Even if sugar envies your sweet smile,
Even if sultans are your slaves and servants,
if you make this rotten world your Qibla,*
you are dead, and people are licking your corpse.
*Qibla Direction of prayer.
Rubailer, Page 371, Rubai #4
When I desired Union, when I burned with fire,
I went to Mount Sinai, like Moses.
There, I saw a sultan, the Sultan of sultans,
a charmer who attracts the heart, who adds Soul to souls. Continue reading “Non-Existence Appeared Like Existence (9/17/17)”
There are rose gardens for lovers inside of those bloody fences.
There are so many other businesses for lovers thanks to the absolute beauty of Love.
The mind says, “There are six dimensions to the world of existence.
There is no road beyond those boundaries.”
Yet Love says, “Yes, there is. I have been back and forth many times. Continue reading “There Are Rose Gardens for Lovers (9/3/17)”
Between the darkness of sleep and the light of awakening,
in the dark of evening, I saw such a person!
He was a traveler with such a beautiful face, on his journey to the Holy Temple.
He was pure wisdom, the light of awareness. Continue reading “The Situation Is Not Like That (8/20/17)”
Don’t you see?
Thirst is telling water to go away. Hunger is turning its nose up at bread.
The tunnel is angry at the sun because it doesn’t want its light.
What a crazy, stupid, unfortunate situation this is. Continue reading ““You Are Not Mud. You Are This Gold.”(7/23/17)”
This is the time for war, O soul. Put on your arms.
It is getting late, O soul. Don’t hesitate.
This world is nothing but a colorful show, O soul,
with a cat-and-mouse fight on every corner.
Give it up, O soul. Give it up.
Rubailer, Page 342, Rubai #4
First, I learned about myself by imitating others.
Although I was aware of my existence, I didn’t comprehend my being.
Because I didn’t see, because I didn’t recognize myself, I was only hearing my name.
When I went out of myself, I saw my real being.
Rubailer, Page 24, Rubai #4
There is a place beyond faith and heresy
that is not for all the young and pretty ones who want to get there.
As the price,
one has to give up their life and sacrifice their heart.
Rubailer, Page 65, Rubai #3
Is there a lip from which the smell of Soul doesn’t come?
Is there a heart in which He doesn’t have a trace?
If there are no provisions coming from that famous table,
why is every particle chewing cud like a camel? Continue reading “Why Does Your Soul Keep Growing? (2/5/17)”
The words which come from Soul are a curtain to the soul.
The fog which comes from the sea hides the coast and the sea’s pearls. Continue reading “A Curtain to the Soul (1/8/17)”