When The Violin
While I was in the mountains Sunday, sitting on a rock overlooking the great Tularosa Basin, this poem by Hafiz came to mind:
When
The violin
Can forgive the past
It starts singing.
When the violin can stop worrying
About the future
You will become
Such a drunk laughing nuisance
That God
Will then lean down
And start combing you into
His
Hair.
When the violin can forgive
Every wound caused by
Others
The heart starts
Singing.
~Hafiz
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