I have seen thieves who steal money and possessions from people;This thief steals the thieves themselves!One pleads to the king for justice, when the thieves become too many;Where should one look for justice, when the thief is the king himselfLove is that king with whom even thieves fall in love!To that overseer God takes the arrogant-dragging them by the hair.Love is that thief stealing the heart of all guards;I shouted last night, 'O sleepers! there is a thief in the house!'In the midst of that, he stole the tongue from my mouth!I said I would tie his hands, in fact he tied mine;I said I would put him in a prison, but he would not be contained in the world.From the pleaseure of his theft, every night a new guard turns into a thief;Intelligent ones are hiding for fear of his tricks.In the middle of the night, you see a crowd gathered asking where is that thief?He is in the midst of the crowd asking the same question 'where is that thief?'Poem by Rumi
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