Play no music but the soul's,
that friend who sometimes takes a form like Joseph,
a handsomeness that tears coverings,
beauty that says secrets and gets bewildered.

As dogs lap blood, we drink life.
This is how we are with love's melody,
a taste of springwater, birdsound near.


-- Rumi
(in Rumi: The Big Red Book, 
translated by Coleman Barks)