There is a man making his way through a moonlit field of sugarcanes
He is weilding a machete that clears the way for him
He slashes viciously and clears an impressive area with each swing

The sweat is running down his forehead now
His breath and his heartbeat is all he can hear
Thanks to his tunnelvision a stray swing slashes through the canes-
and into his left leg

The dark stream is pooling in his boots now
He can't quite feel the pain, but panics none the less
The slashes grow more ferocious, a distinct twang sounds with each swing

The man inflicts more wounds upon himself
Each wound strenghtens his resolve in turn
Every swing greater than the last, every step more ******



There is a man laying in a moonlit field of sugarcanes
At first he curses the venture, what a sorry mess!
After that he weeps without sound, what else can he do?

Lastly he looks back at the whole thing
Sliced up vegetation and pools of dark blood
Everything will be ok.

STAY CLOSE, MY HEART -- RUMI

Stay close, my heart, to the one who knows your ways;
Come into the shade of the tree that allays has fresh flowers.
Don't stroll idly through the bazaar of the perfume-markers:
Stay in the shop of the sugar-seller.
If you don't find true balance, anyone can deceive you;
Anyone can trick out of a thing of straw,
And make you take it for gold
Don't squat with a bowl before every boiling ***;
In each *** on the fire you find very different things.
Not all sugarcanes have sugar, not all abysses a peak;
Not all eyes possess vision, not every sea is full of pearls.
O nightingale, with your voice of dark honey! Go on lamenting!
Only your drunken ecstasy can pierce the rock's hard heart!
Surrender yourself, and if you cannot be welcomes by the Friend,
Know that you are rebelling inwardly like a thread
That doesn't want to go through the needle's eye!
The awakened heart is a lamp; protect it by the him of your robe!
Hurry and get out of this wind, for the weather is bad.
And when you've left this storm, you will come to a fountain;
You'll find a Friend there who will always nourish your soul.
And with your soul always green, you'll grow into a tall tree
Flowering always with sweet light-fruit, whose growth is interior.

(translated by Andrew Harvey)