There isn’t enough poetry on this site. In my life. In my notebooks.
In the world.
There I was, though, minding my own business, when a Persian poem of considerable age bounced in front of my eyeballs. You might have heard of the 13th-century poet known in the West as Rumi; a century later, in Shiraz, Iran, came another gifted wordsmith and mystic lover called Hafez. The Persians revere him. Iran has a national day in his honour — imagine, for a poet. What follows, called “With That Moon Language”, is a small piece of why.
Admit something:
Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me.”
Of course you do not do this out loud;
Otherwise, someone would call the cops.