my beloved's face

Don't shut my ears to the secret of life.

Don't turn my eyes from my beloved's face.

Don't bar the flute and the wine from my feast.

Don't let me draw one breath without you, friend.

#915: From Rumi's Kolliyaat-e Shams-e Tabrizi

I've been seeking a formula of late. I've been bored, lacking enthusiasm and direction. A formula seems like a nice comfortable thing to run with. Do it this way and that way, no further decisions to make, no further puzzlings to engage in. Here is the formula: simply follow it. Like a recipe for life or a strict diet. Weighing out every ounce (or gram) of flour or sugar that goes into that cake, weighing out every ounce (or gram) of carbohydrate or fat or calorie (or KiloJoule) that goes into a meal. Measure everything and take everything in, in good measure.

There is a formula in this quatrain. It is about mystery and love and art and companionship. There are so many pathways here. If one seems to fail, why not try another? If I fear I'm out of tune with the secret of life, I can listen to music or sip a glass of wine. If I feel lonely because I have lost sight of my beloved's face, I can notice my breathing and recall my closest friend. This quatrain is so neatly packaged, it would make a nice wall poster. Then, whenever I glanced at it, I would be turning my eyes to my beloved's face.

Persian script for #915 @ iranian.com