The Song of Tahira

If ever confronting face to face my glance should alight on you I will describe to you my sorrow for you in minutest detail.

That I may behold your cheek, like the zephyr I have visited house by house, door by door, lane by lane, street by street.

Through separation from you my heart’s blood is flowing from my eyes river by river, sea by sea, fountain by fountain, stream by stream.

My sorrowful heart wove your love into the fabric of my soul thread by thread, thrum by thrum, warp by warp, woof by woof.

Tahira repaired to her own heart, and saw none but you page by page, fold by fold, veil by veil, curtain by curtain.

The ardour and passion of these anguished lovers cast fresh commotions into my soul;

Ancient problems reared their heads and made assault upon my mind.

The ocean of my thought was wholly agitated; its shore was devastated by the might of the tempest.

Rumi said, ‘Do not lose any time, you who desire the resolution of every knot;

For long you have been a prisoner in your own thoughts, now pour this tumult out of your breast!’