Tattooing in Qazwin

In Qazwin, they have a custom of tattooing themselves 
for good luck, with a blue ink, on the back 
of the hand, the shoulder, wherever.

A certain man there goes to his barber
and asks to be given a powerful, heroic, blue lion 
on his shoulder blade. “And do it with flair! 
I've got Leo ascending. I want plenty of blue!"

But as soon as the needle starts pricking,
he howls,
              "What are you doing?"
                                               "The lion."
"Which limb did you start with?"
                                               "I began with the tail."
"Well, leave out the tail. That lion's rump
is in a bad place for me. It cuts off my wind."
The barber continues, and iminediately
the man yells out,
                           "Oooooooo! Which part now?"
                                                                       "The ear."
"Doc, let's do a lion with no ears this time."
                                                                The barber
shakes his head, and once more the needle, 
and once more the wailing,
                                        "Where are you now?"
                                                                         "The belly."
"I like a lion without a belly."
                                          The master lion-maker
stands for a long time with his fingers in his teeth. 
Finally, he throws the needle down.
                                                    "No one has ever
been asked to do such a thing! To create a lion 
without a tail or a head or a stomach.
God himself could not do it!"

Brother, stand the pain.
Escape the poison of your impulses.
The sky will bow to your beauty, if you do. 
Learn to light the candle. Rise with the sun. 
Turn away from the cave of your sleeping. 
That way a thorn expands to a rose. 
A particular glows with the universal.

What is it to praise? 
Make yourself particles.

What is it to know something of God? 
Burn inside that presence. Burn up.

Copper melts in the healing elixir. 
So melt your self in the mixture 
that sustains existence.

You tighten your two hands together,
determined not to give up saying "I" and "we." 
This tightening blocks you.