“Evening Sky Garnet Red” (Rumi)

Morning opens a door with help for those

who do not ask for any.

Love tears its shirt. Mind begins the sewing repair. You come and both run off. I burn with aloes wood to touch the one who set this.

Dressed sometimes like disaster, sometimes like a guide, the ox of the self sweetens his mouth in a pasture.

A parrot falls in love with an Arabian colt. Fish want linen shirts. The drunken lions want drunken gazelles.

It cannot be said how you take form. One man asks for spoiled cheese.

The prayer rugs all point different ways. If you would soak again the evening sky your garnet red, the qibla tips would all point that way.

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