
I am not the man you think you know, you think you see.
Even if you could see, you wouldn’t recognize me.
You are unable to see anything but images,
because you are asleep, confused.
I really keep turning around bad luck, keep borrowing trouble
when I turn around myself, my illusions instead of You. Continue reading “Turn (5/14/17)”
In His eyes, both worlds resemble a piece of grain in front of a rooster.
The eye that has seen Greatness is like that. Continue reading “Who Knows God? (4/30/17)”
You are the nightingale of the garden meadows.
But, with the grace of God, you can become the garden,
the meadow and wind, even hundreds of nightingales. Continue reading “A Bridge (3/19/17)”
How long will we be satisfied by the shapes and appearances of time?
How long will we watch and sniff after existence?
I am tired of the materials and creatures of the present; it is time to see that Beauty of Beauties.
But, when I look at Him, I see my image. When I look at myself, I see His.
Rubailer, Page 296, Rubai #2
Life is short. Breaths are numbered. Yet, Love lasts forever.
We stretched our legs and laid down under the shade of the heart,
Watching the plain of Love extending in front of us.
Who cares if there are hundreds of days of resurrection on that plain?
Rubailer, Page 241, Rubai #3