Religion has been at the forefront of controversy, hatred and wars throughout all of recorded history. And there is no issue that has been more contentious than the name of The Creator.
Each of the major religions has, at its very core, the fundamental concept of an omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent Creator that is beyond the understanding of the limited minds of mankind.
Since these diverse cultures all agree that there is One Creator, a Creator whom we all honor, and whose ways we all strive to learn to live in harmony with, then isn't that a common bond that we should all share and celebrate?
Who can claim to know the "true" name of the That Which is beyond name and form? Is it even meaningful to try to name That Which is beyond name and form?
God, Khoda, Allah, Alaha, El, Elohim, Elat, Om, Jehova, Jah, Yahweh, Brahman, Ram, Krishna, Ahura Mazda, Tao... and many more, have all been used to refer to That Which is beyond name and form.
Nonetheless, words and names are only metaphors that we use to refer to something. The meaning is not inherent in the word, rather the meaning is something that is agreed upon. For example, each language has its own words for mother and father and for hot and cold... is it surprising then that each culture should have its own words to refer to the One?
There is only one God, and for those who find it difficult to say the name Allah, it may be helpful to note that in the Semitic language of Aramaic that Jesus probably spoke, the Aramaic name that is translated as God in the European bible was actually Alaha. Indeed, Allah of the Qur'an and Alaha of Jesus are the same One, there is only one God (and Arabic was largely derived from the earlier Aramaic, much the same as Aramaic was derived from the earlier Hebrew). However, the name God is a relatively new, and perhaps unfortunate, European invention that has been the source of much misunderstanding, fear and hatred.
Throughout recorded history, the differences of mankind have been used as excuses for crusades, wars and hatred. Must every generation fall prey to the same old foolishness, or is it finally time for a new understanding, an understanding based on The One who dwells in the inner depths of every human being?
May we all learn to celebrate the glory of the Divine Flame that glows in the heart of all beings.
May we learn as one great nation of mankind to celebrate the glory of our Beloved, the One who has created us all, rather than quarrel over our differences of opinion.
with love,
Parkash Goswami
Friday, September 10, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Other Mystical Poetry:
When the soul is plunged in the fire of divine love, like iron, it first
loses its blackness, and then growing to white heat it becomes like
unto the fire itself. And lastly, it grows liquid, and, losing its nature, is
transmuted into an utterly different quality of being. And as the difference
between iron that is cold and iron that is hot, so is the difference between
soul and soul, between the tepid soul and the soul made incandescent by
divine love.
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
loses its blackness, and then growing to white heat it becomes like
unto the fire itself. And lastly, it grows liquid, and, losing its nature, is
transmuted into an utterly different quality of being. And as the difference
between iron that is cold and iron that is hot, so is the difference between
soul and soul, between the tepid soul and the soul made incandescent by
divine love.
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
Moinuddin Chishti
Moinuddin Chishti (1141 - 1230 ce) born in Khorasan. A widely beloved Persian spiritual leader who carried the Chishti lineage to India.
The noise of the lover is only up to
the time when he has not seen his Beloved.
Once he sees the Beloved, he becomes calm and quiet,
just as the rivers are boisterous before they join the ocean,
but when they do so, there are becalmed forever.
~~
The one who knows becomes perfect only when
all else is removed from in-between him and the Friend.
Either he remains or the Friend.
~~
The noise of the lover is only up to
the time when he has not seen his Beloved.
Once he sees the Beloved, he becomes calm and quiet,
just as the rivers are boisterous before they join the ocean,
but when they do so, there are becalmed forever.
~~
The one who knows becomes perfect only when
all else is removed from in-between him and the Friend.
Either he remains or the Friend.
~~
Amir Khusrau
Amir Khusrau (1253 - 1325 ce ) Indian Sufi mystic, musician, poet and scholar. He was a spiritual disciple of Nizamuddin Auliya of Delhi, and is one of the most beloved poets of the Chishti Sufi lineage.
Love came and spread like blood in my veins and the skin of me,
It filled me with the Friend and completely emptied me.
The Friend has taken over all parts of my existence,
Only my name remains, as all is He.
~~
Love came and spread like blood in my veins and the skin of me,
It filled me with the Friend and completely emptied me.
The Friend has taken over all parts of my existence,
Only my name remains, as all is He.
~~
Sheikh Ansari Jabir ibn 'Abdullah al-Ansari
Sheikh Ansari Jabir ibn 'Abdullah al-Ansari (1006-1088 ce) He was called Sheikh al-Islam and he was also given the title Zayn al- 'Ulama (Ornament of the Scholars) and Nasir al-Sunnah (Supporter of the Prophetic Tradition). Later on in Persian texts he was called Pir-e Herat (the Sheikh of Herat).
Some of Ansari works include Kashf al-Asrar "Unveiling of the Secrets" (Commentary of the Qur'an), Tabaquat al-Sufiyya (The Generations of the Sufis), "Munajat" (Intimate Invocations) which is incorporated into the Kashf al-Asrar and in the Tabaqat.
'The Friend Beside Me'
O God
You know why I am happy:
It is because I seek Your company,
not through my own (efforts).
O God,
You decided and I did not.
I found the Friend beside me
when I woke up!
~~
'Where Are You?'
O God,
You are the aim of the call of the sincere,
You enlighten the souls of the friends, (and)
You are the comfort of the hearts of the travellers---
because You are present in the very soul.
I call out, from emotion:
"Where are you?"
You are the life of the soul,
You are the rule (ayin) of speech, (and)
You are Your own interpreter (tarjaman).
For the sake of Your obligation to Yourself,
do not enter us into the shade of deception, (but)
make us reach union (wisal) with You.
~~
'Pursuit of the Friend'
The heart left,
and the Friend is (also) gone.
I don't know whether I should go after the Friend
or after the heart!
