You need to become a pen  In the Sun´s hand. We need for the earth to sing Through our pores and eyes. The body will again become restless Until your soul paints all its beauty Upon the sky

Don´t tell me, dear ones, That what Hafiz says is not true, For when the heart tastes its glorious destiny And you awake to our constant need for your love. God´s flute will beg For your lips…


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