
Some people tell stories about the Beyond.
Some expect help from the Beyond.
Souls keep running out of bodies secretly,
looking for the Beyond.
Rubailar, Rubai #4, Page 222.
O player, play this music. Play this tune.
Alas for the ones who block the road!
Mercy especially for the one who waylays us on our road!
O player, you learned that other music from that other brigand,
because the student has the teacher’s accent. Continue reading “What’s the Use of That? (12/2/18)”
Every mind becomes confused when it sees Your face.
Every face is scratched by Your Absence.
I have become drunk because of Your reproach.
I don’t even know if Your pure wine is better than a sedimented one. Continue reading “I am at Peace with Him (11/18/18)”
The words which come from the soul are a curtain to the soul.
The fog which comes from the sea hides the coast and the pearls of that sea.
It is a great task to get involved in philosophical discourses.
But, the explanation is the curtain to the Sun of the Truth. Continue reading “Throw Away This Image (10/7/18)”
I yelled, “Where is that drunk heart going?”
The Sultan of sultans said,
“Be silent. He is coming to our side.” Continue reading “Leave Him Alone. Let Him Go. (8/26/18)”
O one who has flown out from this narrow cage,
O one who has gone to the heights of the sky,
From now on, you are starting a new life altogether.
What is this aimless life? Continue reading “A New Life Altogether (8/12/18)”
Tonight, take my soul completely from this poor body.
Take it out, so I will have no name, no fame in this world. Continue reading “So That’s That (6/17/18)”
You are coming our way. You are a decent person.
We are also nice.
In appearance we look like fire,
but we are the Fountain of Life for you.
You are a small pigeon. You were born in this nest.
If you don’t come this way on your own, we will pull you by force.
Be in our temple. We are in the temple of that Beauty,
becoming drunk on His wine, the wine that comes only from Him.
We stand at our place like a mountain, but we flow like a torrent.
We keep silent like that, but sometimes yell and scream like thunder.
Although like fate we kill people for no reason,
you have a soul that resembles the sea.
Put it in your palm and come to us.
Our part of ownership of these five senses is only a short five days.
But, there are six dimensions and we are a sultan in each one of them.
We are following the shrill pipe of Love.
Our breath is sharp. Our voice caresses the soul,
because we keep playing the vessel of the soul, crying for you.
You concern yourself with the matters of Love.
If you are sincere, don’t look for a bed and a pillow.
We have welcomed this illness caused by our desire to reach the Mine.
We haven’t welcomed it out of love for a bed and pillow.
The light of the sky, the praise of Tebriz is our Shamseddin.
Because of that Sun, our insides have turned out to be the sky
and the self has become the Moon.
Divan-i Kebir, Meter 10, Gazel 71, Verses 749-757, Pages 155-156.
People were born from the Sea of Soul like water birds.
How do those birds which come from the sea make this place their home?
We are engulfed by the soul’s sea with every breath we take.
If it were not so, why do the waves come one after the other from the Sea of Heart? Continue reading “Our Jar Cannot Take Any More (4/15/18)”