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The dust that collects on her threshold —
I’d like to use it as eyeshadow.
I’d like to kneel there, waiting to kiss
her sparkling feet as she flies past.
My soul wraps itself in suffering,
wears it like the threadbare robe
a king bestows on his servant,
proud of the outfit.
Enemy, you’re always at my side.
How long must I bend under your
beating? How long must I travel
the well-worn path of pain?
The hurricane surrounds my house.
Walls fall down, the foundation shakes.
I am a bird flying home to rest.
I find my nest flooded.
Appraise the jewel of your soul
yourself. What price do you set on
your treasure? Your heart’s wealth
is yours to value, invest.
King of roses, be kind to the nightingale
whose unbalanced mind makes him mad
for the love of you. Even royalty riding
in state avoid running over a madman.
Blesséd is Makhfi. God has given her
riches greater than what ocean depth
and diamond mine can yield: The pearl
of words, the jewel of ecstatic song.
