Endless love without beginning made you sing.
Love bedazzled and made a fool of you.
So often sadness killed you, you got away with it.
You spoke so much of sadness that sadness became you.
#1676, from Rumi's Kolliyaat-e
Shams-e Tabrizi
Edited by Badiozzaman Forouzanfar (Tehran, Amir Kabir, 1988).
Translated by Zara Houshmand
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