There is a mournful painful state connected to loving someone so far above you, so far beyond you, so different from you, having nothing in common with you.
Rumi, "the" poet of ancient Persia, addresses that situation so well in the following poem:
Reason
says,
I will win him with my eloquence.
Love says,
I will win him with my silence.
Soul says,
How can I ever win him
When all I have is already his?
He does not want, he does not worry,
He does not seek a sublime state of euphoria -
How then can I win him
With sweet wine or gold?
He is not bound by the senses -
How then can I win him
With all the riches of China?
He is an angel,
Though he appears in the form of a man.
Even angels cannot fly in his presence -
How then can I win him
By assuming a heavenly form?
He flies on the wings of God,
His food is pure light -
How then can I win him
With a loaf of baked bread?
He is neither a merchant, nor a tradesman -
How then can I win him
With a plan of great profit?
He is not blind, nor easily fooled -
How then can I win him
By lying in bed as if gravely ill?
I will go mad, pull out my hair,
Grind my face in the dirt -
How will this win him?
He sees everything -
how can I ever fool him?
He is not a seeker of fame,
A prince addicted to the praise of poets -
How then can I win him
With flowing rhymes and poetic verses?
The glory of his unseen form
Fills the whole universe
How then can I win him
With a mere promise of paradise?
I may cover the earth with roses,
I may fill the ocean with tears,
I may shake the heavens with praises -
none of this will win him.
There is only one way to win him,
this Beloved of mine -
Become his.
I will win him with my eloquence.
Love says,
I will win him with my silence.
Soul says,
How can I ever win him
When all I have is already his?
He does not want, he does not worry,
He does not seek a sublime state of euphoria -
How then can I win him
With sweet wine or gold?
He is not bound by the senses -
How then can I win him
With all the riches of China?
He is an angel,
Though he appears in the form of a man.
Even angels cannot fly in his presence -
How then can I win him
By assuming a heavenly form?
He flies on the wings of God,
His food is pure light -
How then can I win him
With a loaf of baked bread?
He is neither a merchant, nor a tradesman -
How then can I win him
With a plan of great profit?
He is not blind, nor easily fooled -
How then can I win him
By lying in bed as if gravely ill?
I will go mad, pull out my hair,
Grind my face in the dirt -
How will this win him?
He sees everything -
how can I ever fool him?
He is not a seeker of fame,
A prince addicted to the praise of poets -
How then can I win him
With flowing rhymes and poetic verses?
The glory of his unseen form
Fills the whole universe
How then can I win him
With a mere promise of paradise?
I may cover the earth with roses,
I may fill the ocean with tears,
I may shake the heavens with praises -
none of this will win him.
There is only one way to win him,
this Beloved of mine -
Become his.
**
Yes, I am sad,
when I am not ecstatic,
hopeful when I am not in despair.
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