I am tired of my feeble companions.
The lion of God, the heroic Rustam, is what I desire.
Bankrupt as I am, I still won’t accept cheap flowers.
A mine of precious stones is what I desire.
Weary of these weary people, I am weeping.
The shouting and jumping of drunkards is what I desire.
Pharaoh in his tyranny fatigues my soul.
The light of Moses of Imran is what I desire.
“We have searched,” they said.” It cannot be found.”
That which cannot be found is what I desire.
All things come from Him, yet He remains hidden.
The hidden whose works are manifest is what I desire.
“A Bird In The Garden Of Angels is out!
If you’re a fan of Rumi, this new anthology, on the poetry sections of which I collaborated with primary author John Moyne, is one you will want to get. A Bird In The Garden Of Angels is also a wonderful introduction to Rumi for those new to his work, or those who may know of him but don’t know much about him.” … read more
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