I raise my glass to the only divine lover

I raise my glass to the only divine lover;
I drink to the dregs all the wine he offers.

There is no taste I prefer to his presence;
my eyes have no light save his effulgence.

I have no motion but for his rhythm:
all life springs from his ancient whim.

Hunger gnaws daily until beauty’s embrace-
all thirst is for sight of his compassionate face.

My tears are a lake I would gladly drown in,
but for the pity induced by such a sin.

My only hope is the pain of despair:
I will not find him until I forsake all care.

Darvish has no friend but the deep blue sky;
Yet, what he loves, always remains close by.




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