A certain person came to the Friend's door
and knocked.
'Who's there?'
'It's me.'
The Friend answered, 'Go away. There's no place
for raw meat at this table.'


The individual went wandering for a year.
Nothing but the fire of separation
can change hypocrisy and ego. The person returned
completely cooked,
walked up and down in front of the Friend's house,
gently knocked.
'Who is it?'
'You.'
'Please come in, my self,
there's no place in this house for two.
The doubled end of the thread is not what goes through
the eye of the needle.
It's a single-pointed, fined-down, thread end,
not a big ego-beast with baggage.'

Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-friends-10/