Sufi

In the absolute madness of love I am sane -- and I dance
In His dreams and fantasies I am awake -- and I dance.
Out of ocean depths of desiring Him I overflow -- and I laugh
I am filled with His bountiful drunkenness -- and I dance.
My idleness is busyness and all my business is idle
I have no work -- I am unemployed -- and I dance.
From the land of loneliness I have reached the Station of King Jamshid
And now I am Chief in the country of all souls -- and I dance.

Eager for the encounter I escaped myself
Like Mansur I am strung upon the gallows -- and I dance.
A vagabond lover wandering through alleyways and bazaars
The Beloved has dropped His mask -- I'm helpless -- and I dance.
No longer can I give my love to water and clay
My heart has chased after Him -- yet I have found my heart -- and I dance.
No thought of infamy passes through the lover's mind
In the realm of fame and reputation I am first -- and I dance.
My unconsciousness is awareness -- my sobriety is drunkenness
In drunkenness and sobriety I am with the Friend -- and I dance.
I am content, within and without, I have surrendered myself
Brought myself back from Other-than-He -- and I dance.

	At the sufi mosque in Baghdad (and a sufi poem)
	In the absolute madness of love I am sane -- and I dance In His dreams and fantasies I am awake -- and I dance. Out of ocean depths of desiring Him I overflow -- and I laugh I am filled with His bountiful drunkenness -- and I dance. My idleness is busyness and all my business is idle I have no work -- I am unemployed -- and I dance. From the land of loneliness I have reached the Station of King Jamshid And now I am Chief in the country of all souls -- and I dance. Eager for the encounter I escaped myself Like Mansur I am strung upon the gallows -- and I dance. A vagabond lover wandering through alleyways and bazaars The Beloved has dropped His mask -- I'm helpless -- and I dance. No longer can I give my love to water and clay My heart has chased after Him -- yet I have found my heart -- and I dance. No thought of infamy passes through the lover's mind In the realm of fame and reputation I am first -- and I dance. My unconsciousness is awareness -- my sobriety is drunkenness In drunkenness and sobriety I am with the Friend -- and I dance. I am content, within and without, I have surrendered myself Brought myself back from Other-than-He -- and I dance. Back
	Reza Ali Shad Herati was only a minor poet and a minor disciple of Nur Ali Shah, but still a very agreeable poet; this is one of the nicest descriptions of the wandering dervish life I've ever come across in all Persian sufi poetry. Happy to know that Reza Ali, although he was forced to flee persecution after the deaths of Mushtaq and Nur Ali, died with his boots on in the Shiite pilgrimage town of Kazimayn in 1796 -- Peter L. Wilson (who also provided the poem above)