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)”
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)”
O my soul, they found a way to make sugar out of sugarcane.
They learned how to weave silk from the matter of mulberry leaves.
Be patient.
Bitter grapes become halva with time.
*halva Sweetmeats.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #2, page 157.
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)”
When grief covers everywhere, everything,
the one who grabs Love becomes carefree.
Just look at the particle.
When it touched Love, it turned into a shape
which created universes.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #1, page 116.
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.
Love came and broke my regret as if it were a bottle.
How can we escape
Love’s constant breaking and repairing?
Who can repair a broken bottle except Love?
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #3, page 112.
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.
Look at these fragments of soul
which have been chipped off, sparkling in this valley.
Watch this sea. Watch these ships
as they collide with each other. Continue reading “No Place for Water and Earth (12/29/19)”
O heart, here you are, sitting in the middle of His sorrow.
To suffer is the cure. Do not complain. That is the order.
When you step on the head of your desire, your dog-self will be suffocated.
That is the sacrifice.
Rubailer (2016), Rubai #1, page 73.