This poem describes outlaws who destroy possessions and fine clothes in exchange for true love and devotion. The outlaws say they have no pearls to offer in return for sweetness, and that one must risk what they value to engage with them. They are kind but will tear apart what is owned, instead demanding that the body become soul and every part tremble with life.
This poem describes outlaws who destroy possessions and fine clothes in exchange for true love and devotion. The outlaws say they have no pearls to offer in return for sweetness, and that one must risk what they value to engage with them. They are kind but will tear apart what is owned, instead demanding that the body become soul and every part tremble with life.
This poem describes outlaws who destroy possessions and fine clothes in exchange for true love and devotion. The outlaws say they have no pearls to offer in return for sweetness, and that one must risk what they value to engage with them. They are kind but will tear apart what is owned, instead demanding that the body become soul and every part tremble with life.
This poem describes outlaws who destroy possessions and fine clothes in exchange for true love and devotion. The outlaws say they have no pearls to offer in return for sweetness, and that one must risk what they value to engage with them. They are kind but will tear apart what is owned, instead demanding that the body become soul and every part tremble with life.
I say I have no pearls. You say, Borrow some. You must make a net of pearls to catch me in. Or maybe you came to the wrong address. This is a gambling house. ere you must have valuables to risk. If you do not want to do that, leave. !e are outlaws. !hatever you bring we tear to pieces. !e are kinder than anyone you have ever met, but we do destroy what you own, your fine clothes, even your mustache. There are those who collect things and those who disperse them. Your body must become soul, every hair tip "uivering with spontaneous life. #ecogni$e lovers by how they tremble. ow much is a tear worth% & look. !e are servants to that, not born of father or mother. If you do not live inside this face, sit behind like the nape of the neck, or advance in front like a blunt shield, noticing how grateful people are for a single glance from the friend. From Rumi: The Big Red Book The 'reat Masterpiece (elebrating Mystical )ove * +riendship, pp. ,-. The collected translations by Coleman Barks