Rumi on Gratitude
What was said to the rose that made it open was said to me here in my chest.
What was told the cypress that made it strong
and straight, what was
whispered the jasmine so it is what it is, whatever made sugarcane sweet, whatever
was said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil in
Turkestan that makes them
so handsome, whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush like a human face, that is
being said to me now. I blush. Whatever put eloquence in language, that's happening here.
The great warehouse doors open; I fill with gratitude, chewing a piece of sugarcane,
in love with the one to whom every thing belongs!
What was said to the rose that made it open was said to me here in my chest.
What was told the cypress that made it strong
and straight, what was
whispered the jasmine so it is what it is, whatever made sugarcane sweet, whatever
was said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil in
Turkestan that makes them
so handsome, whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush like a human face, that is
being said to me now. I blush. Whatever put eloquence in language, that's happening here.
The great warehouse doors open; I fill with gratitude, chewing a piece of sugarcane,
in love with the one to whom every thing belongs!
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