Where's the fucking strap on?
Behind a blood-stained curtain, love has spread its gardens.
Lovers are busy with the beauty of the love that is beyond explanation.
Intellect says: 'The six directions are the limit, there is nothing beyond them.'
Love says:'There is a road, and I have journeyed on it many times.'
Love detected markets beyond that market.
Intellect says:'Do not set foot on the land of annihilation;
There is nothing there but thorns.'
Love says;'Those thorns you feel are only inside you!
Be silent! remove the thorn of existence from the foot of the heart;
So that you may see the gardens within.'
O Shams of Tabriz! you are the Sun cloaked by the cloud of speech;
When your Sun rose, all the words melted! Rumi
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