Your spirit has mingled with mine, as wine mingles with clear water.
When something touches you, it touches me; in every state, you are I.
مزجت روحك في روحي كما تمزج الخمرة بالماء الزلال
فإذا مسك شيء مسني فإذا أنت أنا في كل حالMüzicet rûhuke fî rûhî kemâ tümzecü'l-hamretü bi'l-mâi'z-zülâl
Fe-izâ messeke şey'ün messenî fe-izâ ente ene fî külli hâl
Mansur al-Hallaj, Dîwân, Muq. 47, ed. Louis Massignon, Journal Asiatique, CCXVIII, 1931.
When wine mixes with water
you can no longer separate them.
No one knows which drop was which.
This is how Hallaj describes two spirits.
If something touches you,
it touches me.
Whoever has felt the pain of a loved one
in his own flesh knows.
These words take that feeling all the way.
There are no longer two separate tidings.
There is one.
That is why loving is not counted easy.
All the wounds share one address.