I want your sun to reach my raindrops, so your heat can raise my soul upward like a cloud. – Rumi

If these poems repeat themselves, then so does Spring. – Rumi

I am a drunkard from another kind of tavern. I dance to a silent tune. I am the symphony of stars. – Rumi

There’s a hidden sweetness in the stomach’s emptiness. We are lutes, no more, no less. If the soundbox is stuffed full of anything, no music…. When you’re full of food and drink, Satan sits where your spirit should…. – Rumi