My heart appreciates Beauty. Why should I run away from the Beloved? The dagger in my hand is a good one. Why should I turn my face away from battle? (more…)
I need such a Beloved that my soul will hold His stirrup. I need such a musician that Venus will die in front of Him. (more…)
O heart, here you are, sitting in the middle of His sorrow. To suffer is the cure. Do not complain. That is the order. When you step on the head of your desire, your dog-self will be suffocated. That is the sacrifice. Rubailer (2016), Rubai #1, page 73.