Spiritual Poems

[NikolaiI]

I will try to post a poem every day.

The Inner Fields
by Sri Aurobindo


There is a brighter ether than this blue
Pretence of an enveloping heavenly vault,
Royaler investiture than this massed assault
Of emerald rapture pearled with tears of dew.
Immortal spaces of cerulean hue
Are in our reach and fields without this fault
Of drab brown earth and streams that never halt
In their deep murmur which white flowers strew

Floating like stars upon a strip of sky.
This world behind is made of truer stuff
Than the manufactured tissue of earth's grace.
There we can walk and see the gods go by
And sip from Hebe's cup nectar enough
To make for us heavenly limbs and deathless face.

[NikolaiI]

"With my tears,
I watered the creeper of love that I planted;
Now the creeper has grown spread all over,
and borne the fruit of bliss.
The churner of the milk churned with great love.
When I took out the butter,
no need to drink any buttermilk.
I came for the sake of love-devotion;
seeing the world, I wept. "

[NikolaiI]

What could have caused your grip to weaken
that allowed creation to be?

How could a lover fall to his death
from the arms of infinite
strength?

How active you are in the mind sustaining such a great wall
that the sun can cast a frightening shadow
the world believes.

No one has ever really known sadness. No real God
would ever allow pain.

How then can a heart feel it is broken and in need
If we are held in the arms of infinite
compassion and
strength?

The mirror you (God) stand before -
we need to gaze into it also.

That name you called Beloved
as I fell from your lips -
I suffer

because I did not quite
hear it;

so tell me again dear One
so clear:

I am
you.

[NikolaiI]

He who utters the Name of God while walking
gets the merit of a sacrifice at every step.
His body becomes a place of pilgrimage.
He who repeats God’s Name while working
always finds perfect peace.
He who utters the Name of God while eating
gets the merit of a fast
even though he has taken his meals.
Even if one were to give in charity
the whole world encircled by the seas
it would not equal the merit of repeating the Name.
By the power of the Name
one will know what cannot be known,
One will see what cannot be seen,
One will speak what cannot be spoken,
One will meet what cannot be met.
Tuka says,
Incalculable is the gain that comes
From repeating the Name of God.

[NikolaiI]

by Vivekananda

The Mother's heart, the hero's will,
The softest flowers' sweetest feel;
The charm and force that ever sway
The altar-fire's flaming play;
The strength that leads, in love obeys;
Far-reaching dreams, and patient ways,
Eternal faith in Self, in all,
The light Divine in great, in small;
All these and more than I could see,
Today may "Mother" grant to thee!

[NikolaiI]

by Sri Aurobindo

All is abolished but the mute Alone.
The mind from thought released, the heart from grief,
Grow inexistent now beyond belief;
There is no I, no Nature, known-unknown.
The city, a shadow picture without tone,
Floats, quivers unreal; forms without relief
Flow, a cinema's vacant shapes; like a reef
Foundering in shoreless gulfs the world is done.

Only the illimitable Permanent
Is here. A Peace stupendous, featureless, still.
Replaces all, - what once was I, in It
A silent unnamed emptiness content
Either to fade in the Unknowable
Or thrill with the luminous seas of the Infinite.

[NikolaiI]

Soul in the Ignorance,
by Sri Aurobindo

Soul in the Ignorance, wake from its stupor.
Flake of the world-fire, spark of Divinity,
Lift up thy mind and thy heart into glory.
Sun in the darkness, recover thy lustre.

One, universal, ensphering creation,
Wheeling no more with inconscient Nature,
Feel thyself God-born, know thyself deathless.
Timeless return to thy immortal existence.

[NikolaiI]

To Meditate,
by Thich Nhat Hanh

To meditate does not mean to fight with a problem.
To meditate means to observe.
Your smile proves it.
It proves that you are being gentle with yourself,
that the sun of awareness is shining in you,
that you have control of your situation.
You are yourself,
and you have acquired some peace.

[NikolaiI]

Disappearance,
by Thich Nhat Hanh

The leaf tips bend
under the weight of dew.
Fruits are ripening
in Earth's early morning.
Daffodils light up in the sun.
The curtain of cloud at the gateway
of the garden path begins to shift:
have pity for childhood,
the way of illusion.

Late at night,
the candle gutters.
In some distant desert,
a flower opens.
And somewhere else,
a cold aster
that never knew a cassava patch
or gardens of areca palms,
never knew the joy of life,
at that instant disappears-
man's eternal yearning.

[NikolaiI]

Infant Joy, by William Blake

``I have no name:
I am but two days old.''
What shall I call thee?
``I happy am,
Joy is my name.''
Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty joy!
Sweet joy but two days old,
Sweet joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while,
Sweet joy befall thee!

[NikolaiI]

There is a candle in your heart,
``ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul,
``ready to be filled.
You feel it, don't you?
You feel the separation
``from the Beloved.
Invite Him to fill you up,
``embrace the fire.
Remind those who tell you otherwise that
``Love
``comes to you of its own accord,
``and the yearning for it
``cannot be learned in any school.

-Rumi

*sometimes there are indentions in these poems, in this one for instance there are, but they don't show up and I don't know how to format them to. Maybe this works? (I just added `'s)

Hm..

[NikolaiI]

Song for Nobody, by Thomas Merton

A yellow flower
(Light and spirit)
Sings by itself
For nobody.

A golden spirit
(Light and emptiness)
Sings without a word
By itself.

Let no one touch this gentle sun
In whose dark eye
Someone is awake.

(No light, no gold, no name, no color
And no thought:
O, wide awake!)

A golden heaven
Sings by itself
A song to nobody.

[NikolaiI]

Invitation, by Sri Aurobindo

With wind and the weather beating round me
Up to the hill and the moorland I go.
Who will come with me? Who will climb with me?
Wade through the brook and tramp through the snow?

Not in the petty circle of cities
Cramped by your doors and your walls I dwell;
Over me God is blue in the welkin,
Against me the wind and the storm rebel.

I sport with solitude here in my regions,
Of misadventure have made me a friend.
Who would live largely? Who would live freely?
Here to the wind-swept uplands ascend.

I am the Lord of tempest and mountain,
I am the Spirit of freedom and pride.
Stark must he be and a kinsman to danger
Who shares my kingdom and walks at my side.

[NikolaiI]

Because Thou Art,
by Sri Aurobindo


Because Thou art All-beauty and All-bliss,
`My soul blind and enamoured yearns for Thee ;
It bears Thy mystic touch in all that is
`And thrills with the burden of that ecstasy.


Behind all eyes I meet Thy secret gaze
`And in each voice I hear Thy magic tune :
Thy sweetness haunts my heart through Nature's ways;
Nowhere it beats now from Thy snare immune.


It loves Thy body in all living things;
`Thy joy is there in every leaf and stone:
The moments bring Thee on their fiery wings ;
`Sight's endless artistry is Thou alone

Time voyages with Thee upon its prow
And all the future's passionate hope is Thou.

[NikolaiI]

In Silence,
by Thomas Merton

Be still.
Listen to the stones of the wall.
Be silent, they try
to speak your

name.
Listen
to the living walls.

Who are you?
Who
are you? Whose
silence are you?

Who (be quiet)
are you (as these stones
are quiet). Do not
think of what you are
still less of
what you may one day be.

Rather
be what you are (but who?)
be the unthinkable one
you do not know.

O be still, while
you are still alive,
and all things live around you

speaking (I do not hear)
to your own being,
speaking by the unknown
that is in you and in themselves.

“I will try, like them
to be my own silence:
and this is difficult. The whole
world is secretly on fire. The stones
burn, even the stones they burn me.
How can a man be still or
listen to all things burning?
How can he dare to sit with them
when all their silence is on fire?”

[NikolaiI]

God Speaks to Each of Us,
by Rainer Maria Rilke


God speaks to each of us before we are,
Before he's formed us then, in cloudy speech,
But only then, he speaks these words to each
And silently walks with us from the dark:

Driven by your senses, dare
To the edge of longing. Grow
Like a fire's shadowcasting glare
Behind assembled things, so you can spread
Their shapes on me as clothes.
Don't leave me bare.

Let it all happen to you: beauty and dread.
Simply go no feeling is too much
And only this way can we stay in touch.

Near here is the land
That they call Life.
You'll know when you arrive
By how real it is.

Give me your hand.

[NikolaiI]

In Salutation to the Eternal Peace


Men say the world is full of fear and hate,
And all life's ripening harvest-fields await
The restless sickle of relentless fate.

But I, sweet Soul, rejoice that I was born,
When from the climbing terraces of corn
I watch the golden orioles of Thy morn.

What care I for the world's desire and pride,
Who know the silver wings that gleam and glide,
The homing pigeons of Thine eventide?

What care I for the world's loud weariness,
Who dream in twilight granaries Thou dost bless
With delicate sheaves of mellow silences?

Say, shall I heed dull presages of doom,
Or dread the rumoured loneliness and gloom,
The mute and mythic terror of the tomb?

For my glad heart is drunk and drenched with Thee,
O inmost wind of living ecstasy!
O intimate essence of eternity!


Sarojini Naidu
(1879 - 1949)

[NikolaiI]

Where the Mind is Without Fear,
by Rabindranath Tagore

WHERE the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

[NikolaiI]

The Infinite a sudden Guest
Has been assumed to be-
But how can that stupendous come
Which never went away?

-Emily Dickinson

[NikolaiI]

Krishna Govinda,
by Alex Ferguson


Krishna I am linked to you!

You the source of all,
and my source too.
You are with me always.
One day I will come to You,
the way paved by your prophets,
Tukaram, Mirabai -
who know you but enlightened ones?

You are the source of all,
You are in the heart of all.
You ever circle us
as we circle You.

