Who cares if death comes and grabs my being?
I’ll welcome death.
If I have hundreds of lives, I’ll give away all of them.
I’ll ascend first to the sky,
then with joy, continue to the land of Nothingness.
I’ll tell the Master of the house,
“You took away all of my patience, all of my decisions. You should have come sooner.”
You snatch the stars from the moon and carry them off piece by piece.
Sometimes you take away the baby.
Sometimes you take away the nanny.
The Earth moves huge mountains around. My heart is like that.
Why should I be loaded with straw? I am a man who moves mountains.
Save me from this barn.
Every hair, every cell in my body has become a lion.
But, I am tired of wishing for death..
I am flour, not grain. Why did I come to this mill?
No, no. moonlight also reflects the mill through the window.
But, it returns to the Moon, not some bakery shop.
If I were a friend, with my mind I would tell you more.
But, be silent now so that the wind won’t hear this fable.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, Ghazal 23, verses 296-303, pages 58-59.