Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Fakhr-al-Din Iraqi - He whom I love is I.



I sought solitude with my loved one,
Yet find there is no one here but myself.
And if there were a "someone else," then, truly,
I should not have attained her.

When I clutched at His skirt,
I found His hand in my sleeve.

I am the one I love;
He whom I love is I.
Two, yet residing in a single body.

If I have become the Beloved,
Who is the lover?
Beloved, Love and lover-three in one;
There is no place for union here,
So, what is this talk of "separation?"

What He takes,
He takes with His own hand from Himself;
What He gives,
He gives from Himself to Himself.

Hunter, prey, bait, and trap;
Candle, candlestick, flame, and moth;
Beloved, lover, soul, and soul's desire;
Inebriation, drinker, wine, and cup.
All is He!

Is it You or I this reality in the eye?
Beware, beware of the word, "two."

"I" and "You" have made of man a duality;
Without these words, You are I and I am You.






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