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The Music

My friend, the stain of the Great Dancer has penetrated my body.
I drank the cup of music, and I am hopelessly drunk.
Moreover I stay drunk, no matter what I do to become sober.
Rana, who disapproves, gave me one basket with a snake in it.
Mira folded the snake around her neck, it was a lover’s necklace, lovely!
Rana’s next gift was poison: “This is something for you, Mira.”
She repeated the Holy Name in her chest, and drank it, it was good!
Every name He has is praise; that’s the cup I like to drink, and only that.
“The Great Dancer is my husband,” Mira says, “rain washes off all the other colors.”

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