Melody of the Reed

My dear flute, the lamenting reed,

telling tales of separation and loss.

Far from your kin by the marsh,

you bring to tears those who hear you.

Only a heart that has languished,

feels all your pain of longing.

I hear abandonment and loneliness,

I hear the cry for intimacy and bond.

You keep company of all who come,

you sing to the sad and the merry.

All come to hear your poetry,

and, to unravel your secrets.

But, the secrets are in your tune,

to be felt, but not seen or heard.

Your body and soul are the same,

the body open, the soul hidden.

The inner flame makes you sing,

no song without the inner.flame.

Your melody has the heat of love,

the wine bubbles and seethes with love.

It is you that sets the wine ablaze,

it is you that gives form to life.

It is love that shreds you to pieces,

and purifies you, my dear flute.

You soar to the heavens with love,

you shake the mountains with love.

The beloved is all alive and well,

you, the lover, in pain and in death.

You are the prisoner of her love,

held and bound by invisible webs.

You carry infinite and vibrant love,

you give essence and meaning to life.

Without love, there is no life,

without wings, there is no bird.

My dear flute, the potion of our moods,

you are the poet, the wise and the saint.

Written all over you, your secrets,

the rattle and tremble of the earth.

If I had a soul mate as you do,

I could join the lament, my dear flute.

Bereft of love, we are all poor,

abandoned, we suffer even with gold.

Just remember, my dear flute, only,

with flowers around, the song bird sings.

With no flower, or flower bed,

the aromas and the memories must do.

Jalaleddin Mowlavi Rumi

Translated from Persian by H. Hemami

March 31, 2003