Sometimes a mule does not know
What is best for itself.
When the mind is confused like that
It secretly desires a master
With a skilled whip
To guide it to those playgrounds
On the earth's table
Where the Sweet One's light has
Made life more tasty.
Hafiz always carries such a whip
But I rarely need to use it.
I prefer just turning myself into
The prettiest mule
In town
And making my tail sing
Knowing your heart will then
Follow.
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