you are prostrate, you are running on your head and face.â€ Water said, â€œBecause of his incantation I move like a snake.â€ â€œNoble fire, why do you writhe so?â€ Fire said, â€œBecause of the lightning of his face my heart is restless.â€ â€œWind-messenger of the world, why are you light of heart?â€ Wind said, â€œMy heart would burn if the choice were mine.â€ â€œEarth, what are you meditation, silent and watchful?â€ Earth said, â€œWithin me I have a garden and spring.â€ Pass over these elements, God is our succorer; my head is aching, in my hand I hold wine. If you have barred sleep to us, the way of intoxication is open. Since I have one to assist, he offers wine in both hands. Be silent, that without this tongue the heart may speak; when I hear the speech of the heart, I feel ashamed of this speech.