Your Only Dress can be the Light of the Heart (5/23/2021)

Your Only Dress Can Be the Light of the Heart (5/23/2021)

You are such a moon that You don’t fit in the sky.

You are such water that You cannot be contained in a river.

 

You are such a pearl that You exceed the oceans.

You are such a mountain that You cannot fit in any valley. Continue reading “Your Only Dress can be the Light of the Heart (5/23/2021)”

I Will Rise (2/14/2021)

I Will Rise (2/14/2021)

I am not the kind of lion which fights with the enemy.

I fight with my self. That’s enough for me.

 

I have become dirt for Love’s feet, but am settled in the knowledge

that I will rise from the ground like a rose, like an iris. Continue reading “I Will Rise (2/14/2021)”

Songs and Screams (6/28/2020)

Songs and Screams (6/28/2020)

Every night, the specter of my Beauty praises the attributes of my Essence

and talks about the Absence of my Essence which proves my Existence.

 

The Sultan of chess of the seven stars sends a sign

from His ayn*-like eye and cim-like ear which checkmates me.

 

If I were to pick an apple from that tree and split it in half,

such an amazing Beauty would be born.

Grapes would cover the whole world.

Wine would overflow all around my gardens.

 

If I took the Quran in my hand and, in confusion, it slipped from my hand,

His face would become ten verses of the Quran

and His lips would turn into a verse for me.

 

The world is Mount Sinai. I am Moses.

I am out of my self. I have gone beyond my self.

The world keeps shaking, but the only one who knows

is the one who walks that road where I paid my dues.

 

The soul’s sun rose and said, “O lazy ones, get up.

When I reflect on the mountain, even my smallest particles keep moving.”

 

Be silent.

I have cried and yelled so much that hundreds of centuries will pass

and the world will still turn along with my songs and screams.

*ayn and cim  Letters of the Arabic alphabet.

Divan-i Kebir, Volume 15, Ghazal 40, verses 459-465, pages 90-91.

The Dust Raised Up by Words (11/4/18)

The Dust Raised Up by Words (11/4/18)

Don’t give water to me. I want to be Your thirsty one.

Make me Your lover. Take away my sleep.

 

O One whose beautiful image has become the Mihrab* for me,

I will keep doing Namaz** every day and night. Continue reading “The Dust Raised Up by Words (11/4/18)”