My cup, my poured spirit and companion are three.
I am Rabi'a the fourth, fevered and longing
For the One I yearn for who waits on me.
Round the clock, round the room, in the cupbearer's hands
Goes the gratifying cup of grace and jubilee.
If I stare, none see me except by Him.
If I'm there, none see the Me as separate from our We.
O small men who rebuke me, His beauty has swept me!
By God, I block my ears to your abuse. I can see.
How many a soulburning night of surfeiting
Fixation made my head like a fountainhead weep!
The drops won't dry away, nor my oneness with Him
Abide, nor my eyes find ease of sleep.