“Cooked Heads” (Rumi)

I have been given a glass

that has the fountain of the sun inside, a friend to both worlds, like the fragrance of amber inside the fragrance of musk.

My soul-parrot gets excited with sweetness. Wingbeats, a door opening in the sun.

You have seen the market where they sell cooked heads. That is what this is, a way of seeing beyond inner and outer.

A donkey wanders the sign of Taurus. Heroes do not stay lined up in ranks for very long.

I set out for Tabriz, even though my boat is anchored here.