A book of verse underneath the bough,
A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou.
Beside me, singing in the wilderness,
O, Maui mist were paradise enow!”

I am Not, as some thought,
A ravening wolf, nor slithering snake speaking,
Though a wild, green man doth abide within this heart.

Don’t set a trap, don’t chain nor cage me more,
Or we may snarl at you.

We know the past,
How men like me,
Have hurt the women that we love,

We need your help,
To make amends,
And set the balance right.

Come on let’s dance, tonight.
We do not desire to dominate,
And so, if you choose, to dance with us,
We will share the lead with you.

Come on let’s dance,
We want to pull you tight,
Then spin and let you go.

Come on let’s dance,
And move as one,
To waltz across a floor,

Come on let’s dance, ecstatically,
Or contact improv too.
The dance, its ecstasy and agony
To our bodies, hearts and souls.

Hafiz has said of old,
That Allah knows only four words to speak.
Come dance with me.
Then, be.

[First set of verses paraphrased from Fitzgerald’s translation of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam]