Maula, Oh, Maula


Defeated, dejected.
This field beyond all shapes and ideas,
Beyond even dimension of dreams,
Where you and I, Rumi,
Drink heartily in my sleeps,
Can I believe my rueful voice
Is travelling in that space?
Don’t songs there of a dervish singing
Rever-be-rate?

Maula, Oh, Maula,
At your disposa, Maula.

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