English version by Coleman Barks
Original Language Persian/Farsi & Turkish
You and I have spoken all these words
but for the way we have to go, words are no preparation.
There’s no getting ready, other than grace.
My faults have stayed hidden.
One might call that a preparation
I have one small drop of knowing in my soul.
Let it dissolve in your ocean.
There are so many threats to it.
Inside of us, there’s a continual autumn. Our leaves fall
and are blown out over the water.
A crow sits on the blackened limbs
and talks about what’s gone.
Then your generosity returns: spring, moisture, intelligence.
The smells of hyacinth and cypress.
Joseph is back!
And if you don’t feel in yourself the freshness of Joseph,
be Jacob!
Weep, and then smile.
Don’t pretend to know something
you haven’t experienced.
There’s a necessary dying,
and then Jesus is breathing again.
Very little grows on jagged rock.
Be ground.
Be crumbled,
so wildflowers will come up
where you are.
Try something different.
SURRENDER.
