On that fatal day when my casket rolls along
Do not think my heart is in this world.
Do not cry, do not cry with anguished moans,
For that is a pit a demon has dug, and only that is sad.
When you see my procession, don't cry, "Gone, gone!"
For me it is a time of meeting and reunion.
As you lower me into the grave, don't say, "So long."
The grave is a veil before the gathering of paradise.
When you see that lowering down, consider a rising.
What harm is there in the setting of a sun or moon?
What seems a setting to you is a dawning.
Though it may seem a prison,
This vault releases the soul.
What seed goes into the earth and does not grow?
Why are you doubting this human seed?
What bucket goes down and does not come up full?
Why should the Joseph of the spirit resent the well?
Close your mouth on this side and open it beyond,
For in the nowhere air will be your song.
-- Jelal ad-Din Rumi
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