A voice spoke to me:
"Go in pursuit of the Friend,
because the lover needs a heart
in order to find union with the Friend.
If there was no Friend,
what would (the lover) do with (his) heart?"
~~
'The Beauty of Oneness'
Any eye filled with the vision of this world
cannot see the attributes of the Hereafter,
Any eye filled with the attributes of the Hereafter
would be deprived of the Beauty (Jamal) of (Divine) Oneness.
~~
'In Each Breath'
O you who have departed from your own self,
and who have not yet reached the Friend:
do not be sad, (for)
He is accompanying you in each of (your) breaths.
Some of Ansari works include Kashf al-Asrar "Unveiling of the Secrets" (Commentary of the Qur'an), Tabaquat al-Sufiyya (The Generations of the Sufis), "Munajat" (Intimate Invocations) which is incorporated into the Kashf al-Asrar and in the Tabaqat.
'The Friend Beside Me'
O God
You know why I am happy:
It is because I seek Your company,
not through my own (efforts).
O God,
You decided and I did not.
I found the Friend beside me
when I woke up!
~~
'Where Are You?'
O God,
You are the aim of the call of the sincere,
You enlighten the souls of the friends, (and)
You are the comfort of the hearts of the travellers---
because You are present in the very soul.
I call out, from emotion:
"Where are you?"
You are the life of the soul,
You are the rule (ayin) of speech, (and)
You are Your own interpreter (tarjaman).
For the sake of Your obligation to Yourself,
do not enter us into the shade of deception, (but)
make us reach union (wisal) with You.
~~
'Pursuit of the Friend'
The heart left,
and the Friend is (also) gone.
I don't know whether I should go after the Friend
or after the heart!
A voice spoke to me:
"Go in pursuit of the Friend,
because the lover needs a heart
in order to find union with the Friend.
If there was no Friend,
what would (the lover) do with (his) heart?"
~~
'The Beauty of Oneness'
Any eye filled with the vision of this world
cannot see the attributes of the Hereafter,
Any eye filled with the attributes of the Hereafter
would be deprived of the Beauty (Jamal) of (Divine) Oneness.
~~
'In Each Breath'
O you who have departed from your own self,
and who have not yet reached the Friend:
do not be sad, (for)
He is accompanying you in each of (your) breaths.
Sa'd al-din Mahmud Shabistari
Sa'd al-din Mahmud Shabistari(1288 - 1340 ce) is one of the most celebrated authors of Persian Sufism. Because of his gift for expressing the Sufi mystical vision with extraordinary clarity, his Gulshan-i raz or Secret Rose Garden rapidly became one of the most popular works of Persian Sufi poetry.
Go sweep out the chamber of your heart.
Make it ready to be the dwelling place of the Beloved.
When you depart out, He will enter it.
In you, void of yourself, will He display His beauties.
~~
'One Light'
What are "I" and "You"?
Just lattices
In the niches of a lamp
Through which the One Light radiates.
"I" and "You" are the veil
Between heaven and earth;
Lift this veil and you will see
How all sects and religions are one.
Lift this veil and you will ask---
When "I" and "You" do not exist
What is mosque?
What is synagogue?
What is fire temple?
Go sweep out the chamber of your heart.
Make it ready to be the dwelling place of the Beloved.
When you depart out, He will enter it.
In you, void of yourself, will He display His beauties.
~~
'One Light'
What are "I" and "You"?
Just lattices
In the niches of a lamp
Through which the One Light radiates.
"I" and "You" are the veil
Between heaven and earth;
Lift this veil and you will see
How all sects and religions are one.
Lift this veil and you will ask---
When "I" and "You" do not exist
What is mosque?
What is synagogue?
What is fire temple?
Yunus Emre
The drink sent down from Truth,
we drank it, glory be to God.
And we sailed over the Ocean of Power,
glory be to God.
Beyond those hills and oak woods,
beyond those vineyards and gardens,
we passed in health and joy, glory be to God.
We were dry, but we moistened.
We grew wings and became birds,
we married one another and flew,
glory be to God.
To whatever lands we came,
in whatever hearts, in all humanity,
we planted the meanings Taptuk taught us,
glory be to God.
Come here, let's make peace,
let's not be strangers to one another.
We have saddled the horse
and trained it, glory be to God.
We became a trickle that grew into a river.
We took flight and drove into the sea,
and then we overflowed, glory be to God.
We became servants at Taptuk's door.
Poor Yunus, raw and tasteless,
finally got cooked, glory be to God.
~~
Ask those who know,
what's this soul within the flesh?
Reality's own power.
What blood fills these veins?
Thought is an errand boy,
fear a mine of worries.
These sighs are love's clothing.
Who is the Khan on the throne?
Give thanks for His unity.
He created when nothing existed.
And since we are actually nothing,
what are all of Solomon's riches?
Ask Yunus and Taptuk
what the world means to them..
The world won't last.
What are You? What am I?
~~
We entered the house of realization,
we witnessed the body.
The whirling skies, the many-layered earth,
the seventy-thousand veils,
we found in the body.
The night and the day, the planets,
the words inscribed on the Holy Tablets,
the hill that Moses climbed, the Temple,
and Israfil's trumpet, we observed in the body.
Torah, Psalms, Gospel, Quran-
what these books have to say,
we found in the body.
Everybody says these words of Yunus
are true. Truth is wherever you want it.
We found it all within the body.
~~
I am before, I am after
The soul for all souls all the way.
I'm the one with a helping hand
Ready for those gone wild, astray.
I made the ground flat where it lies,
On it I had those mountains rise,
I designed the vault of the shies,
For I hold all things in my sway.
To countless lovers I have been
A guide for faith and religion.
I am sacrilege in men's hearts
Also the true faith and Islam's way.
I make men love peace and unite;
Putting down the black words on white,
I wrote the four holy books right
I'm the Koran for those who pray.
