The Name of the Beloved
Tell me, Bell,
How is it you resound
To the Beloved's sound?
Flung into flames,
I was born out of loss,
Carved out of iron,
Fired by the smith:
Melted and shaped
Till my skin blistered.
Oh, the pain of separation,
Blow after hammer blow!
Placed on a slab,
Head knocked off,
Patterns etched
All over my skin.
Allah be praised!
A hook was driven
Into my heart
And in my mouth
A gong was hung.
Only then,
The Bell intoned,
Could I give tongue
To the Beloved's name.
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