The Lord is in me, and the Lord is in you,
As life is hidden in every seed.
So rubble your pride, my friend,
And look for Him within you.
When I sit in the heart of His world
A million suns blaze with light,
A burning blue sea spreads across the sky,
Life's turmoil falls quiet,
All the stains of suffering wash away.
Listen to the unstruck bells and drums!
Love is here; plunge into its rapture!
Rains pour down without water;
Rivers are streams of light.
How could I ever express
How blessed I feel
To revel in such vast ecstasy
In my own body?
This is the music
Of soul and soul meeting.
Of the forgetting of all grief.
This is the music
That transcends all coming and going.
~Kabir
I once had a thousand desires,
But in my one desire to know you
all else melted away.
The pure essence of your being
has taken over my heart and soul.
Now there is no second or third,
only the sound of your sweet cry.
Through your grace I have found
a treasure within myself.
I have found the truth of the Unseen world.
I have come upon the eternal ecstasy.
I have gone beyond the ravages of time.
I have become one with you!
Now my heart sings,
"I am the soul of the world."
Maulana Rumi
Right outside this lazy summer home
You ain't got time to call your soul a critic, no
Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home
Wondering where the nut-thatch winters
Wings a mile long just carried the bird away
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings
But the heart has its seasons, its evenings and songs of its own
There comes a redeemer, and he slowly too fades away
There follows his wagon behind him that's loaded with clay
And the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay
And night comes so quiet, it's close on the heels of the day
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings
But the heart has its seasons, it's evenings and songs of its own
Sometimes we live no particular way but our own
Sometimes we visit your country and live in your home
Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone
Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings
But the heart has its seasons, its evenings and songs of its own.
~Jerome J. Garcia/Robert C.Hunter
We tried reasoning
our way to Him:
it did not work;
but the moment we gave up,
no obstacle remained.
He introduced himself to us
out of kindness: how else
could we have known him?
Reason took us as far as the door;
but it was his presence that let us in.
But how will you ever know him,
as long as you are unable
to know yourself?
~Hakim Sanai
From the large jug, drink the wine of Unity,
So that from your heart you can wash away the futility of life’s grief.
But like this large jug, still keep the heart expansive.
Why would you want to keep the heart captive, like an unopened bottle of wine?
With your mouth full of wine, you are selfless
And will never boast of your own abilities again.
Be like the humble stone at your feet rather than striving to be like a
Sublime cloud: the more you mix colors of deceit, the more colorless
your ragged wet coat will get.
Connect the heart to the wine, so that it has body,
Then cut off the neck of hypocrisy and piety of this new man.
Be like Hafiz: Get up and make an effort. Don’t lie around like a bum.
He who throws himself at the Beloved’s feet is like a workhorse and will
be rewarded with boundless pastures and eternal rest.
~ Hafiz
Translated by Thomas Rain Crowe
In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
How can you describe the true form of Something
In whose presence you are blotted out?
And in whose being you still exist?
And who lives as a sign for your journey?
– Rabia