O Bliss! to act without desire,
completely free, in knowledge,
with no thought but You.

O Hymn to the soul,
Radhe Govinda,
Govinda Govinda!
You are above this world,
as this world is from your soul.
The Highest of the High,
you are beyond yet within.
Ever above, yet ever within,
the source of all.

Krishna Govinda,
Govinda Govinda!
O hymn! to rise with you!
To know the unchanged soul,
the innermost recess within;
the waves equal with calm.
O Krishna let your mercy flow,
One day I will be with You.

Govinda, you are in the heart of
every being.
The limitless space of cosmos
is within.

[NikolaiI]

Liberation,
by Sri Aurobindo

I have thrown from me the whirling dance of mind
And stand now in the spirit's silence free,
Timeless and deathless beyond creature-kind,
The centre of my own eternity.

I have escaped and the small self is dead;
I am immortal, alone, ineffable;
I have gone out from the universe I made,
And have grown nameless and immeasurable.

My mind is hushed in a wide and endless light,
My heart a solitude of delight and peace,
My sense unsnared by touch and sound and sight,
My body a point in white infinities.

I am the one Being's sole immobile Bliss:
No one I am, I who am all that is.

[NikolaiI]

Translated by Sri Aurobindo, the original Bengali song by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee


Bande Mataram

Mother, I bow to thee!
Rich with thy hurrying streams,
Bright with thy orchard gleams,
Cool with thy winds of delight,
Dark fields waving, Mother of might,
Mother free.

Glory of moonlight dreams
Over thy branches and lordly streams,
Clad in thy blossoming trees,
Mother, giver of ease,
Laughing low and sweet!
Mother, I kiss thy feet,
Speaker sweet and low!
Mother, to thee I bow.

Who hath said thou art weak in thy lands,
When the swords flash out in twice seventy million hands
And seventy millions voices roar
Thy dreadful name from shore to shore?
With many strengths who art mighty and stored,
To thee I call, Mother and Lord!
Thou who savest, arise and save!
To her I cry who ever her foemen drave
Back from plain and sea
And shook herself free.

Thou art wisdom, thou art law,
Thou our heart, our soul, our breath,
Thou the love divine, the awe
In our hearts that conquers death.
Thine the strength that nerves the arm,
Thine the beauty, thine the charm.
Every image made divine
In our temples is but thine.

Thou art Durga, Lady and Queen,
With her hands that strike and her swords of sheen,
Thou art Lakshmi lotus-throned,
Pure and perfect without peer,
Mother, lend thine ear.
Rich with thy hurrying streams,
Bright with thy orchard gleams,
Dark of hue, O candid-fair


In thy soul, with jewelled hair
And thy glorious smile divine,
Loveliest of all earthly lands,
Showering wealth from well-stored hands!
Mother, mother mine!
Mother sweet, I bow to thee,
Mother great and free.

[NikolaiI]

The Kingdom Within

There is a kingdom of the spirit's ease.
It is not in this helpless swirl of thought,
Foam from the world-sea or spray-whisper caught,
With which we build mind's shifting symmetries,
Nor in life's stuff of passionate unease,
Nor the heart's unsure emotions frailty wrought
Nor trivial clipped sense-joys soon brought to nought
Nor in this body's solid transiences.

Wider behind than the vast universe
Our spirit scans the drama and the stir,
A peace, a light, an ecstasy, a power
Waiting at the end of blindness and the curse
That veils it from its ignorant minister,
The grandeur of its free eternal hour.

Sri Aurobindo
14-3-1936

[NikolaiI]

I Know the Way You Can Get
by, Hafiz

I know the way you can get
When you have not had a drink of Love:

Your face hardens,
Your sweet muscles cramp.
Children become concerned
About a strange look that appears in your eyes
Which even begins to worry your own mirror
And nose.

Squirrels and birds sense your sadness
And call an important conference in a tall tree.
They decide which secret code to chant
To help your mind and soul.

Even angels fear that brand of madness
That arrays itself against the world
And throws sharp stones and spears into
The innocent
And into one's self.

O I know the way you can get
If you have not been drinking Love:

You might rip apart
Every sentence your friends and teachers say,
Looking for hidden clauses.

You might weigh every word on a scale
Like a dead fish.

You might pull out a ruler to measure
From every angle in your darkness
The beautiful dimensions of a heart you once
Trusted.

I know the way you can get
If you have not had a drink from Love's
Hands.

That is why all the Great Ones speak of
The vital need
To keep remembering God,
So you will come to know and see Him
As being so Playful
And Wanting,
Just Wanting to help.

That is why Hafiz says:
Bring your cup near me.
For all I care about
Is quenching your thirst for freedom!

All a Sane man can ever care about
Is giving Love!

[NikolaiI]

Oh I am really happy I came across this poem! I had seen the last two lines as a quote of Blake's and I loved it, but now I can read the whole thing! :)


The Divine Image
by, William Blake

To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
All pray in their distress;
And to these virtues of delight
Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is God, our father dear,
And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love
Is Man, his child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart,
Pity a human face,
And Love, the human form divine,
And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man, of every clime,
That prays in his distress,
Prays to the human form divine,
Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.

And all must love the human form,
In heathen, turk, or jew;
Where Mercy, Love, & Pity dwell
There God is dwelling too.

[NikolaiI]

Peace
by Swami Vivekananda

Behold, it comes in might,
The power that is not power,
The light that is in darkness,
The shade in dazzling light.

It is joy that never spoke,
And grief unfelt, profound,
Immortal life unlived,
Eternal death unmourned.

It is not joy nor sorrow,
But that which is between,
It is not noght nor morrow,
But that which joins them in.

It is sweet rest in music;
And pause in sacred art;
The silence between speaking;
Between two fits of passion --
It is the calm of heart.

It is beauty never seen,
And love that stands alone,
It is song that lives un-sung,
And knowledge never known.

It is death between two lives,
And lull between two storms,
The void whence rose creation,
And that where it returns.

To it the tear-drop goes,
To spread the smiling form
It is the Goal of Life,
And Peace -- its only home!

[NikolaiI]

A Little,
by Sri Chinmoy

A little joy have I of ceaseless joy,
A little day of timeless day.
Yet knows no bound this empty show of mine;
I march along a goalless way.

O Love! A desert within me ever pines.
Do turn it into a song of dawn.
I know not in what hour of evil night
Thou art, my Lord, from me withdrawn.

Life now must reach Thy Breath of Bliss supreme,
Make Thee the one and only Guide.
Thou art the Bridge between my death and birth;
O let my longings in Thee abide.

[blazeofglory]

Nikolia,

All of these poems are really beautiful and deep. I like them very much. There is so much in these poems. All of these are inspirational and inundate our minds with so much love and compassion.

Arbindo is intellectually appealing, Rumi and Mira Bai are really inspiring. Love is manifest in them.

You have really a wonderful selection and such selection is generally difficult to make unless one is inspired.

Such poems soothe and blaze our path.

To this selection if you have added a few poems of Kabir it would have been much better.

Kabir rose above time and space. Even in his days he rose above all racial and national boundaries to embrace all religions and all people on equal footing.

Kabir unlike the rest of saints of the lineage was enlightened. He did not advocate for a particular faith.

Even today he is equally appealing. He was a great humanist. He was not a ritualistic the way the rest of spiritual Gurus were.

In Kabir I see a real spiritualist.

[blazeofglory]

Where the Mind is Without Fear,
by Rabindranath Tagore

WHERE the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

This is really beautiful and of course one of the most famous poems written by Tagore. Tagore got inspirations from the Upanishads and as such his poems are very deep.

[pagebypage]

I just stumbled upon this untitled little quatrain in a book I am reading. It was never previously published.

"Hide Thou Thy face in clouds and mysteries
Wield as Thou wilt Thy power that makes and mars
But heat. That in Thy roaring wheel of stars
One atom dares to love Thee ere it dies.

G.K. Chesterton

found among the archives at Top Meadow Cottage, est. date written 1890's

[NikolaiI]

Immortality, by Sri Chinmoy

I feel in all my limbs His boundless Grace;
Within my heart the Truth of life shines white.
The secret heights of God my soul now climbs;
No dole, no sombre pang, no death in my sight.

No mortal days and nights can shake my calm;
A Light above sustains my secret soul.
All doubts with grief are banished from my deeps,
My eyes of light perceive my cherished Goal.

Though in the world, I am above its woe;
I dwell in an ocean of supreme release.
My mind, a core of the One's unmeasured thoughts;
The star vast welkin hugs my Spirit's peace.

My eternal days are found in speeding time;
I play upon His Flute of rhapsody.
Impossible deeds no more impossible seem;
In birth chains now shines Immortality.

[blazeofglory]

I just stumbled upon this untitled little quatrain in a book I am reading. It was never previously published.

"Hide Thou Thy face in clouds and mysteries
Wield as Thou wilt Thy power that makes and mars
But heat. That in Thy roaring wheel of stars
One atom dares to love Thee ere it dies.

G.K. Chesterton

found among the archives at Top Meadow Cottage, est. date written 1890's

These are great lines, spiritually appealing!!!

[NikolaiI]

A Country Fair


Drive me out of my mind, O Mother!
What use is esoteric knowledge
`` Or philosophical knowledge
Transport me totally with the burning wine
Of your all-embracing love.
Mother of mystery, who imbues with mystery
`` The hearts of those who love you,
Immerse me irretrievably
In the stormy ocean without boundary,
Pure love, pure love, pure love.

Wherever your lovers reside
`` Appears like a madhouse
To common perception.
Some are laughing with your freedom,
Others weep tears of your tenderness,
Still others dance, whirling with your bliss.
Even your devoted Gautama, Moses,
Krishna, Jesus, Nanak and Muhammad
`` Are lost in the rapture of pure love.

