ABÛ SA‘ÎD IBN ABÎ-L-KHAYR says

The perfect mystic is not an ecstatic devotee lost in contemplation of Oneness, nor a saintly recluse shunning all commerce with mankind, but “the true saint” goes in and out amongst the people and eats and sleeps with them and buys and sells in the market and marries and takes part in social intercourse, and never forgets God for a single moment. ABÛ SA‘ÎD IBN ABÎ-L-KHAYR

Of Being woven

"The way is full of genuine sacrifice.
The thickets blocking your path are anything
that keeps you from that, any fear that you may be broken
into bits like a glass bottle.

This road demands courage and stamina, yet it's full of
footprints!
Who are these companions?
They are rungs in your ladder. Use them!
With company you quicken your ascent.
You may be happy enough going along, but with others
you'll get farther, and faster.

Someone who goes cheerfully by himself to the customs
house to pay his traveler's tax will go even more
lightheartedly when friends are with him.

Every prophet sought out companions.
A wall standing alone is useless, but put three or four walls
together, and they'll support a roof and keep grain dry
and safe.

When ink joins with a pen, then the blank paper can say
something.
Rushes and reeds must be woven to be useful as a mat. If
they weren't interlaced; the wind would blow them away.

Like that, God paired up creatures, and gave them
friendship."
 

This is how the fowler and the bird were arguing
about hermitic living and Islam.

It’s a prolonged debate.

Husam shorten their controversy.

Make the Mathnawi more nimble and less lumbering.

Agile sounds are more appealing to the heart’s ear.

If you want what visible reality

Can give, you’re and employee.

If you want the unseen world,
you’re not living your truth.

Both wishes are foolish,
but you’ll be forgiven for forgetting
that what you really want is
love’s confusing joy.

Gamble everything for love,
if you’re a true human being.

If not, leave
this gathering.

Half-heartedness doesn’t reach
into majesty. You set out
to find God, but then you keep
stopping for long periods
at mean-spirited roadhouses.

In a boat down a fast-running creek,
it feels like trees on the bank
are rushing by. What seems

to be changing around us
is rather the speed of our craft
leaving this world.

To a frog that’s never left his pond the ocean seems like a gamble.

Look what he’s giving up: security, mastery of his world, recognition!

The ocean frog just shakes his head. “I can’t really explain what it’s like where I live, but someday I’ll take you there.”

Don't worry about saving these songs!

And if one of our instruments breaks,

it doesn't matter.

We have fallen into the place

where everything is music.

The strumming and the flute notes

rise into the atmosphere,

and even if the whole world's harp

should burn up, there will still be

hidden instruments playing.

So the candle flickers and goes out.

We have a piece of flint, and a spark.

This singing art is sea foam.

The graceful movements come from a pearl

somewhere on the ocean floor.

Poems reach up like spindrift and the edge

of driftwood along the beach, wanting!

They derive

from a slow and powerful root

that we can't see.

Stop the words now.

Open the window in the centre of your chest,

and let the spirits fly in and out.

It's the old rule that drunks have to argue
and get into fights.
The lover is just as bad. he falls into a hole.
But down in that hole he finds something shining,
worth more than any amount of money or power.

Last night the moon came dropping its clothes in the street.
I took it as a sign to start singing,
falling up into the bowl of sky.
The bowl breaks. Everywhere is falling everywhere.
Nothing else to do.

Here's the new rule: break the wineglass,
and fall toward the glassblower's breath.

Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the prison wall.
Escape.
Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.
Do it now.
Your covered with thick cloud.
Slide out the side. Die,
and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign
that you've died.
Your old life was a frantic running
from silence.
The speechless full moon
comes out now.

"I used to want buyers for my words.
Now I wish someone would buy me away from words.

I've made a lot of charmingly profound images,
scenes with Abraham, and Abraham's father, Azar,
who was also famous for icons.

I'm so tired of what I've been doing.

Then one image without form came,
and I quit.

Look for someone else to tend the shop.
I'm out of the image-making business.

