Don’t grieve.
Anything you lose comes round in another form.
The child weaned from mother’s milk
Now drinks wine and honey mixed.
God’s joys move from unmarked box to unmarked box,
from cell to cell.
As rainwater,
down into flowerbed
And roses, up from ground.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Rumi (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.