Just the other day,

^{translated from the Farsi by Haleh Liza Gafori}

Just the other day,
fire whispered to smoke,
“No stick of aloeswood shuns me.

From its gnarls and knots, 
my flames unfurl a honeyed musk
of amber, fruit, and flower.

It profits in this perishing.
It welcomes me, even thanks me.

At the doorway to emptiness,
all knots come loose.” 

Cheers, my flame-eating friend 
and Love-slain victor.
We saw you rise from the dead. 
We bow in awe. 

Look at the earth and sky, 
pawned to existence,
one blind, one blue.

Beyond them, emptiness—a gold mine. 
Joy streams from it.
Why flee? Lose yourself to it. 

Turn the hard soil. 
and break the clods open.  
Seeds will sprout.

To stand elegant as a cypress,
to caress a face,
every seed must shed its coat. 

Churning and burning in the fiery gut,
bread turns into soul and mind.
What isn’t transformed by fire
is eaten up by envy. 

Smelt the gold and silver 
hiding in the rock. 
Glimpse what can’t be glimpsed.

Wherever the soul soared, 
fire was there first.

Everything I don’t know,
Love will tell you.