Can You Read My Mind...?

The problem is, when we don't find a logical answer, we settle for a stupid one. Ritual is what happens when we run out of rationale.

Sunday, September 04, 2011


by: Ibn al Farid (Translation)

Every part of my body awaits him,
even he's not with me, in every substance which are soft, tender, pure and happy.
Inside guitar string and melodious flute fused in vibrating tone.

And inside deer's grass field that are very fertile green, in a cool twilight and in bright of first beam of the dawn.

And in the foggy rain whom to go down from the cloud to the flower garden.

And when the wind blow so gentle bring his robe and spread to me a scent of rose fragrant in a soft of dawning day...
And when I kiss the lip of goblet, I smell of pure grapes in cheerful and happiness...
I'm not expelled from my country if he was with me ; my mind won't bothered everywhere we belong ; that place is where I was born if my lover also been there ; where there is a slope sand hill--- that's the place I will have to stop...

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