I knew not when I rode
the high-spirited stallion,
the harder I pulled its reins
the stiller it would remain.
I discovered a love poem written by princess Rabi’a bint Ka’b, who lived in Afghanistan in the 10th century.
A tragic legend recalls that she fell in love with one of her servants; when found out, Rabi’a’s brother had her and the servant lover executed.
He had her wrists cut and put her in a steam bath to bleed to death.
She used her own blood to write this poem on a wall of the bath:
My love for him brought
about my bondage again,
all essays in secrecy
proved to be in vain.
I knew not when I rode
the high-spirited stallion,
the harder I pulled its reins
the stiller it would remain.
Love is like an expansive sea
with no shore in sight,
who knows, oh wise woman
how to swim in it outright.
If you ever aspire
to go to the end of love,
welcome with it all things
vile you could think of.
When witnessing things hideous
fancy them lovely and neat,
When given deadly poison
imagine it tasting sweet.
by Rabi’ah bent Ka’b
(wish I could upload it straight to your brain, but we don’t have the technology for that yet.)
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