RUMI 13

[Guest guest]

TO GOD

 

I only want You in all this varied world,

So why will You permit me to sit in grief?

My heart rests as an ink pen in your hand,

You're the cause of all my gladness and sadness.

 

Except for what You give, what do I own?

Except for what You reveal, what do I see?

You grow on me sharp thorns and sweet roses,

Now I sense the scent of perfumed blooms,

Now I extract tough thorns tearing my heart.

 

However You maintain and sustain me `That I Am',

If You'd prefer to have me as this then I'll be this,

In the vat where you dye my soul with multitoned hues,

I ask myself `Who Am I?' and what is love and hate?

 

You were the first and You will be the last,

Pray, make my last better than my first .

When You hide Yourself I'm unfaithful,

When You reveal Yourself I'm certain .

I own nothing except what You have given,

What do You really want from my heart and soul?

 

 

From some versifications of Rumi's Mathnawi

Alan Jacobs