Finally I know the freedom
of madness.

A random image arrives. I scream,
"Get out!" It disintegrates.

Only love.
Only the holder the flag fits into,
and wind. No flag. "

Special Plates

Notice how each particle moves.
Notice how everyone has just arrived here
            from a journey.
Notice how each wants a different food.
Notice how the stars vanish as the sun comes up,
            and how all streams stream toward the ocean.
Look at the chefs preparing special plates
            for everyone, according to what they need.
Look at this cup that can hold the ocean.
Look at those who see the face.
Look through Shams' eyes
             into the Water that is
             entirely jewels."

A Community of the Spirit

There is a community of the spirit.
Join it, and feel the delight
of walking in the noisy street
and being the noise.

Drink all your passion,
and be a disgrace.

Close both eyes
to see with the other eye.

Open your hands,
if you want to be held.

Sit down in the circle.

Quit acting like a wolf, and feel
the shepherd's love filling you.

At night, your beloved wanders.
Don't accept consolations.

Close your mouth against food.
Taste the lover's mouth in yours.

You moan, "She left me." "He left me."
Twenty more will come.

Be empty of worrying.
Think of who created thought!

Why do you stay in prison
when the door is so wide open?

Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking.
Live in silence.

Flow down and down in always
widening rings of being.

From Rumi – Selected Poems (Penguin Classics)

Translated by Coleman Barks with John Moyne

hanshan says

Here's a message for the faithful
what is it that you cherish
to find the Way to see your nature
your nature is naturally so
what Heaven bestows is perfect
looking for proof leads you astray
leaving the trunk to search among the twigs
all you get is stupid

- Thich Naht Hahn says

Walk and touch peace every moment.
Walk and touch happiness every moment.
Each step brings a fresh breeze.
Each step makes a flower bloom.
Kiss the Earth with your feet.
Bring the Earth your love and happiness.
The Earth will be safe
when we feel safe in ourselves.

- Thich Naht Hahn says

I have been looking for you, my child,
Since the time when rivers and mountains still lay in obscurity.
I was looking for you when you were still in a deep sleep
Although the conch had many times echoed in the ten directions.
Without leaving our ancient mountain I looked at distant lands
And recognized your steps on so many different paths.
Where are you going, my child?
There have been times when the mist has come
And enveloped the remote village but you are still
Wandering in far away lands.
I have called your name with each breath,
Confident that even though you have lost your
Way over there you will finally find a way back to me.
Sometimes I manifest myself right on the path
You are treading but you still look at me as if I were a stranger
You cannot see the connection between us in our
Former lives you cannot remember the old vow you made.
You have not recognized me
Because your mind is caught up in images concerning a distant future.
In former lifetimes you have often taken my hand
and we have enjoyed walking together.
We have sat together for a longtime at the foot of old pine trees.
We have stood side by side in silence for hours
Listening to the sound of the wind softly calling us
And looking up at the while clouds floating by.
You have picked up and given to me the firstred autumn leaf
And I have taken you through forests deep in snow.
But wherever we go we always return to our
Ancient mountain to be near to the moon and stars
To invite the big bell every morning to sound,
And help living beings to wake up.
We have sat quietly on the An Tu mountain' with the
Great Bamboo Forest Master
Alongside the frangipani trees in blossom.
We have taken boats out to sea to rescue the boat people as they drift.
We have helped Master Van Hanh design the Thang
Long capital we have built together a thatched hermitage,
And stretched out the net to rescue the nun Trac Tuyen When!
The sound of The rising tide was deafening
On the banks of The Tien Duong river.
Together we have opened the way and stepped
Into the immense space outside of space.
After many years of working to tear asunder the net of time.
We have saved up the light of shooting stars
And made a torch helping those who want to go home
After decades of wandering in distant places.
But still there have been times when the
Seeds of a vagabond in you have come back to life
you have left your teacher, your brothers and sisters
Alone you go...

