Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
If I Weep
If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears.
Every cruelty which he commits becomes him, every cruelty which he commits I endure.
If he accounts me nonexistent, I account his tyranny generosity.
The cure of the ache of my heart is the ache for him; how shall I not surrender my heart to his ache?
Only then are glory and respect mine, when his glorious love renders me contemptible.
Only then does the vine of my body become wine, when the wine-presser stamps on m