It is the rule with drunkards to fall upon each other,
to quarrel, become violent, and make a scene.
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I've broken all broke into pieces now the hollowness pit of glass through the reflection or refraction I'm shattered; scattered everywhere nothing is for my; into me to grasp the dripping blood on the thin edge of glass or I am in danger..............
Metaphors n comparison is amusing......intoxication by wine n love both leads to same fate......
....thanks for giving me a laugh mr. rumi...over 700 years later and your poem still holds true today...
Omg! ! Every single poem of Rumi made my teary eyed