I look at you with compassion
Although I know that this is not a true separation
(Because I am already in each cell of your body)
And that you may need once more to play the prodigal son.
That is why I promise I shall be there for you
Any time you are in danger.
Sometimes you have lain unconscious on the hot sands of frontier deserts.
I have manifested myself as a cloud to bring you cool shade.
Late at night the cloud became the dew
And the compassionate nectar falls drop by drop for you to drink.
Sometimes you sit in a deep abyss of darkness
Completely alienated from you true home.
I have manifested Myself as a long ladder and
Lightly thrown myself down
So that you can climb up to the area where there is light
To discover again the blue of the sky and the
Sounds of the brook and the birds.
Sometimes I recognised you in Birmingham,
In the Do Linh district or New England.
I have sometimes met you in Hang Chau, Xiamen, or Shanghai
I have sometimes found you in St. Petersburg or East Berlin.
Sometimes, though only five years old, I have
Seen you and recognized you.
Because of the seed of bodhchita, you carry in your tender heart.
Wherever I have seen you, I have always raised
My hand and made a signal to you,
Whether it be in the delta of the North, Saigon or the Thuan An Seaport.
Sometimes you were the golden full moon hanging
Over the summit of The Kim Son Mountain,
Or the little bird flying over the Dai Laoforest during a winter night.
Often I have seen you
But you have not seen me,
Though while walking in the evening mist your clothes have been soaked.
But finally you have always come home.
You have come home and sat at my feet on our ancient mountain
Listening to the birds calling and the monkeys
Screeching and the morning chanting echoing from the Buddha Hall.
You have come back to me determined not to be a vagabond any longer.
This morning the birds of the mountain joyfully welcome the bright sun.
Do you know, my child, that the white clouds
Are still floating in the vault of the sky?
Where are you now?
The ancient mountain is still there in this
Place of the present moment.
Although the white-crested wave still wants to
Go in the other direction,
Look again, you will see me in you and in every leaf and flower bud.
If you call my name, you will see me right away.
Where are you going?
The old frangipani tree offers its fragrant flowers this morning.
You and I have never really been apart. Spring has come.
The pines have put out new shining green needles
And on the edge of the forest, the wild Plum
Trees have burst into flower.

- Thich Naht Hahn says

You are me and I am you.
It is obvious that we are inter-are.
You cultivate the flower in
yourself so that I will be beautiful.
I transform the garbage in myself so
that you do not have to suffer.
I support you you support me.
I am here to bring you peace
you are here to bring me joy.

- Thich Naht Hahn says

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.

- Thich Naht Hahn says

Be a bud sitting quietly on the hedge.

Be a smile, one part of wondrous existence.

Stand here. There is no need to depart.

- Thich Naht Hahn says

Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile,
but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.

- Thich Naht Hahn says

Drink your tea slowly and reverently,
as if it is the axis
on which the world earth revolves
- slowly, evenly, without
rushing toward the future;
Live the actual moment.
Only this moment is life.

- Thich Naht Hahn says

 I have been looking for you, World Honored One,
since I was a little child.
With my first breath, I heard your call,
and began to look for you, Blessed One.
I've walked so many perilous paths,
confronted so many dangers,
endured despair, fear, hopes, and memories.
I've trekked to the farthest regions, immense and wild,
sailed the vast oceans,
traversed the highest summits, lost among the clouds.
I've lain dead, utterly alone,
on the sands of ancient deserts.
I've held in my heart so many tears of stone.

Blessed One, I've dreamed of drinking dewdrops
that sparkle with the light of far-off galaxies.
I've left footprints on celestial mountains
and screamed from the depths of Avici Hell, exhausted, crazed with despair
because I was so hungry, so thirsty.
For millions of lifetimes,
I've longed to see you,
but didn't know where to look.
Yet, I've always felt your presence with a mysterious certainty.

