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When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb

When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb

When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb, should you come
To visit me, I will come forth with speed.
You are for me the blast of the trumpet and the resurrection,
So what shall I do? Dead or living, wherever you are, there am I.
Without your lip I am a frozen and silent reed; what melodies
I play the moment you breathe on my reed!
Your wretched reed has become accustomed to your sugar lip;
Remember wretched me, for I am seeking you.
When I do not find the moon of your countenance, I bind up
My head [veil myself in your mourning]; when I do not find your
Sweet lip, gnaw my own hand.



Poem When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb - Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi