I’m writing to you from that blessed place <br /> <br />where desert meets oasis, in Iran <br /> <br />and it’s the 10th century, now, today, just here: <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />and so I write of wine; and how <br /> <br />it speaks of God’s great grace and gift; <br /> <br />you may wish to translate the word as ‘beer’… <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />this Al’Cohol is given us to reveal <br /> <br />that, which we hide but really are: <br /> <br />who guessed you had such courage <br /> <br />and such strength when you, (with all divine respect) <br /> <br />so wisely measured, generously, your drink, <br /> <br />and drink revealed the measure, too, of you? <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />And you – who think yourself a slave to home and work <br /> <br />or lack of all the things you most desire, <br /> <br />now know yourself to have been born as free.. <br /> <br />for freedom is the first thing men require.. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />and if I say the joy of drink <br /> <br />is like ‘the rose’s scent or jasmine bloom’ – <br /> <br />remember, I, Rudagi, was born blind.. <br /> <br />a rose or jasmine flower lights my dark room.. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />The arrogant stiff upper lip; the cold, aloof thin man; <br /> <br />the wild of mind – yes, even they may yield; <br /> <br />the miserly; who finds his real self <br /> <br />and showers bounty on the world; <br /> <br />with my poured art, yes, even they may yield; <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />I, Rudagi, prince’s princely poet in Bokhara, <br /> <br />drink to you at ease in friendly pub, <br /> <br />in mutual praise at what God’s secret art <br /> <br />may show you of what lies within your heart.. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />* <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Freely adapted from Rudagi’s poem, as his tribute.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rudagi-s-wine-song/
