quinta-feira, 3 de fevereiro de 2011

A poem by Rumi

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky,
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Walk out like someone suddenly
born into color.
Do it now,
You’re covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side.
Die and be quiet.
Quietness is the surest sign
that you’ve died.
Your old life is a frantic running
from silence.
The speechless full moon
comes out now.

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