A Persian Version of URGE

I have become imprisoned, O Beloved,
by the mole on your lip!
I looked in your sad eyes and became sick with love.
Delivered from self,
I beat the drum of ''I am the Real!''
Like al-Hallaj, I became a candidate
for the top of the gallows.
Heartache for the Beloved
has cut so many wounds into my soul
That I have been driven to despair
and become the talk of the bazaar!
Open the tavern door
and let's go there night and day,
For, weary of mosque and seminary,
I've stripped off my robes of asceticism and hypocrisy,
Cloaked myself like a tavern-haunting shaykh
and shamelessly seek the forbidden intoxicant.
The mullahs so tormented me
with their ignorant preachings
That I now find wisdom
in the talk of wine-drenched bums.
Leave me alone to consider
what I worshipped in the past,
I who have been awakened by the bartender's glass.

Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini (1902-1989)
translated by William Chittick
reworked by Nick Herbert

It's an old story:
Innately suspicious of official bull shit
The poet seeks out truth for himself.
More here, here and here.