My teacher told me a story


My teacher once told me a story of a great saint,

of a perfect one, who wanted to travel around

his part of the world before he died and talk about

some spiritual matters to those would come to listen.


And when his men and he reached a certain

country he said to some of his companions,

'Sensuality is in fine shape here, maybe even

too fine shape, but my basic concern is that

we fit in well and that we get a few to listen to my

words which will plant seeds here for generations.

So I want you to employ twelve of the most beautiful

erotic dancers who can travel with us for the next

month as we tour this land".

So the dancers were employed, and from town

to town and city to city the great Master traveled.

The dancers would begin the show as it were,and

once a nice crowd had gathered the saint would

speak for just few minutes, then let the performers

resume their art.

My own Master then stopped the story, looked at

me in a very sweet and somewhat amused way,

then said

'Hafiz, don't forget the dancers in your poems'

Equally...

'ARCHITECTS, don't forget the dancers in your BUILDINGS'