Mevlana, Mevlana,
teach me to turn.
I would be like the moth–
in the flame I would burn.
I’m mocked by the clever,
but the clever never learn.
Mevlana, Mevlana,
teach me to turn.
Tell me Love’s secret,
Shams-i Tabriz.
I have begged of the moon,
I have begged of the trees.
I’m mocked by the proud
for begging on my knees.
Tell me Love’s secret,
Shams-i Tabriz.
Mevlana, Mevlana,
teach me to whirl,
my arms outstretched
and my heart unfurled.
The worldly all mock
but I’m giving up the world.
Mevlana, Mevlana,
teach me to whirl.
