The Light Of His Countenance

When the rose has faded and the garden is withered,
The song of the nightingale is no longer to be heard.
The Beloved is all in all, the lover only veils Him;
The Beloved is all that lives, the lover a dead thing.
When the lover feels no longer love's quickening,
He becomes like a bird who has lost its wings. Alas!
How can I retain my senses about me,
When the Beloved shows not the Light of his countenance?

Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi From: Charles F. Horne, ed., The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Vol. VIII:Medieval Persia, pp. 111-130.