My cup, my poured spirit and companion are three. I am Rabi'a the fourth, fevered and longing For the One I yearn for who waits on me. Round the clock, round the room, in the cupbearer's hands Goes the gratifying cup of grace and jubilee. If I stare, none see me except by Him. If I'm there, none see the Me as separate from our We. O small men who rebuke me, His beauty has swept me! By God, I block my ears to your abuse. I can see. How many a soulburning night of surfeiting Fixation made my head like a fountainhead weep! The drops won't dry away, nor my oneness with Him Abide, nor my eyes find ease of sleep.