Reason says,
I will win him with my eloquence.
Love says,
I will win him with my silence.
Soul says,
How can I ever win him
When all I have is already his?
He does not want, he does not worry,
He does not seek a sublime state of euphoria -
How then can I win him
With sweet wine or gold? . . .
He is not bound by the senses –
How then can I win him
With all the riches of China?
He is an angel,
Though he appears in the form of a man.
Even angels cannot fly in his presence -
How then can I win him
By assuming a heavenly form?
He flies on the wings of God,
His food is pure light –
How then can I win him
With a loaf of baked bread?
He is neither a merchant, nor a tradesman -
How then can I win him
With a plan of great profit?
He is not blind, nor easily fooled -
How then can I win him
By lying in bed as if gravely ill?
I will go mad, pull out my hair,
Grind my face in the dirt –
How will this win him?
He sees everything –
how can I ever fool him?
He is not a seeker of fame,
A prince addicted to the praise of poets –
How then can I win him
With flowing rhymes and poetic verses?
The glory of his unseen form
Fills the whole universe
How then can I win him
With a mere promise of paradise?
I may cover the earth with roses,
I may fill the ocean with tears,
I may shake the heavens with praises -
none of this will win him.
There is only one way to win him,
this Beloved of mine -
Become his.
Rumi
Version by Jonathan Star
"A Garden Beyond Paradise"
Bantam Books, 1992