I know that for thousands of lifetimes,
you and I have been one,
and the distance between us is only a flash of though.
Just yesterday while walking alone,
I saw the old path strewn with Autumn leaves,
and the brilliant moon, hanging over the gate,
suddenly appeared like the image of an old friend.
And all the stars confirmed that you were there!
All night, the rain of compassion continued to fall,
while lightning flashed through my window
and a great storm arose,
as if Earth and Sky were in battle.
Finally in me the rain stopped, the clouds parted.
The moon returned,
shining peacefully, calming Earth and Sky.
Looking into the mirror of the moon, suddenly
I saw myself,
and I saw you smiling, Blessed One.
How strange!

The moon of freedom has returned to me,
everything I thought I had lost.
From that moment on,
and in each moment that followed,
I saw that nothing had gone.
There is nothing that should be restored.
Every flower, every stone, and every leaf recognize me.
Wherever I turn, I see you smiling
the smile of no-birth and no-death.
The smile I received while looking at the mirror of the moon.
I see you sitting there, solid as Mount Meru,
calm as my own breath,
sitting as though no raging fire storm ever occurred,
sitting in complete peace and freedom.
At last I have found you, Blessed One,
and I have found myself.
There I sit.

The deep blue sky,
the snow-capped mountains painted against the horizon,
and the shining red sun sing with joy.
You, Blessed One, are my first love.
The love that is always present, always pure, and freshly new.
And I shall never need a love that will be called “last.”
You are the source of well-being flowing through numberless troubled lives,
the water from you spiritual stream always pure, as it was in the beginning.
You are the source of peace,
solidity, and inner freedom.
You are the Buddha, the Tathagata.
With my one-pointed mind
I vow to nourish your solidity and freedom in myself
so I can offer solidity and freedom to countless others,
now and forever.

Here it is – right now. Start thinking about it and you miss it.

People are scared to empty their minds
fearing that they will be engulfed by the void.

What they don’t realize is that
their own mind is the void.

The Buddha and all sentinent beings
are nothing but expressions of the one
mind. There is nothing else.

Enlightenment

When practitioners of Zen fail to transcend
the world of their senses and thoughts,
all they do has no value.
Yet, when senses and thoughts are obliterated
all the roads to universal mind are blocked
and there is no entrance.
The primal mind has to be recognised along with the senses and thoughts.
It neither belongs to them nor is independent of them.
Don’t build your understanding on your senses and thoughts,
yet don’t look for the mind separate from your senses and thoughts.
Don’t attempt to grasp Reality by pushing away your senses
and thoughts.
Unobstructed freedom is to be neither attached not detached.
This is enlightenment.

Ryokan says

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.

Ryokan says

Down in the village
the din of
flute and drum,
here deep in the mountain
everywhere the sound of the pines

Through endless ages, the mind has never changed

It has not lived or died, come or gone, gained or lost.

It isn’t pure or tainted, good or bad, past or future.
true or false, male or female. It isn’t reserved for
monks or lay people, elders to youths, masters or
idiots, the enlightened or unenlightened.

It isn’t bound by cause and effect and doesn’t
struggle for liberation. Like space, it has no form.

You can’t own it and you can’t lose it. Mountains.
rivers or walls can’t impede it. But this mind is
ineffable and difficult to experience. It is not the
mind of the senses. So many are looking for this

mind, yet it already animates their bodies.

It is theirs, yet they don’t realize it.

Through endless ages, the mind has never changed

It has not lived or died, come or gone, gained or lost.

It isn’t pure or tainted, good or bad, past or future.
true or false, male or female. It isn’t reserved for
monks or lay people, elders to youths, masters or
idiots, the enlightened or unenlightened.

It isn’t bound by cause and effect and doesn’t
struggle for liberation. Like space, it has no form.

You can’t own it and you can’t lose it. Mountains.
rivers or walls can’t impede it. But this mind is
ineffable and difficult to experience. It is not the
mind of the senses. So many are looking for this

mind, yet it already animates their bodies.

It is theirs, yet they don’t realize it.

- Bassui

" I have not heard of a sinlge Buddha, past or present,
who has been enlightened by sacred prayers
and scriptures."

- Dogen says

" It is present everywhere.
There is nothing it does not contain.
However only those who have previously
planted wisdom - seeds will be able
to continuously see it."

- Hui - Neng says

" Confused by thoughts,
we experience duality in life.
Unencumbered by ideas,
the enlightened see the one Reality."

The blossom never knows the fragrance sweet

That in its blossom’s mystery lies,

The deeps that mirror forth the Infinite

Question its secrets with their sighs.

For whom throng still the murmuring bees,

Restless amid the perfumed trees?

Whose memory thrills the impassioned breeze

And paints the magic skies?

Whose one lamps through the way-lost night

Glimmer in moon and starry light?

Whose glory in the dawn breaks bright?

For whom yearns all and cries?

For whose greatness down the ages long

Are the wide heavens a sapphire song?

For whom runs the stream with bablling tongue,

Repeats whose harmonies?

Whose breath perfumes trees, flower and grass,

Inspires the atoms’s dance in space?

Whose trailing robes in twilight pass,

A shadow in longing eyes?

Oh, if thou never wilt appear,

Why are thy masks of Beauty here?

Why sound thy anklets everywhere,

The spell that never dies?

My heart forgets that in my heart

Thy throne for ever lies.

shankaracharya says

" No birth, no death, no caste have I;
Father, mother, have I none.
I am He, I am He, Blessed spirit, I am He!"

" Alif -He who meditates on Allah
His face is pale, his eyes bloodshot.
He who suffers pangs of separation,
No longer he longs his life ~ last.
Say -Soulful is my love for you,
Whom shall I go and tell?
In the swelling waters of a river at midnight
A wailing swallow fell. "

The Name of Allah

Let's say the name of Allah all the time.
Let's see what my Lord does.
Let's travel the Way always.
Let's see what my Lord does.

Just when you least expect it,
suddenly the veil is lifted.
The remedy arrives in time.
Let's see what my Lord does.

What did Yunus do?
What did he do?
He found a straight Path,
held the hand of a guide.
Let's see what my Lord does.

Our Religion is like no Other

Our laws are different from other laws.
Our religion is like no other.

It is different from the seventy-two sects.
We are guided by different signs,
In this world an hereafter.

Without cleansing of visible waters,
without any movement of hands, feet, or head-
we worship

Whether at the Kaaba, in the mosque, or in ritual prayer,
everyone carries their own disease.

Which labels refer to whom, no one really knows.
Tomorrow it will be clear who abandoned the  religion.

Yunus, renew your soul, be remembered as a friend,
Know this power. Listen with the ears of love.

I've Come Here to Depart

I haven't come here to settle down.
I've come here to depart.
I am a merchant with lots of goods,
selling to whoever will buy.
I didn't come to create any problems,
I'm only here to love.
A Heart makes a good home for the Friend.
I've come to build some hearts.
I'm a little drunk from this Friendship-
Any lover would know the shape I'm in.
I've come to exchange my twoness,
to dissapear in One.
He is my teacher. I am His servant.
I am a nightingale in His garden.
I've come to the Teacher's garden
to be happy and die singing.
They say "Souls which know each other here,
know each other there."
I've come to know a Teacher
and to show myself as I am.

Let the deaf Listen to the Deaf

Let the deaf listen to the deaf.
A soul is needed to understand them both.

Without listening we understood.
Without understanding we carried it out.

On this Way, the seeker's wealth is poverty.

We loved, we became lovers.
We were loved, we became the beloved.
When all is perishing moment by moment
Who has time to be bored?

God divided His people into Seventy-two languages and borders arose.

But poor Yunus fills the earth and sky,
and under every stone hides a Moses.

Is it the night of power
Or only your hair?
Is it dawn
Or your face?

In the songbook of beauty
Is it a deathless first line
Or only a fragment
copied from your inky eyebrow?

Is it boxwood of the orchard
Or cypress of the rose garden?
The tuba tree of paradise, abundant with dates,
Or your standing beautifully straight?

