When I was drinking wine in Your tavern one day,
I started ripping off this cloak of mine, this cloak made of clay.
In Your tavern, I saw the harmony in its workings
and in the workings of the Universe.
There was such a balance of creation and destruction.
I was amazed.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #2, page 326.
Yesterday, this slave was the moon of soul.
In his search for proofs and explanations,
he asked a difficult question.
Although no answer came, his question just disappeared.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #1, page 205.
Union with God cannot be achieved
until a person completely annihilates his self.
Such a Union is not the merging of two to make one.
Union is your total annihilation.
Absurdity doesn’t turn falsehood into Truth.
Only a fool says, “Everything is God.”
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #2, page 179
Once my soul had turned its face to the Essence
and given up whys, whats and hows,
it started to see eternity.
The secret of Love and the meaning of creation
which had been concealed from it up until then
appeared from behind thousands of curtains.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #1, page 183.
If you want to enlighten the universe,
if you want to increase the light of this world,
all your body must turn into fire like the sun. Continue reading “This Fire (7/12/2020)”
Union with God cannot be achieved
until a person has completely annihilated his self.
Such a Union is not the merging of two to make one.
Union requires your total annihilation.
Absurdity does not turn falsehood into Truth.
Only a fool says, “Everything is God.”
Rubailer (2016, Rubai #2, page 179)
Without the pure water from the sea of Love,
our pearl would turn into stone.
If there were no world to be found inside of our soul,
our soul and that world would shrink and confine us.
Pain from the Beloved polishes your heart and soul.
Hold fast to it and it will clean away all of your dirt and rust.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #1, paghe 176.
Once I got a tiny whiff of Your scent,
I was forced to go Your way.
My color and scent were stolen by Yours.
I was annihilated in the end, so nothing was left of me,
not even a scent. No scent. Nothing.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #3, page 175.
I will be sad if You give me less grief.
If You pour sorrow and troubles over my head,
I will be embraced by the joy of troubles. Continue reading “The Joy of Troubles (4/19/2020)”
Come soon, so we can throw off the mantle of our body
and, in that moment, demolish and flatten the house of our existence. Continue reading “The Soul Keeps Flying (3/22/2020)”