MASS OF THE DRUNK                 



In circles mystic I found not

The pleasantness I sought

In monastery was not audible

The music which love wrought


In school I did not find to read

Any book to be from the friend

In minaret it was hard to find

The voice to be of him to tend


In love of books I could not see

That veiled beauty's face

In sacred writs I could not get

The destination's trace


In idol-house my life's span

Was wholly spent in vain

In rivals' gathering I saw

Neither remedy nor pain


The lover's ring now must I join

Haply to find for solace

From the rose- garden of the beloved

A pleasing breeze or a trace


"We" and "I" are both from reason

That are used as ropes to bind

In mass of those who are drunk

Neither "I" is nor "We" to find


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