Rumi, Or, My Heart Is A Vagabond Poem by Birgit Bunzel Linder

Rumi is the master of love.
He sent me to you.
He said, "Here is your journey."
And I lost myself on the way.

You never came to look for me.
Because I am not the purest of the pure.
I am not Absence.
I am nowhere near Tebriz.

Because you are too busy searching
For your enlightenment,
Even if it only is in my love.

You look for the palace of the Sultan,
But my love is an overgrown maze.

You search for agates and coral,
But my heart is only flesh.

You wake the troublemaker
And then let him play next to me.

You search for your soul in a sea full of pearls,
And I only offered you crumbs of bread.

You look for eternal pleasure, joy, and life,
Even if it is only in my love.

You grow wings in your heart,
But I am a white sparrow stuck in mud.

Now my heart is a vagabond,
And if you look for it in me today,
You won't see a trace of it.

Go, put your head on your pillow.
Leave me burning.

I am already turning to smoke,
Rising toward the sky.

Toward the sky that was supposed
To expand your heart.

You are beautiful,
Even if only it is in my love.

Go, rest your head on your pillow.
Leave me to my own night.