This poet stammers,
Overcome with longing:
“When? When? When?
When will I be granted companionship
`` With her intense lovers?”
Their holy company is heavenly
A country fair for those mad with love
Where every distinction
`` Between master and disciple
Disappears

Their love of love sings:
“Mother! Mother! Mother!
Who can fathom your mystery,
Your eternal play of love with love?
You are divine madness, O goddess,
Your love the brilliant crown of madness,
Please make this poor poet madly wealthy
`` With the infinite treasure of your love

by Ramprasad

[NikolaiI]

I Have forgotten,
by Milarepa

May I be far removed from contending creeds and dogmas.
Ever since my Lord's grace entered my mind,
My mind has never strayed to seek such distractions.
Accustomed long to contemplating love and compassion,
I have forgotten all difference between myself and others.

Accustomed long to meditating on my Guru as enhaloed over my head,
I have forgotten all those who rule by power and prestige.
Accustomed long to meditating on my guardian deities as inseparable from myself,
I have forgotten the lowly fleshly form.
Accustomed long to meditating on the secret whispered truths,
I have forgotten all that is said in written or printed books.
Accustomed, as I have been, to the study of the eternal Truth,
I've lost all knowledge of ignorance.

Accustomed, as I've been, to contemplating both nirvana and samsara as inherent in myself,
I have forgotten to think of hope and fear.
Accustomed, as I've been, to meditating on this life and the next as one,
I have forgotten the dread of birth and death.
Accustomed long to studying, by myself, my own experiences,
I have forgotten the need to seek the opinions of friends and brethren.
Accustomed long to applying each new experience to my own spiritual growth,
I have forgotten all creeds and dogmas.

Accustomed long to meditating on the Unborn, the Indestructible, the Unchanging,
I have forgotten all definitions of this or that particular goal.
Accustomed long to meditating on all visible phenomena as the Dharmakaya,
I have forgotten all meditations on what is produced by the mind.
Accustomed long to keeping my mind in the uncreated state of freedom,
I have forgotten all conventions and artificialities.

Accustomed long to humbleness, of body and mind,
I have forgotten the pride and haughty manner of the mighty.
Accustomed long to regarding my fleshly body as my hermitage,
I have forgotten the ease and comfort of retreats and monasteries.
Accustomed long to knowing the meaning of the Wordless,
I have forgotten the way to trace the roots of verbs, and the
sources of words and phrases.
You, 0 learned one, may trace out these things in your books


(This was all that was there. I am not sure if it is complete or incomplete.)

[NikolaiI]

Alone and Drinking Under the Moon,
by Li Po

Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,

and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon

accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are

friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.



Translated by: Rewi Allen

[NikolaiI]

"IV"
Kabir

Do not go to the garden of flowers!
O Friend! go not there;
In your body is the garden of flowers.
Take your seat on the thousand petals of the lotus, and there gaze on the Infinite Beauty.

[NikolaiI]

"The Fall,"
by Thomas Merton

There is no where in you a paradise that is no place and there
You do not enter except without a story.

To enter there is to become unnameable.

Whoever is nowhere is nobody, and therefore cannot exist except as unborn:
No disguise will avail him anything

Such a one is neither lost nor found.

But he who has an address is lost.

They fall, they fall into apartments and are securely established!

They find themselves in streets. They are licensed
To proceed from place to place
They now know their own names
They can name several friends and know
Their own telephones must some time ring.

If all telephones ring at once, if all names are shouted at once and all cars crash at one crossing:
If all cities explode and fly away in dust
Yet identities refuse to be lost. There is a name and a number for everyone.

There is a definite place for bodies, there are pigeon holes for ashes:
Such security can business buy!

Who would dare to go nameless in so secure a universe?
Yet, to tell the truth, only the nameless are at home in it.

They bear with them in the center of nowhere the unborn flower of nothing:
This is the paradise tree. It must remain unseen until words end and arguments are silent.

[NikolaiI]

The Great Way,
by Wu Men

The Great Way has no gate;
there are a thousand paths to it.
If you pass through the barrier,
you walk the universe alone.

[NikolaiI]

Fulfillment,
by Sri Chinmoy

The fulfilment of the mind
Has been the hope
Of the past few centuries.
Now the fulfilment of the heart
Will be the hope
Of the next generation
And of all the generations to come.
Indeed, this will be a unique contribution
Of the twenty-first century to humanity.

[pagebypage]

Prayer, by H. D. Thoreau

Great God, I ask for no meaner pelf
Than that I may not disappoint myself,
That in my action I may soar as high
As I can now discern with this clear eye.

And next in value, which thy kindness lends,
That I may greatly disappoint my friends,
Howe'er they think or hope that it may be,
They may not dream how thou'st distinguished me.

That my weak hand may equal my firm faith
And my life practice what my tongue saith
That my low conduct may not show
Nor my relenting lines
That I thy purpose did not know
Or overrated thy designs.

[NikolaiI]

Sarojini Naidu
Cradle Song

From groves of spice,
O'er fields of rice,
Athwart the lotus-stream,
I bring for you,
Aglint with dew,
A little lovely dream.


Sweet, shut your eyes,
The wild fire-flies
Dance through the fairy neem;
From the poppy-bole
For you I stole
A little lovely dream.


Dear eyes, good night,
In golden light
The stars around you gleam;
On you I Press
With soft caress
A little lovely dream.

[NikolaiI]

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:

How are you?

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:

What is God?

If you think that Truth can be known
From words,

If you think that the Sun and Ocean

Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,

O someone should start laughing!
Someone should start wildly laughing -Now!

Hafiz

[NikolaiI]

Several Times in the Last Week
by Hafiz

Ever since Happiness heard your name
It has been running through the streets
Trying to find you.

And several times in the last week,
God Himself has even come to my door-
Asking me for your address!

Once I said,
“God,
I thought You knew everything.
Why are You asking me
Where Your lovers live?”

And the Beloved replied,

Indeed, Hafiz, I do know Everything –
But it is fun playing dumb once in a while.
And I love intimate chat
And the warmth of your heart’s fire.

Maybe we should make this poem into a song-
I think it has potential!

How far does this refrain sound,
For I know it is a Truth:

Ever since Happiness heard your name,
It has been running through the streets
Trying to find you.
And several times in the last week,
God Himself has come to my door-
So sweetly asking for your address,
Wanting the beautiful warmth of your heart’s fire.

[blazeofglory]

"IV"
Kabir

Do not go to the garden of flowers!
O Friend! go not there;
In your body is the garden of flowers.
Take your seat on the thousand petals of the lotus, and there gaze on the Infinite Beauty.

The beauty of this poem is boundless. I never get tired of reading Kabir and whose ideas and philosophy transformed me. He is one of my few favorites whose ideas I always agree with on spiritual and mystic things

[blazeofglory]

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:

How are you?

I have a thousand brilliant lies
For the question:

What is God?

If you think that Truth can be known
From words,

If you think that the Sun and Ocean

Can pass through that tiny opening Called the mouth,

O someone should start laughing!
Someone should start wildly laughing -Now!

Hafiz

I feel liking weeping and tears flew my eyes after reading this poem. My all philosophical and all skeptical notions of things melted away after going through these beautiful lines!!!!!!!!!!!

[NikolaiI]

You are Light,
And you swim through the snow
like the turtle through the water
and you walk through the snow
like a fish in the sea,
and you walk through the snow,
and you have an army in tow,
and you are marching on a town.
You are a Pattern,
a Function of Life.
You are a melody
and a perfection.

If I say nothing else to you,
I will say,
Why do you think you have the power to destroy life,
but not the power to create?

You are a wave,
and you run through the snow
at the speed of a turtle
through the sea.

You are a traveler,
and as you sing,
you elevate the heavens,
and lower the seas.

You are a wise man,
and with your quiet voice,
worlds are led and
leaders are created.

You are God,
God of gods,
and with a single thought,
you can create infinite universes,
and infinite sources of knowledge.

With a thought you illuminate infinite universes,
and you reverberate a being of ultimate reality,
There is not one source but ininite sources,
and all are You.

[NikolaiI]

Harvest Hymn,
by Sarojini Naidu

Mens Voices:

LORD of the lotus, lord of the harvest,
Bright and munificent lord of the morn!
Thine is the bounty that prospered our sowing,
Thine is the bounty that nurtured our corn.
We bring thee our songs and our garlands for tribute,
The gold of our fields and the gold of our fruit;
O giver of mellowing radiance, we hail thee,
We praise thee, O Surya, with cymbal and flute.

Lord of the rainbow, lord of the harvest,
Great and beneficent lord of the main!
Thine is the mercy that cherished our furrows,

Thine is the mercy that fostered our grain.
We bring thee our thanks and our garlands for tribute,
The wealth of our valleys, new-garnered and ripe;
O sender of rain and the dewfall, we hail thee,
We praise thee, Varuna, with cymbal and pipe.


Womens Voices:

Queen of the gourd-flower, queen of the har- vest,
Sweet and omnipotent mother, O Earth!
Thine is the plentiful bosom that feeds us,
Thine is the womb where our riches have birth.
We bring thee our love and our garlands for tribute,
With gifts of thy opulent giving we come;
O source of our manifold gladness, we hail thee,
We praise thee, O Prithvi, with cymbal and drum.


All Voices:

Lord of the Universe, Lord of our being,
Father eternal, ineffable Om!
Thou art the Seed and the Scythe of our harvests,
Thou art our Hands and our Heart and our Home.
We bring thee our lives and our labours for tribute,
Grant us thy succour, thy counsel, thy care.
O Life of all life and all blessing, we hail thee,
We praise thee, O Bramha, with cymbal and prayer

[NikolaiI]

From the Large Jug, Drink


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.



From: Drunk on the Wine of the Beloved
Translated by Thomas Rain Crowe

[NikolaiI]

We Might Have To
Medicate You
by Hafiz


Resist your temptation to lie
By speaking of separation from God,

Otherwise,
We might have to medicate
You.

In the ocean
A lot goes on beneath your eyes.

Listen,
They have clinics there too
For the insane
Who persist in saying things like:

"I am independent from the
Sea,

God is not always around

Gently
Pressing against
My body."


From: 'The Gift'
Translated by Daniel Ladinsky

[NikolaiI]

A Potted Plant,
by Hafiz


I pull a sun from my coin purse each day.

And at night I let my pet the moon
Run freely into the sky meadow.

If I whistled,
She would turn her head and look at me.

If I then waved my arms,
She would come back wagging a marvelous tail
Of stars.

There are always a few men like me
In this world

Who are house-sitting for God.
We share His royal duties:

I water each day a favorite potted plant
Of His--
This earth.

Ask the Friend for love.
Ask Him again.

For I have learned that every heart will get
What it prays for
Most.

From: 'The Subject Tonight Is Love'
Translated by Daniel Ladinsky

[NikolaiI]

Munajat
An Ancient Dervish Hymn
composed by Abdullah Ansari


In Your painful mystery of love,
lovers find the cure for pain,
wandering through the desert of longing,
crying aloud, Allah, Allah.

Drunk with delight, censored by men,
eyes aflame with desparate love,
Your friends cry out like Moses on the mountain,
"Lord, reveal yourself to me."

When You consume a heart with Your Love,
You scatter its ashes on the wind.
What need have we for separate identity
when we know You as the only Truth?

Ever present, how can I search?
Always aware, what can I pray?
When You glance with infinite Mercy,
how can any separation be?

We speak only to praise Your Name;
we seek only to express Your Delight.
Ruined are we, annihilated we;
slain by You, we are happy to be slain.

Paradise, brilliant and pure,
without Your Face is worse than hell.
A single glimpse of Your true Essence
brings to naught every heavenly delight.

When there dawns a glimpse of Your Love,
love of finitude fades away.
What drunken hearts You give to Your friends;
looking at themselves, they see only You.

Free us from faces, revealing Your Face;
free us from doors, opening Your Door.
If You but once call me Love's slave,
my bliss will surpass the bliss of Your Throne.

Your perfect Mercy cancels our faults;
rings of slavehood adorn our ears.
You raised us up before time began;
we are Your guests: treat us as You will.

What do I care for the play of Paradise?
You make my every glance Paradise.
When You gaze into my eyes.
no duality can arise.

What this poor one desires of You
is more than the wealth of a thousand kings.
Every life seeks blessings from You;
I am asking for You alone.

This faqir has no name and no shame.
This poor one knows neither peace nor war.
True rank is never turban and silken robe:
royalty springs from the heart of light.

Creatures are drunk with Your wine;
I am drunk with the Wine Bearer.
Their drunkenness is the life of praise;
I am lost in Your Silence alone.

You are what they praise at the holy Kaaba;
you are what they seek at temples and shrines.
I am free from every religion,
crying aloud, Allah, Allah.

You place a pearl on Adam's brow,
dust of rebellion on Satan's head.
Satan seeks You and finds but himself;
Adam seeks himself and finds only You.

Creation is hidden within Your Heart,
yet it remains unaware.
You are concealed within our heart,
still we remain unaware.

All will is Yours. What can I will?
I want no thing. I want no world.
I cannot care for heavenly delight,
seeking only the delight of You.

What must I do to merge into You?
My heart's blood streams through my eyes.
I hold no key to unlock Your door,
madly crying, Allah, Allah.

Whoever knows You encounters Your saints,
cool water for the thirsty soul.
Heavenly states for them are lke thorns;
they seek only the rose of You.

Pious acts make the mind proud;
forgetfulness brings repentance.
I rejoice in the night of separation,
for the dawn of mystic union is near.

You exist. I exist not.
Everyone is lost in You.
You are closer than my soul.
This is all that need be known.

This poor one is mad with true joy.
This faqir is king of all worlds.
Receiving just an atom of Your Love,
every king and world disappears.

Adoring You has destroyed my ease;
now I rejoice in tests and trials.
Just a mirror for Your Reflection,
I am never separate from Allah.

Love's union is calamity;
its agony is sheer delight.
I neither possess what I used to know,
nor know what it is I now possess.

You are the goa; Your friends are the way.
Earthly fires are drops of dew.
Without seeing You, Paradise is prison;
pleasure is poison without Your Face.

If You bring us to trial, we have no defense.
Grant our lives Your Own Purity.
Give our hearts desire for You only.
Resurrect us through Your Grace.

Ther are no shores in Your ocean of light.
Your mystery can never be revealed.
Lend us Your speech to thank and praise You;
we have nothing of our own to give.

Heart beats only with affection for You;
lungs breathe only with love for You.
From roses above my tomb
streams the fragrance of fidelity.

For free You create. You sustain us for free.
You are not a merchant of gems.
You never sell the precious Resurrection,
freely granting union to all lives.

Submission is Your luminous way;
our actions are Your Grace alone.
Remove from us the sense of obligation;
never veil from us Your Face.

When I remember You, sorrow is joy.
This is my secret door to Truth.
Without the taste of Your Identity,
praying and learning are illusory.

My direction of prayer is Your Face;
my victory banner reads, All is He.
Paradise is not my concern;
hell is not my anxiety.

Beginners on the way speak of the Truth,
but lovers possess neither word nor voice.
Those who desire this world are insane;
those who long for heaven are inane.

Fasting, vigil, pilgrimage
are labors of the wage earner.
Fall in love, the royal crown of falme.
"I am Truth," cires Mansur al-Hallaj.

Live in ecstasy but never speak aloud.
To find Truth, become afflicted by love.
Know what remains beyond annihilation
when there exists neither fasting nor prayer.

My eyes are weeping with love's agony
as I dance on the mystic way.
possessing nothing, not even myself,
crying out, "Poverty is my pride."

This traveler on the true path of love
tastes the peace of poverty,
liberation from personal existence.
What great bliss it is to be free.

The mystic guide opens the way.
Brilliant space surrounds the soul.
The rose of light, its petals Divine Names,
blossoms in the grateful heart.

The mystic guides pours the true wine,
his tears of love flooding the world,
his blessed face, a golden Quran,
shining as the rising sun.

Strive to become the true human being:
one who knows love, one who knows pain.
Be full, be humble, be utterly silent,
be the bowl of wine passed from hand to hand.

[hoope]

Munajat
An Ancient Dervish Hymn
composed by Abdullah Ansari


In Your painful mystery of love,
lovers find the cure for pain,
wandering through the desert of longing,
crying aloud, Allah, Allah.

Drunk with delight, censored by men,
eyes aflame with desparate love,
Your friends cry out like Moses on the mountain,
"Lord, reveal yourself to me."

When You consume a heart with Your Love,
You scatter its ashes on the wind.
What need have we for separate identity
when we know You as the only Truth?

Ever present, how can I search?
Always aware, what can I pray?
When You glance with infinite Mercy,
how can any separation be?

We speak only to praise Your Name;
we seek only to express Your Delight.
Ruined are we, annihilated we;
slain by You, we are happy to be slain.

Paradise, brilliant and pure,
without Your Face is worse than hell.
A single glimpse of Your true Essence
brings to naught every heavenly delight.

When there dawns a glimpse of Your Love,
love of finitude fades away.
What drunken hearts You give to Your friends;
looking at themselves, they see only You.

Free us from faces, revealing Your Face;
free us from doors, opening Your Door.
If You but once call me Love's slave,
my bliss will surpass the bliss of Your Throne.

Your perfect Mercy cancels our faults;
rings of slavehood adorn our ears.
You raised us up before time began;
we are Your guests: treat us as You will.

What do I care for the play of Paradise?
You make my every glance Paradise.
When You gaze into my eyes.
no duality can arise.

What this poor one desires of You
is more than the wealth of a thousand kings.
Every life seeks blessings from You;
I am asking for You alone.

This faqir has no name and no shame.
This poor one knows neither peace nor war.
True rank is never turban and silken robe:
royalty springs from the heart of light.

Creatures are drunk with Your wine;
I am drunk with the Wine Bearer.
Their drunkenness is the life of praise;
I am lost in Your Silence alone.

You are what they praise at the holy Kaaba;
you are what they seek at temples and shrines.
I am free from every religion,
crying aloud, Allah, Allah.

You place a pearl on Adam's brow,
dust of rebellion on Satan's head.
Satan seeks You and finds but himself;
Adam seeks himself and finds only You.

Creation is hidden within Your Heart,
yet it remains unaware.
You are concealed within our heart,
still we remain unaware.

All will is Yours. What can I will?
I want no thing. I want no world.
I cannot care for heavenly delight,
seeking only the delight of You.

What must I do to merge into You?
My heart's blood streams through my eyes.
I hold no key to unlock Your door,
madly crying, Allah, Allah.

Whoever knows You encounters Your saints,
cool water for the thirsty soul.
Heavenly states for them are lke thorns;
they seek only the rose of You.

Pious acts make the mind proud;
forgetfulness brings repentance.
I rejoice in the night of separation,
for the dawn of mystic union is near.

You exist. I exist not.
Everyone is lost in You.
You are closer than my soul.
This is all that need be known.

This poor one is mad with true joy.
This faqir is king of all worlds.
Receiving just an atom of Your Love,
every king and world disappears.

Adoring You has destroyed my ease;
now I rejoice in tests and trials.
Just a mirror for Your Reflection,
I am never separate from Allah.

Love's union is calamity;
its agony is sheer delight.
I neither possess what I used to know,
nor know what it is I now possess.

You are the goa; Your friends are the way.
Earthly fires are drops of dew.
Without seeing You, Paradise is prison;
pleasure is poison without Your Face.

If You bring us to trial, we have no defense.
Grant our lives Your Own Purity.
Give our hearts desire for You only.
Resurrect us through Your Grace.

Ther are no shores in Your ocean of light.
Your mystery can never be revealed.
Lend us Your speech to thank and praise You;
we have nothing of our own to give.

Heart beats only with affection for You;
lungs breathe only with love for You.
From roses above my tomb
streams the fragrance of fidelity.

For free You create. You sustain us for free.
You are not a merchant of gems.
You never sell the precious Resurrection,
freely granting union to all lives.

Submission is Your luminous way;
our actions are Your Grace alone.
Remove from us the sense of obligation;
never veil from us Your Face.

When I remember You, sorrow is joy.
This is my secret door to Truth.
Without the taste of Your Identity,
praying and learning are illusory.

My direction of prayer is Your Face;
my victory banner reads, All is He.
Paradise is not my concern;
hell is not my anxiety.

Beginners on the way speak of the Truth,
but lovers possess neither word nor voice.
Those who desire this world are insane;
those who long for heaven are inane.

Fasting, vigil, pilgrimage
are labors of the wage earner.
Fall in love, the royal crown of falme.
"I am Truth," cires Mansur al-Hallaj.

Live in ecstasy but never speak aloud.
To find Truth, become afflicted by love.
Know what remains beyond annihilation
when there exists neither fasting nor prayer.

My eyes are weeping with love's agony
as I dance on the mystic way.
possessing nothing, not even myself,
crying out, "Poverty is my pride."

This traveler on the true path of love
tastes the peace of poverty,
liberation from personal existence.
What great bliss it is to be free.

The mystic guide opens the way.
Brilliant space surrounds the soul.
The rose of light, its petals Divine Names,
blossoms in the grateful heart.

The mystic guides pours the true wine,
his tears of love flooding the world,
his blessed face, a golden Quran,
shining as the rising sun.

Strive to become the true human being:
one who knows love, one who knows pain.
Be full, be humble, be utterly silent,
be the bowl of wine passed from hand to hand.

Oh Nikolai !
This poem is so great .. and its words are so spiritual ! and muslims do say many of these in their prayers...

I really love it ! :)

[hoope]

1 My God,
who can have tasted the sweetness of Thy love,
then wanted another in place of Thee?
Who can have become intimate with Thy nearness,
then sought removal from Thee?
2 My God, place us with him
whom Thou hast
chosen for Thy nearness and Thy friendship,
purified through Thy affection and Thy love,
given yearning for the meeting with Thee,
made pleased with Thy decree,
granted gazing upon Thy face,
shown the favour of Thy good pleasure,
given refuge from separation from Thee and Thy loathing,
settled in a sure sitting place in Thy neighbourhood,
singled out for true knowledge of Thee,
made worthy for worship of Thee,
whose heart Thou hast captivated with Thy will,
whom Thou hast picked for contemplating Thee,
whose look Thou hast made empty for Thee,
whose breast Thou hast freed for Thy love,
whom Thou hast made
desirous of what is with Thee,
inspired with Thy remembrance,
allotted thanksgiving to Thee,
occupied with obeying Thee,
turned into one of Thy righteous creatures,
chosen for whispered prayer to Thee,
and from whom Thou hast cut off all things
which cut him off from Thee!
3 O God,
place us among those
whose habit is rejoicing in Thee and yearning for Thee,
whose time is spent in sighing and moaning!
Their foreheads are bowed down before Thy mightiness,
their eyes wakeful in Thy service,
their tears flowing in dread of Thee,
their hearts fixed upon Thy love,
their cores shaken with awe of Thee.
O He
the lights of whose holiness
induce wonder in the eyes of His lovers,
the glories of whose face
arouse the longing of the hearts of His knowers!
O Furthest Wish of the hearts of the yearners!
O Utmost Limit of the hopes of the lovers!
I ask from Thee love for Thee,
love for those who love Thee,
love for every work which will join me to Thy nearness,
and that Thou makest Thyself more beloved to me
than anything other than Thee
and makest
my love for Thee
lead to Thy good pleasure,
and my yearning for Thee
protect against disobeying Thee!
Oblige me by allowing me to gaze upon Thee,
gaze upon me with the eye of affection and tenderness,
turn not Thy face away from me,
and make me one of the people of happiness with Thee
and favoured position!
O Responder,
O Most Merciful of the merciful!

[dizzydoll]

I too loved your poem Nikolai. Plus there are so many verses that stand out I didnt know which to choose. So here are two

Y
ou place a pearl on Adam's brow,
dust of rebellion on Satan's head.
Satan seeks You and finds but himself;
Adam seeks himself and finds only You.

Creation is hidden within Your Heart,
yet it remains unaware.
You are concealed within our heart,
still we remain unaware.

Excellent :thumbsup:

[NikolaiI]

I'm glad you like it, Hope and Dizzy! :)

I know what you mean Dizzy it's the same for me. So many parts and stanzas that are great.

Hope that is a really lovely poem you posted, who is it by?

[hoope]

Hope that is a really lovely poem you posted, who is it by?

Its also Munajaat.. for Imam Ali ,the fourth caliph in the muslim state !

[NikolaiI]

Dare You See A Soul
by Emily Dickenson

Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
Then crouch within the door --
Red -- is the Fire's common tint --
But when the vivid Ore
Has vanquished Flame's conditions,
It quivers from the Forge
Without a color, but the light
Of unanointed Blaze.
Least Village has its Blacksmith
Whose Anvil's even ring
Stands symbol for the finer Forge
That soundless tugs -- within --
Refining these impatient Ores
With Hammer, and with Blaze
Until the Designated Light
Repudiate the Forge -

[NikolaiI]

Its also Munajaat.. for Imam Ali ,the fourth caliph in the muslim state !

for, or by?

[NikolaiI]

The Illusion of Love,
by Sarojini Naidu

Beloved, you may be as all men say
Only a transient spark
Of flickering flame set in loam of clay –
I care not …since you kindle all my dark
With the immortal lustres of the day.

And as all men deem, dearest, you may be
Only a common shell
Chance-winnowed by the sea-winds from the sea –
The subtle murmurs of eternity.

And tho’ you are, like men or mortal race,
Only a hapless thing
That Death may mar and destiny efface –
I care not … since unto my heart you bring
The very vision of God’s dwelling-place.

[NikolaiI]

We are as the Flute,
Rumi

We are as the flute, and the music in us is from thee;
we are as the mountain and the echo in us is from thee.

We are as pieces of chess engaged in victory and defeat:
our victory and defeat is from thee, O thou whose qualities are comely!

Who are we, O Thou soul of our souls,
that we should remain in being beside thee?

We and our existences are really non-existence;
thou art the absolute Being which manifests the perishable.

We all are lions, but lions on a banner:
because of the wind they are rushing onward from moment to moment.

Their onward rush is visible, and the wind is unseen:
may that which is unseen not fail from us!

Our wind whereby we are moved and our being are of thy gift;
our whole existence is from thy bringing into being.

Masnavi Book, I, 599-607

[NikolaiI]

In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest,
where no one sees you,
but sometimes I do,
and that sight becomes this art.

by Rumi

[NikolaiI]

The Valley Wind

Living in retirement beyond the World,
Silently enjoying isolation,
I pull the rope of my door tighter
And stuff my window with roots and ferns.
My spirit is tuned to the Spring-season:
At the fall of the year
There is autumn in my heart.
Thus imitating cosmic changes,
My cottage becomes a Universe.

~Lu Yun translated by Arthur Waley

[NikolaiI]

No past.
No future.

Open Mind.
Open Heart.

Complete attention.
No reservations.

That's all.

~Scott Morrison

[NikolaiI]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The Holy Longing"
Johann Wolfgang Goethe

Tell a wise person, or else keep silent.
Because the massman will mock it right away.
I praise what is truly alive,
what longs to be burned to death.

In the calm water of the love-nights,
where you were begotten, where you have begotten,
a strange feeling comes over you
when you see the silent candle burning.

Now you are no longer caught
in the obsession with darkness,
and a desire for higher lovemaking
sweeps you upward.

Distance does not make you falter,
now, arriving in magic, flying,
and finally, insane for the light,
you are the butterfly and you are gone.

And so long as you haven't experienced
this: to die and so to grow,
you are only a troubled guest
on the dark earth.

~translated by Robert Bly

[NikolaiI]

On the road

My friend, the traveler
Remember
We are here,
Hidden under various disguises,
Posted
As guards, guides and companions
Along your life's journey,
Waiting
To give you assistance
To extend a helping hand
To provide succor.

We are
But a reflection of your virtues
Manifesting in time
Of necessity.
Savings
Placed by your forgotten
Selfless deeds
In the inexhaustible
Divine
Treasure-house.
Yours for the taking
When the need arises.

We are
The friend
Of friends
Whose face is always hidden
Yet ever revealed
In the silent smile
Of your heart,
In the caress of the wind,
In the soothing coolness of spring water.

And the secret is
That
Forgetting yourself
You too
Are one
Of
Us.

_()_
yosy

[NikolaiI]

Keep your heart clear and transparent
And you will never be bound.
A single disturbed thought, though,
Creates ten thousand distractions.
Let myriad things captivate you
And you'll go further and further astray.
How painful to see people
All wrapped up in themselves.

~Ryokan

[NikolaiI]

This dharma as it has been directly entrusted
by buddha ancestors.
Now that you have realized it
you must guard it mindfully.

Snow heaped in a silver bowl,
a heron fading into the bright moon.
Similar but unequal.
Place them side by side
and you will see which is which.

The meaning is not in words.
Inquiring students seek further.
Moving forward creates pitfalls.
Avoidance leads to a standstill.

Faced with a great wall of fire,
turning your back on it and touching it are both wrong.
Expressing it in colorful words
only stains it.

Midnight is bright,
dawn brings no dew.
Things are truth itself
to be used for removing delusion.
This is not created
and yet not inexpressible.

As form and image face each other
in a bright mirror,
you are not it
but it is you.

It is like a baby
perfectly possessing five freedoms:
Not coming, not going,
not rising, not staying...

And goo goo wa wa -
words that are not words.
In the end nothing is grasped
because speech is not precise.

In the double-split hexagrams
the particular and the general integrate.
When the lines are closed they become three,
and its final change makes five.

A blade of zhi grass has five flavors,
A vajra has five points.
Within the general, something marvelous lies.
Drumming and singing go together.

Penetrating the source, penetrating the paths.
Here is a short path, here is a long path.
If you miss it, that's a good sign.
Don't neglect it.

What is natural and inconceivable
belongs neither to delusion nor enlightenment.
Causes and conditions right at this moment
shine completely in silence.

So minute that it penetrates any space.
So enormous that it exceeds all bounds.
The slightest difference
puts it out of tune.

Because the basic teachings of sudden and gradual
have been set up,
the Zen school has become divided.
These ways have become standard.
Even though you master such teachings
the truth keeps on escaping.

You may sit still but waver inside -
a tied up horse, or a cowering rat.
The Ancient Teacher pitied us
and transmitted the dharma.

Because of our delusions
we say black is white.
When delusions disappear
understanding reveals itself.

If you wish to conform to the old ways,
take a lesson from the past.
People trying to attain the buddha way
by gazing for ten eons at a tree
are like a tiger with tattered ears
or a hobbled horse.

A greedy mind sees
rare treasures.
A surprised mind sees
raccoons and white bulls.

Legendary bowman Yi with his skill
shoots the mark a hundred paces away.
When arrowheads meet head-on,
is it only a matter of skill?

Right when a wooden man sings
a stone woman gets up and dances.
It's not within the reach of knowledge
nor does it admit ideas.

Retainers serve their lord;
children obey their father.
Without obedience there is no respect;
without service there is no civic virtue.

Conceal your practice, work inside.
Be ignorant, look foolish.
Just keep on doing it.
This is called host with host.

From: Essential Zen eds. Kazuaki Tanahashi & Tensho David Schneider

[NikolaiI]

Ghazal 107
by Hafiz

May your goodness always increase
And your smiling face never cease
In our head the thought of your love
Every day is on the increase.
Every cedar and every spruce
From your height may you hear their pleas
The eye not intrigued by thee
Its tear drops a bloody disease.
Your eye for mesmerizing hearts
Is a magician and master-tease.
Wherever a heart is longing for thee
Impatiently shears its own fleece.
The beauty of all the lovers
Beside your swan is ugly geese.
The heart that is out of love’s lease
From the circle of union release.
Hafiz’s soul, your ruby lips ease
Away from base lips, if you please.

[NikolaiI]

The Stairway of Existence
by Hafiz

We
Are not
In pursuit of formalities
Or fake religious
Laws,

For through the stairway of existence
We have come to God's
Door.

We are
People who need to love, because
Love is the soul's life,

Love is simply creation's greatest joy.

Through
The stairway of existence,
O, through the stairway of existence, Hafiz

Have
You now come,
Have we all now come to
The Beloved's
Door.

[NikolaiI]

I Am Mad

I am mad with love
And no one understands my plight.
Only the wounded
Understand the agonies of the wounded,
When the fire rages in the heart.
Only the jeweller knows the value of the jewel,
Not the one who lets it go.
In pain I wander from door to door,
But could not find a doctor.
Says Mira: Harken, my Master,
Mira's pain will subside
When Shyam comes as the doctor.



- Mirabai

[NikolaiI]

Do not go to the garden of flowers!
Do not go to the garden of flowers!
O Friend ! go not there;
In your body is the garden of flowers.

Take your seat on the thousand petals of the lotus,
and there gaze on the Infinite Beauty.


Kabir

[NikolaiI]

One with the River,
by Guthema Roba

I’m one with the river

The river that snores

The river that moans. The river that roars…

Every sound of its roar is my breath.

Its rise and its fall is a sign of life

In the depth of my bone

It is the color of my curiosity.

My courage and my cowardice.

Every bit of its flow is my hope, my strength

Tears of my bliss, whisper of my love.

Magic of creativity. My singing age.
I’m one with a mountain.

Every part of its rise

And every minute of its silence

Is my song that’s not sang yet.

My denied freedom, my hushed liberty.

Every speechless stone is my deep sleep.
I’m one with the Sun, with the Sky, with the Moon, the galaxies.. the milky way…

Their every twinkle, their every stare,

Their every frown, their every smile

Their every caress is my wakefullness.

Their divine warmth is my longing for newness.

I’m one with the woods

Every single wood is the renewal of my physical body

The song of the beasts in the wood is my heartbeat,

The shade of every single tree is my serenity

I’m one with a meadow, with the moors

Every single blade of leaves is my flesh under my skin

Every single grass is my blood cell.

The flowers in the grass are laugher and sorrow in my heart.

Every road that crosses the meadow

Is part of me that sings with light.

My presence. The awareness of the Now
I’m one with a farmer.

His bellowing bulls, his bleating sheep

His frolicking horses and kicking mules

Are the age of innocence.

The cord between a cow and the calf

And the milk in between is immortal tenderness

Of my mother.

The serene thatched, lonely houses

Are my purple moments

when I meet the formless, the ageless. The nameless

I’m one with the winds.

Every sound of its whistle

Is the poem I am composing.

Every groan of its might is

The message in this poem

And every sigh of its fury is my suppressed feelings.

I’m one with the earth.

Her hills and her gorges are my silent tongue.

Every speck of her dust is my beautiful death

My buried intensities. My spent hours, my evenings.

Light enters me through your smile

And it departs from me though your sobs

And it returns to me again through your silence

Through everyone of you,

I learn how to live

And through everyone of you

I practice the art of dying.

[NikolaiI]

The House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm,
by Wallace Stevens

The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The reader became the book; and summer night

Was like the conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.

The words were spoken as if there was no book,
Except that the reader leaned above the page,

Wanted to lean, wanted much to be
The scholar to whom his book is true, to whom

The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
The house was quiet because it had to be.

The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
The access of perfection to the page.

And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is no other meaning, itself

Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.

[NikolaiI]

Live your Briliance,
by Mary Pat Nally


Brilliance
Lies ahead
Begging to be claimed
To be held
To be honored

A lighthouse
A flame
A star

Leading the way
for each of us
To see
The brilliance
that lies within
each of us

The love
The compassion
The gentle hand
That holds an inner knowing

A connection
Between us

A connection
that touches hearts
across the world

For, In the Divine
We all
Are one

[NikolaiI]

THE TRUE SUFI
Rumi

What makes the Sufi? Purity of heart;
Not the patched mantle and the lust perverse
Of those vile earth-bound men who steal his name.
He in all dregs discerns the essence pure:
In hardship ease, in tribulation joy.
The phantom sentries, who with batons drawn
Guard Beauty's place-gate and curtained bower,
Give way before him, unafraid he passes,
And showing the King's arrow, enters in.

R. A. Nicholson

'Persian Poems', an Anthology of verse translations
edited by A.J.Arberry, Everyman's Library, 1972

[NikolaiI]

To Weep Because
by Sri Aurobindo

To weep because a glorious sun has set
Which the next morn shall gild the east again;
To mourn that mighty strengths must yield to fate
Which by that force a double strength attain;
To shrink from pain without whose friendly strife
Joy could not be, to make a terror of death
Who smiling beckons us to farther life,
And is a bridge for the persistent breath;
Despair and anguish and the tragic grief
Of dry set eyes, or such disastrous tears
As rend the heart, though meant for its relief,
And all man's ghastly company of fears
Are born of folly that believes the span
Of life the limit of immortal man.

[NikolaiI]

An Infant In Your Arms,
by Rumi

The tide of my love
Has risen so high let me flood
over

You.

Close your eyes for a moment
And maybe all your
fears and fantasies

Will end.

If that happened
God would become an infant in your

Arms

And then you
Would have to nurse all

Creation!



From “The Gift” by Daniel Ladinsky.

[NikolaiI]

In a Thousand Forms,
by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
English version by John White


You may hide yourself in a thousand forms,
Still, All-beloved, I recognize you;
You may cover yourself in magic mists,
All-present, I can always tell that it is you.

I discover you as well, All-beautifully-growing,
In the cypress's pure young surge,
In the stream's fresh, living rush,
All-enchanting, I know you well.

When rising jets of water unfurl,
All-playful, how glad I am to see you;
When clouds form and transform themselves,
All-manifold, I discern you in them.

In the blossoming tapestry that covers the meadow,
I see your All-colorful, starry beauty;
When ivies reach their thousand arms around,
I meet you, All-embracing.

When morning lights the mountain range
I greet you there too, All-brightening,
Then, as the sky grows round above me,
All-heart-expanding, it is you I inhale.

What, with out and inner senses, I know,
I know only through you, All-teaching;
When I name Allah's hundred names,
A name, with each name, re-echoes for you.

[NikolaiI]

The Touch of the Master's Hand

It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"

But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.

"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.

But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.

Myra Brooks Welch

[NikolaiI]

Fireflies
by Rabindranath Tagore


I touch God in my song
as the hill touches the far-away sea
with its waterfall.

The butterfly counts not months but moments,
and has time enough.

Let my love, like sunlight, surround you
and give you illumined freedom.

Love remains a secret even when spoken,
for only a lover truly knows that he is loved.

Emancipation from the bondage of the soil
is no freedom for the tree.

In love I pay my endless debt to thee
for what thou art.

[NikolaiI]

Auguries of Innocence,
by William Blake

To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.
A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell through all its regions.
A dog starved at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.
A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.
A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-coc.k clipped and armed for fight
Does the rising sun affright.
Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.
The wild deer wandering here and there
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misused breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.
The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be beloved by men.
He who the ox to wrath has moved
Shall never be by woman loved.
The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.
The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh.
He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.
The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of Envy's foot.
The poison of the honey-bee
Is the artist's jealousy.
The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so:
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know
Through the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The babe is more than swaddling bands,
Throughout all these human lands;
Tools were made and born were hands,
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;
This is caught by females bright
And returned to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.
The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes Revenge! in realms of death.
The beggar's rags fluttering in air
Does to rags the heavens tear.
The soldier armed with sword and gun
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.
One mite wrung from the labourer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands,
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole nation sell and buy.
He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mocked in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.
The questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.
The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.
When gold and gems adorn the plough
To peaceful arts shall Envy bow.
A riddle or the cricket's cry
Is to doubt a fit reply.
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.
If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.
The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding sheet.
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.
Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born.
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through the eye
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

[NikolaiI]

Hakuin's Song of Zazen
by Hakuin (http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/H/Hakuin/index.htm)

All beings are primarily Buddhas.
It is like water and ice:
There is no ice apart from water;
There are no Buddhas apart from beings.

Not knowing how close the truth is to them,
Beings seek for it afar -- what a pity!
They are like those who, being in the midst of water,
Cry out for water, feeling thirst.

They are like the son of the rich man,
Who, wandering away from his father,
Goes astray amongst the poor.
It is all due to their ignorance
That beings transmigrate in the darkness
Of the Six Paths of existence.

When they wander from darkness to darkness,
How can they ever be free from birth-and-death?

As for the Dhyana practice as taught in the Mahayana,
No amount of praise can exhaust its merits.
The Six Paramitas--beginning with the Giving, Observing the Precepts,
And other good deeds, variously enumerated,
Such as Nembutsu, Repentance, Moral Training, and so on -
All are finally reducible to the practice of Dhyana.

The merit of Dhyana practice, even during a single sitting,
Erases the countless sins accumulated in the past.
Where then are the Evil Paths to misguide us?
The Pure Land cannot be far away.

Those who, for once, listening to the Dharma
In all humility,
Praise it and faithfully follow it,
Will be endowed with innumerable merits.

But how much more so when you turn your eyes within yourselves
And have a glimpse into your self-nature!
You find that the self-nature is no-nature -
The truth permitting no idle sophistry.
For you, then, open the gate leading to the oneness of cause and effect;
Before you, then, lies a straight road of non-duality and non-trinity.

When you understand that form is the form of the formless,
Your coming-and-going takes place nowhere else but where you are.
When you understand that thought is the thought of the thought-less.
Your singing-and-dancing is no other than the voice of the Dharma.
How boundless is the sky of Samadhi!
How refreshingly bright is the moon of the Fourfold Wisdom!
Being so is there anything you lack?
As the Absolute presents itself before you
The place where you stand is the Land of the Lotus,
And your person - the body of the Buddha.

[NikolaiI]

I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the Spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.

What is precious is never to forget
The essential delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth.
Never to deny its pleasure in the morning simple light
Nor its grave evening demand for love.
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how these names are fêted by the waving grass
And by the streamers of white cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life
Who wore at their hearts the fire's center.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honor.

Stephen Spender

[NikolaiI]

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

by, Emily Dickinson

[NikolaiI]

Fireflies
by, Rabindranath Tagore

I touch God in my song
as the hill touches the far-away sea
with its waterfall.

The butterfly counts not months but moments,
and has time enough.

Let my love, like sunlight, surround you
and give you illumined freedom.

Love remains a secret even when spoken,
for only a lover truly knows that he is loved.

Emancipation from the bondage of the soil
is no freedom for the tree.

In love I pay my endless debt to thee
for what thou art.

[Haunted]

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

by, Emily Dickinson

love this one. Thanks Nik for posting.

[YesNo]

Invitation, by Sri Aurobindo

With wind and the weather beating round me
Up to the hill and the moorland I go.
Who will come with me? Who will climb with me?
Wade through the brook and tramp through the snow?

Not in the petty circle of cities
Cramped by your doors and your walls I dwell;
Over me God is blue in the welkin,
Against me the wind and the storm rebel.

I sport with solitude here in my regions,
Of misadventure have made me a friend.
Who would live largely? Who would live freely?
Here to the wind-swept uplands ascend.

I am the Lord of tempest and mountain,
I am the Spirit of freedom and pride.
Stark must he be and a kinsman to danger
Who shares my kingdom and walks at my side.

Thanks for posting these.

I found Sri Aurobindo's "The Life Divine" in the library and started reading it because of your posts.

[hoope]

love this one. Thanks Nik for posting.

Yea that is one wonderful poem .. i agree
Good Poem to post Nikolai :)

[NikolaiI]

You're welcome Haunted and thanks Hoope.

YesNo, I'm so glad to hear that. Tell me how you find it. I didn't read all of it yet... I guess it was about a year ago, I read the first 150 pages or so, haven't read more but it was one of the amazing books I've ever read. I will probably buy it soon to finish reading it.

[hellsapoppin]

Don't know if the subject of Jones Very has been discussed (if it has, sorry for the repeat). He wrote some very beautiful religious poetry. Unfortunately, he went crazy and his poems have gotten a bad rap over the years. But they are actually quite appealing.

http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/transcendentalism/authors/very/verypoems.html

[YesNo]

YesNo, I'm so glad to hear that. Tell me how you find it. I didn't read all of it yet... I guess it was about a year ago, I read the first 150 pages or so, haven't read more but it was one of the amazing books I've ever read.

I don't know much about Hinduism, but I find it interesting. So far I've only read Eknath Easwaran's commentary on the Bhagavad Gita which I think has influenced me more than I expected it would. The idea of the "gunas" is starting to make sense to me. And there is also Amal Bhakta's translations of some of the stories in the Bhagavatam which keep going through my mind: http://spiritdimension.com/hinduism_/020/amal-bhakta-mystical-stories-from-the-bhagavatam--tw.htm

It looks like The Divine Life might be the third book that holds my interest. It seems that Sri Aurobindo has a view of evolution that expects it to continue forward toward ever greater consciousness and this consciousness was in matter from the beginning. At least that is how I understand it at the moment after only reading a small part of it.

A few years ago I became aware of "near death experiences". Although I have not had one myself, I've been testing religious ideas based on the assumption that NDEs are not something that should be explained away.

[NikolaiI]

Wow, thanks hells! :) His poetry is totally awesome. I reocognize him, as if I've heard of him once, but don't really know him. But now I want to read more poems by him. No one's posted about him before you.

YesNo,
If the link I got from you came up right... you're talking about Amal Bhakta dasa. I have his reading of the Bhagatavam, it's absolutely incredible. I listen to it quite a lot.

[NikolaiI]

The Fair Morning
by, Jones Very

The clear bright morning, with its scented air
And gaily waving flowers, is here again;
Man's heart is lifted with the voice of prayer,
And peace descends, as falls the gentle rain;
The tuneful birds, that all the night have slept,
Take up at dawn the evening's dying lay,
When sleep upon their eyelids gently crept
And stole with stealthy craft their song away. High overhead the
forest's swaying boughs
Sprinkle with drops the traveler on his way;
He hears far off the tinkling bells of cows
Driven to pasture at the break of day;
With vigorous step he passes swift along,
Making the woods reecho with his song.

[NikolaiI]

A Moment's Indulgence, by Rabindranath Tagore

I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works
that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.

Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite,
and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil.

Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and
the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove.

Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing
dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.

[NikolaiI]

Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is Hatred, let me sow Love.
Where there is Injury, Pardon.
Where there is Doubt, Faith.
Where there is Despair, Hope.
Where there is Darkness, Light, and
Where there is Sadness, Joy.

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much
seek to be consoled as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved, as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

[mukta581]

I Am Mad

I am mad with love
And no one understands my plight.
Only the wounded
Understand the agonies of the wounded,
When the fire rages in the heart.
Only the jeweller knows the value of the jewel,
Not the one who lets it go.
In pain I wander from door to door,
But could not find a doctor.
Says Mira: Harken, my Master,
Mira's pain will subside
When Shyam comes as the doctor.
- Mirabai
NIk tears in my eyes The divine love of meerabai,jai meera jai krishna
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFmej5lYQFw
isi lagi lagan, meera ho gayi magan
Wo to gali-gali hari guna ganne lagi
Mehlo mein pali, ban ke jogun chali
Meera rani divani kahane lagi
Aisi lagi lagan, meera ho gayi magan - 2
...
Koi roke nahi, koi toke nahi
Meera govinda gopal-e ganne lagi
Baithi santon ke sang, rangi mohan ke rang
Meera premi pritam ko manane lagi

Aisi lagi lagan, meera ho gayi magan
Wo to gali-gali hari guna ganne lagi
Mehlo mein pali, ban ke jogun chali
Meera rani divani kahane lagi
Aisi lagi lagan, meera ho gayi magan - 2

Rana ne vish diya, mano amrit piya
Meera sagar mein sarita samane lagi
Dukh-e lakhon sahe, mukse govind kahe
Meera govinda gopal-e ganne lagi

Aisi lagi lagan, meera ho gayi magan
Wo to gali-gali hari guna ganne lagi
Mehlo mein pali, ban ke jogun chali
Meera rani divani kahane lagi
Aisi lagi lagan, meera ho gayi magan - 3

for all people in love with GOD!!!!

