Did God send me any invoice,
When I was a healthy human,
Created so fine,
And being able to do everything I wanted?
When I received inspirations,
To create,
Did he ever asked me a fee,
After a drawing of mine,
Or for any lines I wrote?
When I can breath,
When I can enjoy life,
When I have my wonderful son,
My trainees, my friends, my love, my family...
How can I ask money,
And for what?
When I received all free of charge,
From my Lord!
And when I shall be buried only with a white shirt,
After passing away this reality,
What for is that fight?
Even to watch, is so painful.
Deniz Kite, 28th February 2009, listening to Bahman Solati reading Rumi
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