See, my life depends upon my dying

My religion is to be kept alive by love:

   life derived from this animal soul

and head alone is a disgrace.

The sword of love sweeps away

the dust from the lover’s soul

for this sword clears sin.

When the bodily dust is gone,

my moon shines:

My spirit’s moon finds an open sky.

For so long, O adored one,

I’ve been beating this drum of love for you

to the tune of

“see, my life depends upon my dying.”

Rumi

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