Rumi

Pour into your veins that same ancient wine again —

A single goblet of which outweighs the empire of Parvez.

These are the verses of Jalaluddin Rumi —

Hang them upon the walls of your heart's sanctuary.

Take that crimson wine from Rumi's cup —

Whose alchemy turns stone to a radiant ruby.

That which turns the deer into a lion-heart —

And washes the stains from the leopard's back.

I bear a share of his fever and flame —

My night shines like day from his star's radiance.

Behold the gazelle (Iqbal) in the sanctuary's wilderness —

From whose lips curls the smile of a lion.

Rumi's poetry is pure ache and fire of love —

His union speaks the language of separation.

Love itself acquires from his reed's sweet cry —

A portion of the Divine Majesty's splendor.

He resolved the trials of this worthless one —

Transformed road-dust like me into alchemy's gold.

Through the melodies of that pure-hearted saint —

I was blessed with the riches of love and ecstasy.

Before me, the heart's doors were flung open —

From my dust they fashioned a new world.

Through Rumi's grace, I attained such station —

That now the moon and stars move in harmony with my will.

His thoughts dwell in lofty company with moon and stars —

His gaze pierces beyond the Pleiades.

Lay your restless heart before Rumi —

That his breath can strip tremors from quicksilver.

Learn the secrets of Faqr from Rumi —

Where even kings envy the riches of his Faqr.

Beware of that Faqr and asceticism —

Which reduces you to helplessness and degradation.

When Khudi abandoned the divine attributes —

It learned from Faqr the manners of beggary.

I have borrowed from Rumi’s intoxicated gaze —

A rapture and ecstasy from the Station of Divine Majesty.

From my grapes, luminous wine drips —

Blessed is the man who clings to my hem.

I too have caught an ember of that burning love —

Whose flame Sanai first lit in Rumi's heart.