I would not want my words

I would not want all my words
To parade around this world
In pretty costumes,

So I will tell you something
Of the bar room view of love.

Love is grabbing hold of the Great Lion’s mane
And wrestling and rolling deep into Existence

While the Beloved gets rough
And begins to maul you alive

True Love, my dear
Is putting an iron-clad grip upon

The sore, swollen balls
Of a Divine Rogue Elephant

And
Not having the good fortune to Die.

~ Hafiz

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~ by scalambra on January 8, 2011.

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