It's not Yunus who says all this:
It speaks its own realities:
To doubt this would be blasphemous:
"I'm before-I'm after," I say
~~
Your love has wrested me away from me,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Day and night I burn, gripped by agony,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
I find no great joy in being alive,
If I cease to exist, I would not grieve,
The only solace I have is your love,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Lovers yearn for you, but your love slays them,
At the bottom of the sea it lays them,
It has God's images-it displays them;
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Let me drink the wine of love sip by sip,
Like Mecnun, live in the hills in hardship,
Day and night, care for you holds me in its grip,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Even if, at the end, they make me die
And scatter my ashes up to the shy,
My pit would break into this outcry:
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
"Yunus Emre the mystic" is my name,
Each passing day fans and rouses my flame,
What I desire in both worlds in the same:
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
we drank it, glory be to God.
And we sailed over the Ocean of Power,
glory be to God.
Beyond those hills and oak woods,
beyond those vineyards and gardens,
we passed in health and joy, glory be to God.
We were dry, but we moistened.
We grew wings and became birds,
we married one another and flew,
glory be to God.
To whatever lands we came,
in whatever hearts, in all humanity,
we planted the meanings Taptuk taught us,
glory be to God.
Come here, let's make peace,
let's not be strangers to one another.
We have saddled the horse
and trained it, glory be to God.
We became a trickle that grew into a river.
We took flight and drove into the sea,
and then we overflowed, glory be to God.
We became servants at Taptuk's door.
Poor Yunus, raw and tasteless,
finally got cooked, glory be to God.
~~
Ask those who know,
what's this soul within the flesh?
Reality's own power.
What blood fills these veins?
Thought is an errand boy,
fear a mine of worries.
These sighs are love's clothing.
Who is the Khan on the throne?
Give thanks for His unity.
He created when nothing existed.
And since we are actually nothing,
what are all of Solomon's riches?
Ask Yunus and Taptuk
what the world means to them..
The world won't last.
What are You? What am I?
~~
We entered the house of realization,
we witnessed the body.
The whirling skies, the many-layered earth,
the seventy-thousand veils,
we found in the body.
The night and the day, the planets,
the words inscribed on the Holy Tablets,
the hill that Moses climbed, the Temple,
and Israfil's trumpet, we observed in the body.
Torah, Psalms, Gospel, Quran-
what these books have to say,
we found in the body.
Everybody says these words of Yunus
are true. Truth is wherever you want it.
We found it all within the body.
~~
I am before, I am after
The soul for all souls all the way.
I'm the one with a helping hand
Ready for those gone wild, astray.
I made the ground flat where it lies,
On it I had those mountains rise,
I designed the vault of the shies,
For I hold all things in my sway.
To countless lovers I have been
A guide for faith and religion.
I am sacrilege in men's hearts
Also the true faith and Islam's way.
I make men love peace and unite;
Putting down the black words on white,
I wrote the four holy books right
I'm the Koran for those who pray.
It's not Yunus who says all this:
It speaks its own realities:
To doubt this would be blasphemous:
"I'm before-I'm after," I say
~~
Your love has wrested me away from me,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Day and night I burn, gripped by agony,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
I find no great joy in being alive,
If I cease to exist, I would not grieve,
The only solace I have is your love,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Lovers yearn for you, but your love slays them,
At the bottom of the sea it lays them,
It has God's images-it displays them;
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Let me drink the wine of love sip by sip,
Like Mecnun, live in the hills in hardship,
Day and night, care for you holds me in its grip,
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Even if, at the end, they make me die
And scatter my ashes up to the shy,
My pit would break into this outcry:
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
"Yunus Emre the mystic" is my name,
Each passing day fans and rouses my flame,
What I desire in both worlds in the same:
You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
Sanai
Sanai (1118 -1152 ce) (Abû'l-Majd Majdûd b. Adam Sanâ'î) is revered as one of the first great mystical poets of Persia. He produced many lyrical poems and a religious epic, The Walled Garden of Truth.
Don't speak of your suffering -- He is speaking.
Don't look for Him everywhere -- He's looking for you.
An ant's foot touches a leaf, He senses it;
A pebble shifts in a streambed, He knows it.
If there's a worm hidden deep in a rock,
He'll know its body, tinier than an atom,
The sound of its praise, its secret ecstasy --
All this He knows by divine knowing.
He has given the tiniest worm its food;
He has opened to you the Way of the Holy Ones.
~~
'The Puzzle'
Someone who keeps aloof from suffering
is not a lover. I choose your love
above all else. As for wealth
if that comes, or goes, so be it.
Wealth and love inhabit separate worlds.
But as long as you live here inside me,
I cannot say that I am suffering.
~~
'The Way of the Holy Ones'
Don't speak of your suffering -- He is speaking.
Don't look for Him everywhere -- He's looking for you.
An ant's foot touches a leaf, He senses it;
A pebble shifts in a streambed, He knows it.
If there's a worm hidden deep in a rock,
He'll know its body, tinier than an atom,
The sound of its praise, its secret ecstasy --
All this He knows by divine knowing.
He has given the tiniest worm its food;
He has opened to you the Way of the Holy Ones.
~~
Those unable to grieve,
or to speak of their love,
or to be grateful, those
who can't remember God
as the source of everything,
might be described as a vacant wind,
or a cold anvil, or a group
of frightened old people.
Say the Name. Moisten your tongue
with praise, and be the spring ground,
waking. Let your mouth be given
its gold-yellow stamen like the wild rose's.
As you fill with wisdom,
and your heart with love,
there's no more thirst.
There's only unselfed patience
waiting on the doorsill, a silence
which doesn't listen to advice
from people passing in the street.
Don't speak of your suffering -- He is speaking.
Don't look for Him everywhere -- He's looking for you.
An ant's foot touches a leaf, He senses it;
A pebble shifts in a streambed, He knows it.
