
Have you ever known a wine which has no hangover?
Have you ever picked a rose which has no thorns? Continue reading “Have You Ever…? (6/14/2020)”
Have you ever known a wine which has no hangover?
Have you ever picked a rose which has no thorns? Continue reading “Have You Ever…? (6/14/2020)”
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.
Since you are My drunk, O My soul,
don’t worry about the troubles you have.
Since you are My gazelle, O My soul,
don’t worry about the male lion. Continue reading “Why Do You Worry? (5/31/2020)”
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)”
He is such a Beauty that He teaches endearing behaviors
to the Moon and Venus all night long.
Both of His eyes cover the eyes of the sky with magic.
O religious ones, save your hearts,
because I have merged so much with Him
that my heart cannot join me to anyone anymore.
First, I was born from Love.
Then, I gave my heart to Him,
just like the fruit that comes from the branch.
In the end, it hangs onto that branch.
I am running away from my shadow,
because it is hiding the light.
How could someone who runs away from his own shadow be settled?
His hair says, “Where is that acrobat who plays with rope?
Have him come back soon.”
His face, which resembles a candle, says,
“Where is the moth? Have it come and burn itself.”
O heart, be brave in the game.
Submit yourself.
When His candle flares up, throw yourself into it.
Once you feel the pleasure of His burning,
you will not be able to get enough of it.
Even the fountain of life
will not be able to separate you from that fire.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 15, Ghazal #28, verses 346-352, pages 67-68.
The soul’s Sultan pushes us from one play to another
as if we were pawns in a chess game.
I wonder if He wins. I wonder if He is ever checkmated.
After all, aren’t we the ones on trial?
He picked up our particles, gathered them together,
then kneaded them with the universe to make a paste.
He pierced our noses and inserted reins made of greed and lust
in order to pull us around the world like camels.
Who are we?
He put an oxen’s bell on the neck of the sky
and keeps crushing us under that sky as if we were sesame.
How lucky is that camel who has been tied by the halter of God’s Love.
He makes us drunk and excited while we are among the other camels.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 15, Ghazal 6, verses 48-52, page 11.