[mukta581]

for all people in love with GOD!!!!

[YesNo]

for all people in love with GOD!!!!

I liked the image, video and your poem.

In the image, there is this line going over the praying girl's head. Does it have any meaning?

EDIT: I found this about Meera when I realized it was about a Hindu saint who lived 500 years ago: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meera

[YesNo]

Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is Hatred, let me sow Love.
Where there is Injury, Pardon.
Where there is Doubt, Faith.
Where there is Despair, Hope.
Where there is Darkness, Light, and
Where there is Sadness, Joy.

O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much
seek to be consoled as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved, as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
I noticed in Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prayer_of_Saint_Francis ,
that his prayer cannot be traced back further than 1912. It may have been originally written in French.

Here is a video of the prayer in French that I've enjoyed listening to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P8bOkScxXDY

[mukta581]

It's True I Went to the Market

My friend, I went to the market and bought the Dark One.
You claim by night, I claim by day.
Actually, I was beating a drum all the time I was burying him.
You say I gave too much, I say too little.
Actually, I put him on a scale before I bought him.
What I paid was my social body, my town body,
my family body, and all my inherited jewels.
Mirabai says: The Dark One is my husband now.
Be with me when I lie down; you promised me
this in an earlier life.

[mukta581]

Do Not Leave Me



Do not leave me alone, a helpless woman.
My strength, my crown,
I am empty of virtues,
You, the ocean of them.
My heart's music, you help me
In my world-crossing.
You protected the king of the elephants.
You dissolve the fear of the terrified.

Where can I go? Save my honour
For I have dedicated myself to you
And now there is no one else for me.


Mirabai

[cacian]

here is one I wrote on a whim

when the spirit
rises
the mind ripens
glad to be
rid
from its burden
of sigh

[mukta581]

Assault - Soul bleed (By – Nitu Nandan)

Suddenly the star fell one by one
Leaving the sky – naked.
O my holy Nandan
Your unexpected disappearance
...... From my life,
Without you I feel like a
Fade flower
The tears falling on the ground
Leaving me alone,
In search for you,
Emotion melted in my eyes,
Till the end of life.
memory on the screen of my heart

[cacian]

one morning
past the plains,
slow
at the garden gate,
shows up
adam the faith,
raving a
palest stain,
he'd painted
as he ade,
the apple most
acclaimed,
what say you
said the man,
who looked after
the hale the weaver
and the lay,
should you be standing
hey,
awaiting to be bane?
nay, adam said, i am tate
yva deserted
lest,
and i slightly perturbed
looking to find
a shay to rinse
my humble pray,
i fear i have obeyed
no friendly but I same,
never may sighed
the man,
go back and start
again,
and this round
let it sound,
till time is due to rinde
to be gentle
and tame,
let not your
faint be blame
forever light
to name.

[Shaman_Raman]

My favorite figure in Buddhism is that of the "Bodhisattva". I always try to look up literature defining this selfless being, and I particularly enjoy this poem I found.



"I have no parents; I make the heavens and the earth my parents
I have no home; I make awareness my home
I have no life or death; I make the tides of breathing my life and death

I have no divine power; I make honesty my divine power

I have no means; I make understanding my means
I have no magic secrets; I make character my magic secrets
I have no body; I make endurance my body
I have no eyes; I make the flash of lightning my eyes
I have no ears; I make sensibility my ears
I have no limbs; I make promptness my limbs
I have no strategy; I make “unshadowed by thought” my strategy
I have no design; I make “seizing opportunity by the forelock” my strategy
I have no miracles; I make “right action” my miracles
I have no principles; I make adaptability to all circumstances my principles
I have no tactics; I make emptiness and fulness my tactics
I have no talent; I make ready wit my talent
I have no friends; I make my mind my friend
I have no enemy; I make carelessness my enemy
I have no armor; I make benevolence and righteousness my armor
I have no castle; I make immovable- mind my castle
I have no sword; I make absence of self my word"

Anonymous Samurai- 14th Ce.

[cacian]

ask god if he cares
and he will tell you
dare
be the one to wear
the pretitle
the fair
i am the moeur
he says
the everyday
the where
and for every pair
you layer
in meaning
and
in air
you will see me
there
above
beside
aware
in seconds i am near
in minutes i am clear
and in everyday
i am dear

[cafolini]

..........

[cacian]

..........

what does that mean?

[cacian]

Since we are in spiritual can someone explain this:

Our Father
Our Father,
Who art in heaven,
hallowed be Thy name;
Thy kingdom come;
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
and forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us;
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil. Amen.


The lines in bold are not clear.

The other question is how shall one pray this if it is continous use of the Third Person?

The next one:

Glory Be
Glory be to the Father,
and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning,
is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.

why glory? IS this suggesting there was some kind of war?
I am not sure why beginning and without end?

[cafolini]

The pope uses the third person meaning WE all.

The prayer is Peace on earth and glory in the heights. There is no war. Glory for men is considered Evil. He who battles with God's will, inevitably loses.

[Shaman_Raman]

Since we are in spiritual can someone explain this:

Our Father
Our Father,
Who art in heaven,
hallowed be Thy name;
Thy kingdom come;
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
and forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us;
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil. Amen.


The lines in bold are not clear.

The other question is how shall one pray this if it is continous use of the Third Person?




Our Father=God
Who art in Heaven=Who is in Heaven
Hallowed by Thy Name=Your name is holy
Thy Kingdom Come=Your heaven, heavenly court, kingdom in heaven will/or is coming
Thy Will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven=How things are in Heaven will come to be the same on Earth.
Give us this day our daily bread=Provide for us humans what we need to be sufficient for the day.
And forgive us of Our tresspasses=forgive us for those things that we've done wrong.

If you were asking for clarity, that's as clear as it goes.

And I'm confused about your question on the "third person"? "Us" and "Our" would be referring to ourselves, which signifies that Jesus meant that his disciples pray this prayer together. If you were alone, you could just as easily say "me" or "my", or stick with the plural if you're trying to save all humanity yourself, lol.

[cacian]

Our Father=God
Who art in Heaven=Who is in Heaven
Hallowed by Thy Name=Your name is holy
Thy Kingdom Come=Your heaven, heavenly court, kingdom in heaven will/or is coming
Thy Will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven=How things are in Heaven will come to be the same on Earth.
Give us this day our daily bread=Provide for us humans what we need to be sufficient for the day.
And forgive us of Our tresspasses=forgive us for those things that we've done wrong.

If you were asking for clarity, that's as clear as it goes.

And I'm confused about your question on the "third person"? "Us" and "Our" would be referring to ourselves, which signifies that Jesus meant that his disciples pray this prayer together. If you were alone, you could just as easily say "me" or "my", or stick with the plural if you're trying to save all humanity yourself, lol.

LOL the thing is what if one has not done wrong then what? does he or she still go on saying forgive us our trespasses?
How things are in heaven will come to earth? How is that? because earth is hell at the moment.

[Shaman_Raman]

LOL the thing is what if one has not done wrong then what? does he or she still go on saying forgive us our trespasses?
How things are in heaven will come to earth? How is that? because earth is hell at the moment.

Well that's where personal interpretation comes in. I was deciphering what the verse meant, not whether or not I agree with it. However if we are, I think it helps keep the people humble towards others. I mean if we all arrogantly walked around thinking ourselves perfect, we'd never give a dam about what anyone we see lower than us would have to say. Rather than see it as "were all worthless sinners", take it as "nobodies perfect."

As for the heaven on earth, I agree with you, earth does seem like hell. I can't begin to give you God's answer on that one.

[cacian]

Yes and I agree but there is still something not quite right about the prayer verse because there is confession and once one has confessed then one has not trespassed.
And so the prayer verse does still make no sense on that 'forgive us our trespasses' bit. There is a bit of a glitch there.
No one is perfect I totally agree but it is not by sitting on our , forgive my french, backside chanting the verse that our daily bread would be buttered and our sins washed out.
As to heaven on earth I could not agree more. One does not begin to describe the meaning of it. ;)

[Shaman_Raman]

I definitely agree that there's a great deal of confusion and hypocrisy to it. I'm not a Catholic, but I don't understand the reason for weekly confession either, if one is just doing it for lip service. If mistakes are made, solutions should always be found first. You steal someone's iPod, give it back and apologize. Praying for forgiveness should not always be substituted for hurtful conduct towards others. But in the event actions aren't possible, like maybe with murder, then one who holds onto that guilt should consider praying. Because frankly, it's just as much about forgiving yourself as it is getting forgiveness from God.

Also, I wouldn't be surprised if someone calls me out on the idea that a simple prayer could give one forgiveness for murder. I meant it more as an extreme example of wrongdoing, so don't ask me if that seems like proper justice. Honestly, justice and forgiveness are two seemingly opposite ideas, so people usually lean one way or the other.

One final note, Cacian. Before Jesus shares this prayer, he explains that one doesn't have to detail and describe his specific actions in prayer, or being wordy, because he claims God already knows all we do. So if we have happened to stumble or do wrong, just say this prayer. It's almost like him saying "shut up, he knows. Just give a formal and sincere apology and move on."

[Shaman_Raman]

Words,
inconceivable,
undefined
feelings of bliss
receive free,
no charge
just this.
Cry, dammit cry
unlock the strife,
the war inside.
Let it rage,
the fire,
it'll burn out in time.
The smoke clears,
the damage done.
Let debris slip away,
let it go
let it go.

Ground remains
beneath shaky feet
time to rebuild,
prop up
from defeat.