If there's a worm hidden deep in a rock,
He'll know its body, tinier than an atom,
The sound of its praise, its secret ecstasy --
All this He knows by divine knowing.
He has given the tiniest worm its food;
He has opened to you the Way of the Holy Ones.
~~
'The Puzzle'
Someone who keeps aloof from suffering
is not a lover. I choose your love
above all else. As for wealth
if that comes, or goes, so be it.
Wealth and love inhabit separate worlds.
But as long as you live here inside me,
I cannot say that I am suffering.
~~
'The Way of the Holy Ones'
Don't speak of your suffering -- He is speaking.
Don't look for Him everywhere -- He's looking for you.
An ant's foot touches a leaf, He senses it;
A pebble shifts in a streambed, He knows it.
If there's a worm hidden deep in a rock,
He'll know its body, tinier than an atom,
The sound of its praise, its secret ecstasy --
All this He knows by divine knowing.
He has given the tiniest worm its food;
He has opened to you the Way of the Holy Ones.
~~
Those unable to grieve,
or to speak of their love,
or to be grateful, those
who can't remember God
as the source of everything,
might be described as a vacant wind,
or a cold anvil, or a group
of frightened old people.
Say the Name. Moisten your tongue
with praise, and be the spring ground,
waking. Let your mouth be given
its gold-yellow stamen like the wild rose's.
As you fill with wisdom,
and your heart with love,
there's no more thirst.
There's only unselfed patience
waiting on the doorsill, a silence
which doesn't listen to advice
from people passing in the street.
Saadi of Shiraz
Saadi of Shiraz (1215 -1292 ce), a great poet of Persia, author of the Gulistan (Rose-Garden) and the Bostan (Orchard), who also wrote many odes and lyrics.
O bird of the morning, learn love from the moth
Because it burnt, lost its life, and found no voice.
These pretenders are ignorantly in search of Him,
Because he who obtained knowledge has not returned.
~~
How could I ever thank my Friend?
No thanks could ever begin to be worthy.
Every hair of my body is a gift from Him;
How could I thank Him for each hair?
Praise that lavish Lord forever
Who from nothing conjures all living beings!
Who could ever describe His goodness?
His infinite glory lays all praise waste.
Look, He has graced you a robe of splendor
>From childhood's first cries to old age!
He made you pure in His own image; stay pure.
It is horrible to die blackened by sin.
Never let dust settle on your mirror's shining;
Let it once grow dull and it will never polish.
When you work in the world to earn your living
Do not, for one moment, rely on your own strength.
Self-worshiper, don't you understand anything yet?
It is God alone that gives your arms their power.
If, by your striving, you achieve something good,
Don't claim the credit all for yourself;
It is fate that decides who wins and who loses
And all success streams only from the grace of God.
In this world you never stand by your own strength;
It is the Invisible that sustains you every moment.
O bird of the morning, learn love from the moth
Because it burnt, lost its life, and found no voice.
These pretenders are ignorantly in search of Him,
Because he who obtained knowledge has not returned.
~~
How could I ever thank my Friend?
No thanks could ever begin to be worthy.
Every hair of my body is a gift from Him;
How could I thank Him for each hair?
Praise that lavish Lord forever
Who from nothing conjures all living beings!
Who could ever describe His goodness?
His infinite glory lays all praise waste.
Look, He has graced you a robe of splendor
>From childhood's first cries to old age!
He made you pure in His own image; stay pure.
It is horrible to die blackened by sin.
Never let dust settle on your mirror's shining;
Let it once grow dull and it will never polish.
When you work in the world to earn your living
Do not, for one moment, rely on your own strength.
Self-worshiper, don't you understand anything yet?
It is God alone that gives your arms their power.
If, by your striving, you achieve something good,
Don't claim the credit all for yourself;
It is fate that decides who wins and who loses
And all success streams only from the grace of God.
In this world you never stand by your own strength;
It is the Invisible that sustains you every moment.
Jelaluddin Rumi
Jelaluddin Rumi (1207-1273 ce) saint and mystic, inspiration for the Mevlevi Order of the whirling dervishes, highly revered for the great Mathnawi which is a grand tribute to the depth of spiritual life.
The Jesus of your spirit is inside you now.
Ask that one for help, but don't ask for body-things...
Don't ask Moses for provisions
that you can get from Pharaoh.
Don't worry so much about livelihood.
Your livelihood will turn out as it should.
Be constantly occupied instead
with listening to God.
~~
Listen for the stream
that tells you one thing.
Die on this bank.
Begin in me
the way of rivers with the sea.
~~
You've no idea how hard I've looked for a gift to bring You.
Nothing seemed right.
What's the point of bringing gold to the gold mine, or water to the Ocean.
Everything I came up with was like taking spices to the Orient.
It's no good giving my heart and my soul because you already have these.
So- I've brought you a mirror.
Look at yourself and remember me.
~~
Longing is the core of mystery.
Longing itself brings the cure.
The only rule is, Suffer the pain.
Your desire must be disciplined,
and what you want to happen
in time, sacrificed.
~~
Oh! Supreme Lover!
Let me leave aside my worries.
The flowers are blooming
with the exultation of your Spirit.
By Allah!
I long to escape the prison of my ego
and lose myself
in the mountains and the desert.
These sad and lonely people tire me.
I long to revel in the drunken frenzy of your love
and feel the strength of Rustam in my hands.
I'm sick of mortal kings.
I long to see your light.
With lamps in hand
the sheikhs and mullahs roam
the dark alleys of these towns
not finding what they seek.
You are the Essence of the Essence,
The intoxication of Love.
I long to sing your praises
but stand mute
with the agony of wishing in my heart.
~~
Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape.
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
You're covered with a thick cloud.
Slide out the side. Die,
and be quiet. Quiteness is the surest sign
that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.
The speechless full moon
comes out now.
~~
The Morning Wind Spreads
The morning wind spreads its fresh smell.
