Thursday Poem

A Barroom View of Love

I would not want all my words
To parade around this world
In pretty costumes,

So I will tell you something
Of the barroom view of Love.

Love is grabbing hold of the great Lion’s mane
And wrestling and rolling deep into Existence

While the Beloved gets rough
and begins to maul you alive.

True Love, my dear,
Is putting the ironclad grip upon

The sore, swollen balls
Of a Divine Rogue Elephant

Not having the good fortune to die!

by Hafiz
from I Heard God Laughing
Penguin Books, 2006
translation: Daniel Ladinsky