Cup-Bearer

#Awesomeshake

Hey cup-bearer, today you and I exist here and have fallen into deep water. Let's find out who knows how to swim. If a flood covers the earth with waves as big as camels, the birds don't have to worry. They think of nothing while flying in the sky. Our face shines with gratitude. We are mixed like fish into the waves of the sea. Sea and flood give life to fish and make them livelier. Hey master, give us a boat hey water, rise engulf us with your waves. O Musa alyhe salam, hit the sea with your staff. This wine causes a different kind of drunkenness in every head, but the love of that cup-bearer is enough for me. You can have the rest of it. The cup-bearer grabbed all the drunks' hats yesterday. Today he's serving cup after cup of wine to take our mantles away. Hey beautiful one, of whom the moon and Jupiter are jealous, you are with me secretly, like a fairy, pulling me nicely, but not telling me where you're leading me. Hey the light of my eyes wherever i go, you are with me. If you want, pull me toward the tavern, make me drunk, or pull me toward nothingness. Annihilate me! We also want manifestation. Every moment god manifests, and every moment the mountain is broken into pieces. A time comes when it becomes green, another time, extremely white, clear and beautiful. One time it becomes pearl, then later, red amber. The ones, who want to reach him, see him; look in the mountain places where he manifests. Hey mountain, what kind of wine did you drink? We've become drunk. Come, hey friend, come. Owner of the garden, gardener, why do you hold me? Why don't you let me free? If i eat the grape, you take my turban. My beloved whose light comes from behind the curtains, your light and warmth are like summer for me. Take me to the rose garden. My heart is fiery like summer.  Salve for the eyes of my soul, where did you go? Come; come, so the water will spring from our oven. Come, so the barren land will be green, the cemeteries will become a garden, and grapes will ripen, come and see how this sticky mud got stuck to our soul. We can’t get rid of it. The kindness of your face has changed so many thorns into so many rose gardens that our faith has been acknowledged hundreds of thousands of times. Hey eternal love, in order to deliver our soul out of this dungeon, how beautifully you show your face from behind this mould. My bright morning, make joy during the time of gloom. Show in the evening a bright, wonderful day. You make pearls out of blue beads. You scare Venus. You make kings out of the penniless. Good for you, where are the eyes that can see a trace of your dust? Where are the ears that hear our testament? Where is the mind that understands our evidence? If the heart sees the beauty and tells of its grace and favours, taste and flavour will sing songs at the bottom of our every tooth. The sound of drums coming from the land of soul says, “Particles are reaching wholeness, sweet basil to sweet basil, rose to rose. Everything is becoming free from the jail of our thorns.”

~ Shirazian