We must get up and take that in,
that wind that lets us live.
Breathe before it's gone.
~~
Everyone is overridden by thoughts;
that's why they have so much heartache and sorrow.
At times I give myself up to thought purposefully;
but when I choose,
I spring up from those under its sway.
I am like a high-flying bird,
and thought is a gnat:
how should a gnat overpower me?
~~
I wonder
from these thousand of "me's",
which one am I?
Listen to my cry, do not drown my voice
I am completely filled with the thought of you.
Don't lay broken glass on my path
I will crush it into dust.
I am nothing, just a mirror in the palm of your hand,
reflecting your kindness, your sadness, your anger.
If you were a blade of grass or a tiny flower
I will pitch my tent in your shadow.
Only your presence revives my withered heart.
You are the candle that lights the whole world
and I am an empty vessel for your light.
~~
Happy the moment when we are seated in the Palace, thou and I,
With two forms and with two figures but with one soul, thou and I.
The colours of the grove and the voice of the birds will bestow immortality
At the time when we come into the garden, thou and I.
The stars of heaven will come to gaze upon us;
We shall show them the Moon itself, thou and I.
Thou and I, individuals no more, shall be mingled in ecstasy,
Joyful and secure from foolish babble, thou and I.
All the bright-plumed birds of heaven will devour their hearts with envy
In the place where we shall laugh in such a fashion, thou and I.
This is the greatest wonder, that thou and I, sitting here in the same nook,
Are at this moment both in ‘Iraq and Khorasan, thou and I.
~~
Awakened by your love,
I flicker like a candle's light
tryin to hold on in the dark.
Yet, you spare me no blows
and keep asking,
"Why do you complain?"
~~
My heart tells me it is distressed with Him,
but I can only laugh at such pretended injuries.
Be fair, You who are the Glory of the just.
You, Soul, free of "we" and "I,"
subtle spirit within each man and woman.
When a man and a woman become one,
that "one" is You.
And when that one is obliterated, there You are.
Where is this "we" and this "I"?
By the side of the Beloved.
You made this "we" and this "I"
in order that you might play
this game of courtship with Yourself,
that all "you's" and "I's" might become one soul
and finally drown in the Beloved.
All this is true. Come!
You who are the Creative Word: Be
You, so far beyond description.
Is it possible for the bodily eyes to see You?
Can thought comprehend Your laughter or grief?
Tell me now, can it possibly see You at all?
Such a heart has only borrowed things to live with.
The garden of love is green without limit
and yields many fruits other than sorrow or joy.
Love is beyond either condition:
without spring, without autumn, it is always fresh.
The Jesus of your spirit is inside you now.
Ask that one for help, but don't ask for body-things...
Don't ask Moses for provisions
that you can get from Pharaoh.
Don't worry so much about livelihood.
Your livelihood will turn out as it should.
Be constantly occupied instead
with listening to God.
~~
Listen for the stream
that tells you one thing.
Die on this bank.
Begin in me
the way of rivers with the sea.
~~
You've no idea how hard I've looked for a gift to bring You.
Nothing seemed right.
What's the point of bringing gold to the gold mine, or water to the Ocean.
Everything I came up with was like taking spices to the Orient.
It's no good giving my heart and my soul because you already have these.
So- I've brought you a mirror.
Look at yourself and remember me.
~~
Longing is the core of mystery.
Longing itself brings the cure.
The only rule is, Suffer the pain.
Your desire must be disciplined,
and what you want to happen
in time, sacrificed.
~~
Oh! Supreme Lover!
Let me leave aside my worries.
The flowers are blooming
with the exultation of your Spirit.
By Allah!
I long to escape the prison of my ego
and lose myself
in the mountains and the desert.
These sad and lonely people tire me.
I long to revel in the drunken frenzy of your love
and feel the strength of Rustam in my hands.
I'm sick of mortal kings.
I long to see your light.
With lamps in hand
the sheikhs and mullahs roam
the dark alleys of these towns
not finding what they seek.
You are the Essence of the Essence,
The intoxication of Love.
I long to sing your praises
but stand mute
with the agony of wishing in my heart.
~~
Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape.
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
You're covered with a thick cloud.
Slide out the side. Die,
and be quiet. Quiteness is the surest sign
that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.
The speechless full moon
comes out now.
~~
The Morning Wind Spreads
The morning wind spreads its fresh smell.
We must get up and take that in,
that wind that lets us live.
Breathe before it's gone.
~~
Everyone is overridden by thoughts;
that's why they have so much heartache and sorrow.
At times I give myself up to thought purposefully;
but when I choose,
I spring up from those under its sway.
I am like a high-flying bird,
and thought is a gnat:
how should a gnat overpower me?
~~
I wonder
from these thousand of "me's",
which one am I?
Listen to my cry, do not drown my voice
I am completely filled with the thought of you.
Don't lay broken glass on my path
I will crush it into dust.
I am nothing, just a mirror in the palm of your hand,
reflecting your kindness, your sadness, your anger.
If you were a blade of grass or a tiny flower
I will pitch my tent in your shadow.
Only your presence revives my withered heart.
You are the candle that lights the whole world
and I am an empty vessel for your light.
~~
Happy the moment when we are seated in the Palace, thou and I,
With two forms and with two figures but with one soul, thou and I.
The colours of the grove and the voice of the birds will bestow immortality
At the time when we come into the garden, thou and I.
The stars of heaven will come to gaze upon us;
We shall show them the Moon itself, thou and I.
Thou and I, individuals no more, shall be mingled in ecstasy,
Joyful and secure from foolish babble, thou and I.
All the bright-plumed birds of heaven will devour their hearts with envy
In the place where we shall laugh in such a fashion, thou and I.
This is the greatest wonder, that thou and I, sitting here in the same nook,
Are at this moment both in ‘Iraq and Khorasan, thou and I.
