THIRSTY FISH, RUMI
I have a thirsty fish inside that can never get enough of what it is thirsty for,
So show me the way to the ocean.
Break all these small containers,
These half measures,
All of this fantasy,
All of this this grief.
Let my house be drowned by the wave that rose last night
From the courtyard hidden in the centre of my chest.
Listen – the harvest I expected has been washed away,
But no matter – Joseph fell from the moon into my well
And now, I don’t want learning or dignity or respectability:
I want music and this dawn and the warmth of your cheek against mine.
Yes, I hear the armies of grief amassing,
But I am not going with them.
Si-o-Se Pol, The Bridge of Thirty-Three Arches, Isfahan, Iran