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.