~~
Awakened by your love,
I flicker like a candle's light
tryin to hold on in the dark.
Yet, you spare me no blows
and keep asking,
"Why do you complain?"
~~
My heart tells me it is distressed with Him,
but I can only laugh at such pretended injuries.
Be fair, You who are the Glory of the just.
You, Soul, free of "we" and "I,"
subtle spirit within each man and woman.
When a man and a woman become one,
that "one" is You.
And when that one is obliterated, there You are.
Where is this "we" and this "I"?
By the side of the Beloved.
You made this "we" and this "I"
in order that you might play
this game of courtship with Yourself,
that all "you's" and "I's" might become one soul
and finally drown in the Beloved.
All this is true. Come!
You who are the Creative Word: Be
You, so far beyond description.
Is it possible for the bodily eyes to see You?
Can thought comprehend Your laughter or grief?
Tell me now, can it possibly see You at all?
Such a heart has only borrowed things to live with.
The garden of love is green without limit
and yields many fruits other than sorrow or joy.
Love is beyond either condition:
without spring, without autumn, it is always fresh.
Jami
Jami (1414 - 1492 ce) (Nur al-Din 'Abd al-Rahman ibn Ahmad al-Jami) commonly called the last great classical poet of Persia, saint and mystic, composed numerous lyrics and idylls, as well as many works in prose. His Salaman and Absal is an allegory of profane and sacred love. Some of his other works include Haft Awrang, Tuhfat al-Ahrar, Layla wa -Majnun, Fatihat al-Shabab, Lawa'ih, al-Durrah al-Fakhirah.
~~
Who is man?
The reflection of the Eternal Light.
What is the world?
A wave on the Everlasting Sea.
How could the reflection be cut off from the Light?
How could the wave be separate from the Sea?
Know that this reflection and this wave are that very Light and Sea.
~~
Hidden behind the veil of mystery, Beauty is eternally free from the slightest stain of imperfection. From the atoms of the world, He created a multitude of mirrors; into each one of them He cast the image of His Face; to the awakened eye, anything that appears beautiful is only a reflection of that Face.
Now that you have seen the reflection, hurry to its Source; in that primordial Light the reflection vanishes completely. Do not linger far from that primal Source; when the reflection fades, you will be lost in darkness. The reflection is as transient as the smile of a rose; if you want permanence, turn towards the Source; if you want fidelity, look to the Mine of faithfulness. Why tear your soul apart over something here one moment and gone the next?
~~
Whether your destiny is glory or disgrace,
Purify yourself of hatred and love of self.
Polish your mirror; and that sublime Beauty
From the regions of mystery
Will flame out in your heart
As it did for the saints and prophets.
Then, with your heart on fire with that Splendor,
The secret of the Beloved will no longer be hidden.
~~
Who is man?
The reflection of the Eternal Light.
What is the world?
A wave on the Everlasting Sea.
How could the reflection be cut off from the Light?
How could the wave be separate from the Sea?
Know that this reflection and this wave are that very Light and Sea.
~~
Hidden behind the veil of mystery, Beauty is eternally free from the slightest stain of imperfection. From the atoms of the world, He created a multitude of mirrors; into each one of them He cast the image of His Face; to the awakened eye, anything that appears beautiful is only a reflection of that Face.
Now that you have seen the reflection, hurry to its Source; in that primordial Light the reflection vanishes completely. Do not linger far from that primal Source; when the reflection fades, you will be lost in darkness. The reflection is as transient as the smile of a rose; if you want permanence, turn towards the Source; if you want fidelity, look to the Mine of faithfulness. Why tear your soul apart over something here one moment and gone the next?
~~
Whether your destiny is glory or disgrace,
Purify yourself of hatred and love of self.
Polish your mirror; and that sublime Beauty
From the regions of mystery
Will flame out in your heart
As it did for the saints and prophets.
Then, with your heart on fire with that Splendor,
The secret of the Beloved will no longer be hidden.
Hafiz of Shiraz
Hafiz of Shiraz (1230-91 ce) the greatest lyric poet of Persia, who took the poetic form of the ghazal to unparalleled heights of subtlety and beauty.
I speak frankly and that makes me happy:
I am the slave of love, I am free of both worlds.
I am a bird from heaven's garden. How do I describe that separation,
my fall into this snare of accidents?
I was an angel and highest paradise was my place.
Adam brought me to this monastery in the city of ruin.
The hours' caress, the pool and shade trees of paradise
were forgotten in the breeze from your alleyway.
There is nothing on the tablet of my heart but my love's tall alif.
What can I do? My master taught me no other letter.
No astrologer knew the constellations of my fate.
O lord, when I was born of mother earth which stars were rising?
Ever since I became a slave at the door of love's tavern
sorrows come to me each moment with congratulations.
The pupil of my eye drains the blood from my heart.
I deserve it. Why did I give my heart to the darling of others?
Wipe the tears from Hafiz's face with soft curls
or else this endless torrent will uproot me.
~~
The sun
Won a beauty contest and became a jewel
Set upon God’s right hand.
The earth agreed to be a toe ring on the
Beloved’s foot
And has never regretted its decision.
The mountains got tired
Of sitting amongst a sleeping audience
And are now stretching their arms
Toward the Roof.
The clouds gave my soul an idea
So I pawned my gills
And rose like a winged diamond
Ever trying to be near
More love, more love
Like you.
The Mountain got tired of sitting
Amongst a snoring crowd inside of me
And rose like a rip sun
Into my eye.
My soul gave my heart a brilliant idea
So Hafiz is rising like a
Winged diamond.
~~
We are the guardians of His Beauty
We are the protectors
Of the Sun.
There is only one reason
We have followed God into this world:
To encourage laughter, freedom, dance
And love.
