O my heart! Let us go to that country where dwells the BELOVED, the ravisher of my heart! There Love is filling her PITCHER from the well, yet she has no rope wherewith to draw water; there the clouds do not cover the sky, yet the rain falls down in gentle showers.
Where to next: the
BELOVED or the
PITCHER?
[
Source: RT 77 (partial); 3.60. cal hamsâ wâ des' jahân]
Here is the full poem:
LXXVII
III. 60. cal hamsâ wâ des' jahân
O my heart! let us go to that country where dwells the Beloved,
the ravisher of my heart!
There Love is filling her pitcher from the well, yet she has no
rope wherewith to draw water;
There the clouds do not cover the sky, yet the rain falls down in
gentle showers:
O bodiless one! do not sit on your doorstep; go forth and bathe
yourself in that rain!
There it is ever moonlight and never dark; and who speaks of one
sun only? that land is illuminate with the rays of a million
suns.
