Who Says Words With My Mouth? ...by Rumi

Who Says Words With My Mouth?

All day I think about it,
then at night I say it.

Where did I come from,
and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.

My soul is from elsewhere,
I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness
began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober.

Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent,
sitting in this aviary.

The day is coming
when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear
who hears my voice?

Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes?
What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.

If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.

I didn't come here of my own accord,
and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here
will have to take me home.

This poetry,
I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.

When I'm outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

~ Rumi
From The Essential Rumi.
Translated by Coleman Barks.
Art by Rassouli