Slow the spirit to burst into ardent flame:
We hem and haw about dying to our shame.
We parade our rare and precious ego
Like it were a must-see, brilliant show!
Sodden and sodden is our dull ardor-
Our courage finds refuge in witless torpor.
When O when will this cadaver awake,
And sing and dance for the beloved’s sake?
God help us all to believe in the heart’s pain,
Help us repeat his Name again and again.
Sweet breeze, carry this groan within my breast
To his pure feet where by grace it may rest:
Lord and Friend, light a fire to all my want
Until Darvish’s shame is completely burnt.
I like the freedom of rhyme: want/burnt.
Also the emotion, because the poet is not coming off as bad or worthless, but rather incomplete & in dire need of the Beloved. Self-respect is conveyed, but incompletion.