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How I sacrificed my soul for Him,

          but my soul’s Beloved did not come!

That Breaker of promises

          never came to fill the cup.

In His district, I lost my heart

          and religion —

still my Sorcerer never returned

          to end the tale.

The preacher gave me advice,

          but, alas, he did not know

that the manners of the wise

          cannot be expected from the mad.

I burned up in His flame-like face,

          yet no one knew —

like a rend I endured burning

          even a moth could not.

Not until we smashed

          the cup and the pitcher at His feet

did that drunken Heart-ravisher

          come to the tavern.

Not until He heard

          the proclamation of “I am the Truth”

from every idol’s lips, did the heart’s Conqueror

          leave the Kaaba for the idol-temple.

My bird-like heart was in search of the Hunter

          with all its soul;

if it entered the trap

          it was not for the sake of the bait.

When He bestowed light on me,

          I lost control of my heart —

and that heart

          never returned home.

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