Goodbye my Sufi friends and you, my lover;
Nothing now exists to connect you to me
Tayyar is honourable and full of good intent
I will rise from the trap of the world
I will ask you to be my servant in paradise
You are my dancer, I am your poet, we can laugh
Together on days when I taste the rain-drift-clouds.
When you sew I can watch you and fall in love~
Again I remember our first meeting
Amongst the sweet smell of the jasmine
In the walled garden where we couldn’t be
Seen or overheard. You were my perfumed
Idol. You are my window on eternity.
When Mansur Al-Hallaj was finally executed
For the blasphemy of being a Sufi I knew
My time would soon come. The Abbasids do not
Forgive. So, on this tight night of bone-white
Light I do not think of my execution. The Day
Of Death will come regardless. They say
Do not buy wine from a foreigner but this wine
From Andalusia is sweet and clear, it is like a mirror
Or a still lake, we can see ourselves clear and calm.
Unaffected by the ripples which do not draw near.
On this day of rumbling thunder and dark clouds,
Skies swirl and whorl on this day of days.
I am not an unbeliever but I know there are many truths
I was accused of paganism for reading the Greek.
Herodotus, the father of History, he did not seek to
Write a Greek version of the Greco-Persian wars
He sought to help us to learn from past conflicts.
For Herodotus attributes the causes of war
To both divine and human agents,
Who he did not perceive as being mutually exclusive,
But rather as being mutually interconnected.
Will this day of rumbling never be done?
Be sure to testify, always, to the spirit of tomorrow
And kiss me at this door of eternity,
Your hand shakes,
Djinns are all around us. Listen to the wind.
We will not be separated long, my love.