|When you are not with me, |
I sometimes resemble a fish put live in the skillet,
writhing its little cooking time left,
or the empty eyes of graffiti faces, or
a house with no one home.
Other times, my love for your soul
spreads out over the city like music.
Quadrant to quadrant
the jeweled tambourine feet move,
palace to ghetto.
The cultured, the craftsman, the slave,
all begin to hum and sing this.
Ghazal (Ode) 2323
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin