Topic: Saints and Mystics

[nichi]

And For No Reason

And
For no reason
I start skipping like a child.

And
For no reason
I turn into a leaf
That is carried so high
I kiss the sun's mouth
And dissolve.

And
For no reason
A thousand birds
Choose my head for a conference table,
Start passing their
Cups of wine
And their wild songbooks all around.

And
For every reason in existence
I begin to eternally,
To eternally laugh and love!

When I turn into a leaf
And start dancing,
I run to kiss our beautiful Friend
And I dissolve in the Truth
That I Am.

Hafiz by Ladinsky

[Jennifer-]

While unperishing love melted my bones,
     I cried
I shouted again and again,
     louder than the waves of the
     billowing sea,
I became confused,
     I fell,
     I rolled,
     I wailed,
Bewildered like a madman,
Intoxicated like a crazy drunk,
     so that people were puzzled
     and those who heard wondered.
Wild as a rutting elephant which cannot
     be mounted,
     I could not contain myself.


 

Manikkavacakar
9th Century India

 

These are all so beautiful V !

[nichi]

 , J!

I do not say it is the Linga,

I do not say it is oneness with the Linga,

I do not say it is union,

I do not say it is harmony,

I do not say it has occurred,

I do not say it has not occurred,

I do not say it is You,

I do not say it is I

After becoming one with the Linga
in Chenna Mallikarjuna*,

I say nothing whatever.
 

 

~Akka Mahadevi~
12th Century India



*translates as " The Beautiful Lord, white as jasmine."

[nichi]

O God, Another Night is passing away,
Another Day is rising --
Tell me that I have spent the Night well so I can be at peace,
Or that I have wasted it, so I can mourn for what is lost.
I swear that ever since the first day You brought me back to life,
The day You became my Friend,
I have not slept --
And even if You drive me from your door,
I swear again that we will never be separated.
Because You are alive in my heart.


~Rabia~
Rabi'a Al-'Adawiyya
8th Century Iraq

[nichi]

When Jani sweeps the floor
 

When Jani sweeps the floor
her Lord gathers up the dirt.

When she lifts the wooden pestle
he cleans the mortar stone. 

He doesn't stand on dignity
he collects cow-pats by her side. 

When she goes to fetch the water
her Lord follows after.


~Janabai~
13th Century Bhakti* Poet: India


*devotional

[nichi]

The Rains

The rain advances like a king
   In artful majesty;
Hear, dearest, how his thunder rings
    Like royal drums and see
His lightning-banners wave; a cloud
    For elephant he rides,
And finds his welcome from the crowd
    Of lovers and of brides.
The clouds, a mighty stormy march
    With drum-like thundering
And stretch upon the rainbow’s arch
    The lightning’s flashing string;
The cruel arrows of the rain
    Smite them who love, apart
From whom they love, with stinging pain,
    And pierce them to the heart.
Their blossom-burden weighs the trees;
    The winds in fragrance move;
The lakes are bright with lotuses,
    The women bright with love;
The days are soft, the evening clear
    And charming; everything
That moves and lives and blossoms, dear,
    Is sweeter in the spring.
The groves are beautifully bright
    For many and many a mile
With jasmine-flowers that are as white
    As loving woman’s smile:
The resolution of a saint
    Might well be tried by this;
Far more, young heart that fancies paint
    With dreams of loving bliss.
 

~Kalidasa~
5th Century India

[Jennifer-]

The Rains

The rain advances like a king
   In artful majesty;
Hear, dearest, how his thunder rings
    Like royal drums and see
His lightning-banners wave; a cloud
    For elephant he rides,
And finds his welcome from the crowd
    Of lovers and of brides.
The clouds, a mighty stormy march
    With drum-like thundering
And stretch upon the rainbow’s arch
    The lightning’s flashing string;
The cruel arrows of the rain
    Smite them who love, apart
From whom they love, with stinging pain,
    And pierce them to the heart.
Their blossom-burden weighs the trees;
    The winds in fragrance move;
The lakes are bright with lotuses,
    The women bright with love;
The days are soft, the evening clear
    And charming; everything
That moves and lives and blossoms, dear,
    Is sweeter in the spring.
The groves are beautifully bright
    For many and many a mile
With jasmine-flowers that are as white
    As loving woman’s smile:
The resolution of a saint
    Might well be tried by this;
Far more, young heart that fancies paint
    With dreams of loving bliss.
 

~Kalidasa~
5th Century India

Beautiful!!! 

[nichi]

UNMARKED BOXES

Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round
in another form. The child weaned from mother's milk
now drinks wine and honey mixed.

God's joy moves from unmarked box to unmarked box,
from cell to cell. As rainwater, down into flowerbed.
As rose, up from the ground.
Now it looks like a plate of rice and fish,
now a cliff covered with vines,
now a horse being saddled.
It hides within these,
till one day it cracks them open.

Part of the self leaves the body when we sleep
and changes shape. You might say, "Last night
I was a cypress tree, a small bed of tulips,
a field of grapevines." Then the phantasm goes away.
You're back in the room.
I don't want to make any one fearful.
Hear what's behind what I say.

Tatatumtum tatum tatadum.
There's the light gold of wheat in the sun
and the gold of bread made from that wheat.
I have neither. I'm only talking about them,

as a town in the desert looks up
at stars on a clear night.

Rumi
Version by Coleman Barks
"Open Secret"

[nichi]

The flute weeps
to the pacing drum

the drunken camel
rises from its knees
and tugs at the rope of reason

the bird flutters
in the heart's cage
putting out his head
on this side and that

the flood fills
the ancient riverbed
and once again
the riverbanks are green

the falcon hears
the royal drum
and circles seeking
the wrist of the king

the musk deer
smells the lion
and her haunches
are trembling

the madmen have seen
the moon in the window;
they are running to the roof
with ladders

somewhere tonight
a dervish cries
"it was my soul
in the wine!
it was my soul!"

-- from: "Rumi - Fragments, Ecstasies"
A version by Daniel Liebert

[nichi]

The Dome of the Inner Sky

The Great King is within me.
He is my dearest friend.

Don't look at my sallow face,
Look at how I stand with legs of iron!
Always turning toward that One
who gave me life.

I am the glorious Sun,
the ocean laden with pearls.
Within my heart is the grandeur of heaven,
Outside, the lowly earth.

I travel in this world like a bee in a jar.
But don't listen to my woeful buzzing -
My house is filled with honey!

O heart, if you want to join us,
raise yourself
to the dome of the inner sky.
Enter the fortress that no one can break.

The vast and mighty waters
move the grinding stones of heaven.
I am that great wheel,
crying so sweetly,
turning with the flow of rushing water.

Men, demons, and spirits all follow my command.
Can't you see that I am Solomon,
with a shimmering seal on my ring?

Why should I be weary
when every cell of my body is bursting with life?
Why should I be a donkey's slave
when I ride upon a magical horse?
Why should I be less than the Moon
when there are no scorpions at my feet?
Why should I stay at the bottom of a well
when a strong rope is in my hand?

I've built a place for the falcons of my soul -
Fly this way, O birds of spirit,
for I am surrounded by a hundred mighty towers!

I am the rays of the Sun
dancing through the windows of every house.
I am carnelian, gold, and rubies,
even though this body is made of water and clay.

Whatever pearl you seek,
look for the pearl within the pearl!

The surface of the earth says,
"The treasure is within."
The glowing jewel says,
"Don't be fooled by my beauty -
the light of my face
comes from the candle of my spirit."

What else can I say?
You will only hear
what you are ready to hear.
Don't nod your head,
Don't try to fool me -
the truth of what you see
is written all over your face!


~Rumi~
Per Jonathan Star
"Rumi - In the Arms of the Beloved "

[nichi]

Poem, song, and story,
the stream sweeps by, moving along
what was never mine anyway.

What I've done through an act of will,
well-meaning or mean, these are brought in
briefly by moonlight and carried obscurely off.

 

~Rumi~
From BIRDSONG
Translated by Coleman Barks

[nichi]

No tongue can tell Your secret
for the measure of the word obscures Your nature.
But the gift of the ear
is that it hears
what the tongue cannot tell.

~Hakim Sanai
11th Century Afghanistan

[Jennifer-]

 

[nichi]

The Song of the Reed


Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separated.

"Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.

Anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what I say.

Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.

At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,

a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden

within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,

spirit up from body: no concealing
that mixing. But it's not given us

to see the soul. The reed flute
is fire, not wind. Be that empty."

Hear the love-fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment

melts into wine. The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric torn

and drawn away. The reed is hurt
and salve combining. Intimacy

and longing for intimacy, one
song. A disastrous surrender

and a fine love, together. The one
who secretly hears this is senseless.

A tongue has one customer, the ear.
A sugarcane flute has such effect

because it was able to make sugar
in the reedbed. The sound it makes

is for everyone. Days full of wanting,
let them go by without worrying

that they do. Stay where you are
inside sure a pure, hollow note.

Every thirst gets satisfied except
that of these fish, the mystics,

who swim a vast ocean of grace
still somehow longing for it!

No one lives in that without
being nourished every day.

But if someone doesn't want to hear
the song of the reed flute,

it's best to cut conversation
short, say good-bye, and leave.

~Rumi~

[nichi]

And a man said, Speak to us of Self-Knowledge.
And he answered saying:
Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.

And it is well you should.
The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;
And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.
But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;
And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."
Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

 
Kahlil Gibran
The Prophet