O Khidr!
My tricky friend
and true,
my green Satan,
my soul-destroyer...
You've pounded my heart
into a tasty morsel,
thrust me onto a skewer,
and roasted me like kabob.
I never knew I could be so delicious.
The friends of God do not understand
my love for you.
They think me mad, of no account;
they imagine my joy is from
lack of understanding.
I tell your tales and do my part,
but even if they hear me
they don't listen.
As for me, I choose that
wild and reckless dance!
headlong into the fire.
Turn me over the coals --
again, and yet again --
that I may wear this
blackened char of self
as my crown of glory.
