{ Rumi: Look at my sallow face, but say nothing. }

[delga]

Look at my sallow face, but say nothing
by Jalal al-Din Rumi

Look at my sallow face, but say nothing.
Look at this infinite pain, and for God’s sake, say nothing.

Look at this bleeding heart, eyes like the River Jeyhun.
No matter what you see, pass by. Don’t ask, say nothing.

Yesterday you appeared at the door of the heart’s house.
Your image knocked and said: Come, open the door, say nothing.

I put my hand to my mouth and said: Woe to my broken heart.
He said: I’m yours, don’t bite your hand, say nothing.

Since you are my surna, don’t sing without my lips.
Until I play you like a harp, not a word about music. Say nothing.

I said: How long will you drag my soul around the world?
He said: Wherever I drag you, come quickly. Say nothing.

I said: While I say nothing, do you want me
to burn? Are you saying: Come in and say nothing?

He smiled like a rose and said: Come in and see.
This fire is jasmine, green leaves and roses. Say nothing.

The fire became roses and spoke. It told me:
Except for our beloved’s love and kindness, say nothing.

--

A poem, to make up for earlier nonsense. Since you are my surna, don't sing without my lips. / Until I play you like a harp, not a word about music. Say nothing. Such direct commands are so reassuring to me sometimes.

I have one more to post before signing off; that one ends with a command, too, but it's frenetic and lightly delightful. I can't express how physically I think of this poem.