being separated

.

.

Listen to the story told by the reed, 

of being separated. 

.

"Since I was cut from the reedbed, 

I have made this crying sound. 

.

Anyone apart from someone he loves 

understands what I say. 

.

Anyone pulled from a source 

longs to go back. 

.

At any gathering I am there, 

mingling in the laughing and grieving, 

.

a friend to each, but few 

will hear the secrets hidden 

.

within the notes. No ears for that. 

Body flowing out of spirit, 

.

spirit up from body: no concealing 

that mixing. But it's not given us 

.

to see the soul. The reed flute 

is fire, not wind. Be that empty." 

.

Hear the love fire tangled 

in the reed notes, as bewilderment 

.

melts into wine. The reed is a friend 

to all who want the fabric torn 

.

and drawn away. The reed is hurt 

and salve combining. Intimacy 

.

and longing for intimacy, one 

song. A disastrous surrender 

.

and a fine love, together. The one 

who secretly hears this is senseless. 

.

A tongue has one customer, the ear. 

A sugarcane flute has such effect 

.

because it was able to make sugar 

in the reedbed. The sound it makes 

.

is for everyone. Days full of wanting, 

let them go by without worrying 

.

that they do. Stay where you are 

inside such a pure, hollow note. 

.

Every thirst gets satisfied except 

that of these fish, the mystics, 

.

who swim a vast ocean of grace 

still somehow longing for it! 

.

No one lives in that without 

being nourished every day. 

.

But if someone doesn't want to hear 

the song of the reed flute

.

it's best to cut conversation 

short, say good-bye, and leave.

.

~ Rumi

translation by Coleman Barks

from The essential Rumi

.