ای هیزم تر خشک نگردی روزی
تا در تو فتد ز آتش دل سوزی
تا خرقه تن دری تو بی دلسوزی
عشق آموزی زجان عشق آموزی

The sweet grace of Lord and Master will set me free,
When I submit myself to grace and cease to be.

For now, God help us to learn the high circus arts,
Like how to make a lion laugh and a monkey fart!

Perhaps, the Master will be inclined to believe,
We are useful to his pleasure and deserve reprieve.

We hang out around his court by all contrived means,
(And never with complaint about the refried beans.)

We understand no man has ever petitioned love
Except at beauty’s feet, with the Beloved tall above!

There are few things about which Darvish has no clue:
The most regrettable is how to his foul mind eschew!

Speech cannot find the words to offer an excuse-
The mind is too busy with the business of refuse.

We fall on our knees and lift our hands high in praise;
We purify our thought of all but you to fill our days.

All plan and purpose have passed away into nothing;
We yearn to hear the Silence that is forever lasting.

The blue sky and green earth meet in some distant place-
Someday, everywhere we will delight in your embrace.

There are mighty seas to cross in ten thousand ships;
But where is the Beloved, and where are her red lips?

Why is it that Darvish’s best friends are bottle and glass?
Her splashing voice and sweet lips cannot be surpassed!

در عشق تو هر حیله که کردم هیچست
هر خون جگر که بی تو خوردم هیچست
از درد تو هیش روی درمانم نیست
درمان که کند مرا که دردم هیچست

In our lost land of fast food and bad breath,
We pray for the Rapture to bless our death!

Our Resurrection will achieve liftoff-
We will look down on those below and scoff.

A mass ascension for the lucky few:
The refried Christian and the repentant Jew.

The whole family will rise together,
To live with our Holy Father forever.

We will eat the wonder bread of Heaven
And never have to take a shit again.

Our purity will grow and grow until,
We are satiated with divine swill.

Darvish does not want to witness and face
The grand implosion of such sweet grace.

Notes: Like the chains that restrain the insane, chains
of curls restrain the crazed lover. But as a rule, the crazy
are insomniacs!

گفتم که ز عشقت شدهم دیوانه
زنجیر ترا بخواب بینم یا نه
گفتا که خمش چند ازین افسانه
دیوانه و خواب خه خه ای فرزانه

Kali is not a mother who preserves the status quo:
She loves to destroy all that impedes her creative flow.

Kali is consciousness passionate to reveal herself-
She will rip limb from body to uncover her pure self.

She stands on her consort Shiva whose body appears dead:
He breathes and lives through her blood-dripping, smiling head!

She is Shakti, and delights to display her holy prowess;
Her thirst for life is infinite and her courage boundless.

Kali is the dance of Spirit through form with fiery love:
She is the ecstatic dance of bliss as all veils are removed.

Darvish loves his wild mother for her perfect devotion;
She never rests from rescuing her lost, desperate son.

This quatrain is about the kharabat-
a place of ruin where love for God is
served.

این آتش عشق میپزاند مارا
هرشب بخرابات کشاند مارا
با اهل خرابت نشاند مارا
تا غیر خرابت نداند مارا

رفتی و ز رفتنی تو من خون گریم
وز غصه افزون تو افزون گریم
نی خود چو تو رفتی پی تو دیده برفت
چون دیده برفت بعد ازان چون گریم

I reach for the bottle rolling across the floor-
My arm can reach so far, and then no more.

Where is the Friend with long black curly hair,
To fill my glass with glances that end all despair?

The Sun of mercy has left us sobbing for his face-
His shadow blinds with blackness in lieu of grace.

We can’t see you with stone eyes sunken in sockets;
The days bless with pity, and infinite regrets.

What light we have escapes from a broken heart,
That guides us to believe in our hopeless art.

Darvish’s song bites with grit but still inspires:
One day, he will see by the light of love’s desire.