Here is our translation of an ode that was once attributed to Persian poet Rumi. We have rendered it as a poem in prose:
O people, what shall be my strategy? For I to myself remain unknown. I am neither Jewish, nor Muslim, nor Christian, nor am I a fire-worshipping Zoroastrian. I am neither from the east, nor the west, neither from the land, nor from the sea, neither from the mineral depths, nor from the revolving heavens. I am neither from earth, nor water, neither from wind, nor made of fire, neither from the celestial throne, nor from the terrestrial tapestry. I am neither from the realm of matter, nor that of spirit, neither from India, nor China, neither from Bulgaria, nor Saksin, neither from Iraq, nor Khorasan. I am neither from this world, nor the other one, neither from the paradise, nor the inferno, neither a progeny to Adam, nor to Eve. And I am not from the gardens of Eden. My place is placeless, and my trace traceless. I transcend both body and soul; for I come from the spirit of spirits. I have overcome all duality; for I have seen the oneness of the two worlds. I seek the one, and I know it as the one. I see the one, and I call it the one. He is the very first, and he is the last. He is the appearance and the essence. I know no one except for he who is the One. I am drunk from the chalice of love. I find no peace, save in debauchery. If I spend one moment without you, that shall be a moment of misery. If one day, I can spend a moment with you alone, I shall walk upon the two worlds dancing. O fair Sun of Tabriz, I am in such ecstasy, I can only tell tales of debauchery.
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