Rumi

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My tongue is parched, though I've drunk myself senseless.

I haven't heart nor head; nor patience, nor peace of mind.

My tears fall, bewildered at the thought of her, defenseless.

Saghi, please, do me a favor -- bring me some more wine.

#871, from Rumi's Kolliyaat-e Shams-e Tabrizi
Edited by Badiozzaman Forouzanfar (Tehran, Amir Kabir, 1988).

Translated by Zara Houshmand
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