Let a noble cry inside of you speak to me
Saying,
"Hafiz,
Don't just sit there on the moon tonight
Doing nothing -
Help unfurl my heart into the Friend's Mind,
Help, Old Man, to heal my wounded wings!"
We are the companions of His Beauty
We are the guardians
Of Truth.
Every man, plant and creature in Existence,
Every woman, child, vein and note
Is a servant of our Beloved -
A harbinger of joy,
The harbinger of
Light.
~~
Mortal never won to view thee,
Yet a thousand lovers woo thee;
Not a nightingale but knows
In the rose-bud sleeps the rose.
Love is where the glory falls
Of thy face: on convent walls
Or on tavern floors the same
Unextinguishable flame.
Where the turban'd anchorite
Chanteth Allah day and night,
Church-bells ring the call to prayer,
And the Cross of Christ is there.
Come,
let's scatter roses and pour wine in the glass;
we'll shatter heaven's roof and lay a new foundation.
If sorrow raises armies to shed the blood of lovers,
I'll join with the wine bearer so we can overthrow them.
With a sweet string at hand, play a sweet song, my friend,
so we can clap and sing a song and lose our heads in dancing.
I speak frankly and that makes me happy:
I am the slave of love, I am free of both worlds.
I am a bird from heaven's garden. How do I describe that separation,
my fall into this snare of accidents?
I was an angel and highest paradise was my place.
Adam brought me to this monastery in the city of ruin.
The hours' caress, the pool and shade trees of paradise
were forgotten in the breeze from your alleyway.
There is nothing on the tablet of my heart but my love's tall alif.
What can I do? My master taught me no other letter.
No astrologer knew the constellations of my fate.
O lord, when I was born of mother earth which stars were rising?
Ever since I became a slave at the door of love's tavern
sorrows come to me each moment with congratulations.
The pupil of my eye drains the blood from my heart.
I deserve it. Why did I give my heart to the darling of others?
Wipe the tears from Hafiz's face with soft curls
or else this endless torrent will uproot me.
~~
The sun
Won a beauty contest and became a jewel
Set upon God’s right hand.
The earth agreed to be a toe ring on the
Beloved’s foot
And has never regretted its decision.
The mountains got tired
Of sitting amongst a sleeping audience
And are now stretching their arms
Toward the Roof.
The clouds gave my soul an idea
So I pawned my gills
And rose like a winged diamond
Ever trying to be near
More love, more love
Like you.
The Mountain got tired of sitting
Amongst a snoring crowd inside of me
And rose like a rip sun
Into my eye.
My soul gave my heart a brilliant idea
So Hafiz is rising like a
Winged diamond.
~~
We are the guardians of His Beauty
We are the protectors
Of the Sun.
There is only one reason
We have followed God into this world:
To encourage laughter, freedom, dance
And love.
Let a noble cry inside of you speak to me
Saying,
"Hafiz,
Don't just sit there on the moon tonight
Doing nothing -
Help unfurl my heart into the Friend's Mind,
Help, Old Man, to heal my wounded wings!"
We are the companions of His Beauty
We are the guardians
Of Truth.
Every man, plant and creature in Existence,
Every woman, child, vein and note
Is a servant of our Beloved -
A harbinger of joy,
The harbinger of
Light.
~~
Mortal never won to view thee,
Yet a thousand lovers woo thee;
Not a nightingale but knows
In the rose-bud sleeps the rose.
Love is where the glory falls
Of thy face: on convent walls
Or on tavern floors the same
Unextinguishable flame.
Where the turban'd anchorite
Chanteth Allah day and night,
Church-bells ring the call to prayer,
And the Cross of Christ is there.
Come,
let's scatter roses and pour wine in the glass;
we'll shatter heaven's roof and lay a new foundation.
If sorrow raises armies to shed the blood of lovers,
I'll join with the wine bearer so we can overthrow them.
With a sweet string at hand, play a sweet song, my friend,
so we can clap and sing a song and lose our heads in dancing.
Attar of Nishapur
Attar of Nishapur (1145 - 1221 ce) saint and mystic, one of the most voluminous authors in Persian literature on religious topics. His best-known work, Conference of the Birds, is an elaborate allegory of the soul's quest for reunion with God
So long as we do not die to ourselves,
and so long as we identify with someone or something,
we shall never be free.
The spiritual way is not for those wrapped up in exterior life.
~~
Strive to discover the mystery before life is taken from you.
If while living you fail to find yourself, to know yourself,
how will you be able to understand
the secret of your existence when you die?
~~
Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.
From each a mystic silence Love demands.
What do all seek so earnestly? 'Tis Love.
What do they whisper to each other? Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts.
In Love no longer 'thou' and 'I' exist,
For Self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul,
Behold the Friend; Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds,
Will find the secret of them both, is Love.
~~
In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, "This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers."
~~
The whole world is a marketplace for Love,
For naught that is, from Love remains remote.
The Eternal Wisdom made all things in Love.
On Love they all depend, to Love all turn.
The earth, the heavens, the sun, the moon, the stars
The center of their orbit find in Love.
By Love are all bewildered, stupefied,
Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.
From each, Love demands a mystic silence.
What do all seek so earnestly? "Tis Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts,
In Love no longer "Thou" and "I" exist,
For self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul
Behold the Friend, Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds
Will find that the secret of them both is Love.
~~
Four Things to Know
Hatim al-Asamm said, "I have chosen four things to know
and discarded all other things of knowledge.
"The first is this: I know that my daily bread is apportioned
to me and will neither be increased or decreased, so I have stopped
trying to add to it.
"Secondly, I know I owe to God a debt which no one else can
pay for me, so I am busy about paying it.
"Thirdly, I know that there is someone pursuing me ---
Death --- whom I cannot escape from, so I have prepared myself
to meet him.
"Fourth, I know that God is observing me, so I am ashamed
to do what I should not."
~~
In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, "This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers."
So long as we do not die to ourselves,
and so long as we identify with someone or something,
we shall never be free.
