Rumi

The garden of

Love

is green without

limit

and yields many

fruits

other than sorrow

and joy.

Love is beyond either

condition:

without spring,

without autumn,

it is always fresh.

ART AS FLIRTATION AND SURRENDER

In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest,
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.

HOW VERY CLOSE

how very close

is your soul with mine

I know for sure

everything you think

goes through my mind

I am with you

now and doomsday

not like a host

caring for you

at a feast alone

with you I am happy

all the times

the time I offer my life

or the time

you gift me your love

offering my life

is a profitable venture

each life I give

you pay in turn

a hundred lives again

in this house

there are a thousand

dead and still souls

making you stay

as this will be yours

a handful of earth

cries aloud

I used to be hair or

I used to be bones

and just the moment

when you are all confused

leaps forth a voice

hold me close

I'm love and

I'm always yours