A common space for harmonic peacemakers
Lesson 359: The Beloved
Like a pipe, I can say anything at all
when I'm joined, in harmony, with my Friend:
Separate from the one who speaks,
I grow silent, even if I know a hundred songs.
When the rose has gone and the garden faded,
you won't hear any more of the nightingale's story.
The Beloved is all that lives, the lover a dead thing.
- Jalal-ud-Din Rumi
(Translated by Andrew Harvey from A Year of Rumi)
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