The spiritual way is not for those wrapped up in exterior life.
~~
Strive to discover the mystery before life is taken from you.
If while living you fail to find yourself, to know yourself,
how will you be able to understand
the secret of your existence when you die?
~~
Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.
From each a mystic silence Love demands.
What do all seek so earnestly? 'Tis Love.
What do they whisper to each other? Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts.
In Love no longer 'thou' and 'I' exist,
For Self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul,
Behold the Friend; Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds,
Will find the secret of them both, is Love.
~~
In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, "This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers."
~~
The whole world is a marketplace for Love,
For naught that is, from Love remains remote.
The Eternal Wisdom made all things in Love.
On Love they all depend, to Love all turn.
The earth, the heavens, the sun, the moon, the stars
The center of their orbit find in Love.
By Love are all bewildered, stupefied,
Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.
From each, Love demands a mystic silence.
What do all seek so earnestly? "Tis Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts,
In Love no longer "Thou" and "I" exist,
For self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul
Behold the Friend, Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds
Will find that the secret of them both is Love.
~~
Four Things to Know
Hatim al-Asamm said, "I have chosen four things to know
and discarded all other things of knowledge.
"The first is this: I know that my daily bread is apportioned
to me and will neither be increased or decreased, so I have stopped
trying to add to it.
"Secondly, I know I owe to God a debt which no one else can
pay for me, so I am busy about paying it.
"Thirdly, I know that there is someone pursuing me ---
Death --- whom I cannot escape from, so I have prepared myself
to meet him.
"Fourth, I know that God is observing me, so I am ashamed
to do what I should not."
~~
In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, "This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers."
Bulleh Shah
Chal Way Bullehya Chal O'thay Chaliyay
Jithay Saaray Annay
Na Koi Saadee Zaat PichHanay
Tay Na Koi Saanu Mannay
O' Bulleh Shah let's go there
Where everyone is blind
Where no one recognizes our caste (or race, or family name)
And where no one believes in us
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Masjid Dha Day, Mandir Dha Day
Dha Day Jo Kujh Disda
Par Kissay Da Dil Na Dhawee(n)
Rub Dilaa(n) Wich Wasda
Tear down the Mosque, tear down the temple
Tear down every thing in sight
But don't (tear down) break anyone's heart
Because God lives there
Jithay Saaray Annay
Na Koi Saadee Zaat PichHanay
Tay Na Koi Saanu Mannay
O' Bulleh Shah let's go there
Where everyone is blind
Where no one recognizes our caste (or race, or family name)
And where no one believes in us
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Masjid Dha Day, Mandir Dha Day
Dha Day Jo Kujh Disda
Par Kissay Da Dil Na Dhawee(n)
Rub Dilaa(n) Wich Wasda
Tear down the Mosque, tear down the temple
Tear down every thing in sight
But don't (tear down) break anyone's heart
Because God lives there
Monday, July 12, 2010
"When I Cried At My Own Death"
"When I Cried At My Own Death"
I was surrounded by books(Unlike me)sitting on the wet floor in my room, preparing for my final exams.The door and windows were covered with wet blanket, as my fan was very slow and i had spend all my money on booze, which i got from my Dad to buy a cooler.
Imagine, Wet floor, Door,windows covered with wet blanket.I Was Almost feeling like sitting in an AC room.I got up and went out for lunch(Paranthas in a local dhaba).On the way to Dhaba,i saw Liquor shop.Thought i will have my lunch, go back and prepare for my exams. But could not control myself and bought a bottle Chilled BEER and some snacks(we call it chakhna).Was feeling great,had my chilled beer and planned to take some rest after that.
I woke up and looked outside, it was totally dark. Was feeling very lazy and dizzy and felt i Got Fever. Now i was also feeling hungry, as i didn't had my lunch (Was on liquid Diet).
Now the worst part starts, i looked at clock hanging in front of me, to my surprise i was 11:30 PM. I was sure that i will not get food outside, and i had nothing to cook at home as well. This was not all, my roomie was missing(he was on date), and i didn't had a cell phone as billu(my roomie) has taken it with him. Anyhow i managed to get up and checked my temperature. Shockkkkkkkkkkkkkkeeeedd 103... as it was showing on thermometer.
Now what? i thought... Exam on Monday, Fever, no food, no one take care and 2 books to finish. I shattered. Nothing came to my mind. I kept a wet piece of cloths on my stomach(had heard somewhere that if u do this u don't feel hungry for some time) and tried to sleep.
Suddenly i saw a poster on the wall,the text written on it was "GOD IS NEAR". I felt like Yamraaj is coming towards me, saying "Bacha Tumhara Waqt Poora Hua", and i was begging, please don't take me with you, i have my final Exam on monday. Yamraaj Said:but u didn't prepare for it, so whats the point of taking up the exam???He Didn't listen to me and started dragging me.
Now what i see was something i never even imagined. I saw my Dead body lying in front of my house. I was covered with white cloth, and some flowers on my body. I Was surrounded by people "everyone in white cloths". I could see my Mom,Dad,Sister my Grammy(80 yrs old)and my friends everyone crying loudly and endlessly. Now surprisingly i also stared CRYING with them. Suddenly somebody was knocking the the door. But i kept crying in-spite of the knocks. The sound was louder now.
I woke up... and what i see is "I was sweating and latterly Crying. I looked at the wall clock, it was morning 7AM. Now someone was hitting at my door. I opened the door, it was my roomie. I was still crying, and i hugged my friend.I told him the whole story. He got bit immolation but was laughing. Now i also accompanied him and was laughing out loud.
He took me to the doctor, and i was feeling much better now.We had our lunch,came back and started preparing for exams. Whenever i think about this dream, can't stop laughing. There will be no one in this World who has cried on his own death.
But i can proudly say that "I Cried At My Own Death".
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