Quatrain 185 by Jalal al-Din
Rumi:
(Lyrics for
Vas - Veiled)
ay jân ze del-e to bar del-e man râhast
vaz jostan-e ân râh delam âgâh ast
zirâ del-e man cho âb sâfi o khvosh ast
âb-e sâfi âyeneh-dâr-e mâh ast.
ay yâr, ay yâr
O my soul, there is a link between your heart and mine
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its a guilty pleasure
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Back before the 1979 revolution, there was a chance that my father could have been sent to Iran. Very scary, knowing what transpired about six months later. Anyway, he took some Farsi, and a bit rubbed off on me. All that's left is that I can count to eight, I know the word for snow, and I can name a half-dozen or so cities other than Tehran.
"Mr. Horch?" "Yes?" "In a comment to a blog post you mentioned you could count to eight in Farsi." "Yes." "Someone from Homeland Security will be with you shortly."
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she grew up in buddhist schools and stuff, talking to her gave me good perspective on my western upbringing.
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