by Yunus Emre
Whoever is given the dervish path
may his posturing cease and may he shine.
May his breath become musk and amber.
May whole cities and homelands
gather fruit from his branches.
May his leaves be healing herbs for the sick.
May much good work be done in his shadow.
May his tears become a clear lake.
May reeds sprout between his toes.
And among all the poets and nightingales
in the Friend's garden,
may Yunus hop like a partridge.
Last updated July 10, 2015