The Food Sack

The tale of the Sufi's love on an empty table  
A Sufi saw a table hanging on a nail one day, spinning around and tearing clothes.  
He cried out, "Behold the tune of the destitute, behold the remedy for famines and pains."  
As his smoke and fervor grew, every Sufi became his companion.  
They would shout and make noise, becoming intoxicated and losing themselves for a while.  
A busybody asked the Sufi, "What is this? A table hanging and empty of bread."  
He replied, "Go away, you are a meaningless image. Seek existence, for you are not a lover."  
Love for bread without bread is the lover's food; whoever is sincere is not bound by existence.  
Lovers have no business with existence; lovers profit without capital.  
They fly around the world without wings; they win the race without hands.  
That poor man who found the scent of meaning wove baskets with severed hands.  
Lovers have pitched their tents in non-existence; like non-existence, they are of one color and one breath.  
How can a suckling child know the taste of food? The fairy has the scent of food and drink.  
How can a human perceive its scent when his nature is the opposite of its nature?  
The fairy who smells the scent finds it; you will not find it from a hundred measures of delicious food.  
To the Egyptian, the Nile's water was blood; to the Israelite, it was beautiful water.  
To the Israelites, the sea was a path; to Pharaoh's followers, it was a place of drowning.