Spiritual Poems

[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

[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