Is it musk of a Chinese deer
Or scent of delicate rosewater?
The rose breathing in the wind
Or your perfume?

Is it scorching lightning
Or light from fire on Sana'i Mountain?
My hot sigh
Or your inner radiance?

Is it Mongolian musk
Or pure ambergris?
Is it your hyacinth curls
Or your braids?

Is it a glass of red wine at dawn
Or white magic?
Your drunken narcissus eye
Or your spell?

Is it the Garden of Eden
Or heaven on earth?
A mosque of the masters of the heart
Or a back alley?

Everyone faces a mosque of adobe and mud
When they pray.
The mosque of Hayati's soul
Turns to your face.

How can I see the splendor of the moon
If his face shines over my heart,
Flaming like the sun?

The Turks in his eyes charge through my soul,
While untrue curling hair
Defeats faith.

Yet if he lifted the veil from his face,
The world would be undone,
The universe astounded.

He walks through the garden
With grace, erect,
His exquisite posture mocking even the straight cypresses.

He charges, riding his gnostic horse
Into the holy space of divinity,
The sacred sphere.

Tonight the Saki with its red-stained ruby lips
Pours wine for the luxury of every drunk,
And sates every reveler's taste.

As Hayati has drunk his ecstasy,
Her soul now satisfied by the wine of his pure heart,
How can she drink any other nectar?

Before there was a hint of civilization
I carried a memory of your loose strand of hair,
Oblivious, I carried inside me your pointed tip of hair.

In its invisible realm,
Your face of sun yearned for epiphany,
Until each distinct thing was thrown into sight.

From the first instant time took a breath,
Your love lay in the soul,
A treasure in the secret chest in the heart.

Before the first seed shot up out of the rose bed of the possible,
The soul's lark took wing high above your meadow,
Flying home to you.

I thank you one hundred times! In the altar
Of Hayati's eyes, your face shines
Forever present and beautiful.

Poem by Bibi Hayati

Before there was a trace of this world of men,

I carried the memory of a lock of your hair,

A stray end gathered within me, though unknown.

Inside that invisible realm,

Your face like the sun longed to be seen,

Until each separate object was finally flung into light.

From the moment of Time’s first-drawn breath,

Love resides in us,

A treasure locked into the heart’s hidden vault;

Before the first seed broke open the rose bed of Being,

An inner lark soared through your meadows,

Heading toward Home.

What can I do but thank you, one hundred times?

Your face illumines the shrine of Hayati’s eyes,

Constantly present and lovely.

The Sufi Message - By Hazrat Inayat Khan

Sufism cannot be called a religion because it is free from principles, distinctions, and differences, the very basis on which religions are founded; neither can it be called a philosophy, because philosophy teaches the study of nature in its qualities and varieties, whereas Sufism teaches unity. Therefore it may best be called simply the training of the view.
The word 'Sufi' implies purity, and purity contains two qualities. Pure means unmixed with any other element, or in other words that which exists in its own element, unalloyed and unstained. The second quality of purity is great adaptability.
Such is also the nature of the Sufi. In the first place he purifies himself by keeping the vision of God constantly before him, not allowing the stains of earthly differences and distinctions to be mirrored upon his heart, nor good or bad society, nor intercourse with high- or low-class people. Nor can a faith or a belief ever interfere with his purity.
The Sufi shows his universal brotherhood in his adaptability. Among Christians he is a Christian, among Jews he is a Jew, among Muslims he is a Muslim, among Hindus he is a Hindu; for he is one with all, and thus all are with him. He allows everyone to join in his brotherhood, and in the same way he allows himself to join in any other. He never questions, 'What is your creed or nation or religion?' Neither does he ask, 'What are your teachings or principles?'
Call him brother, he answers brother, and he means it. With regard to principles, the Sufi has none, for sweetness may be beneficial to one and harmful to another. Thus it is with all principles, good and bad, kind and cruel. If we ask a soldier to be merciful during the battle, he will at once be defeated. This shows that everyone has his own principle for each action or situation. One person may believe in a certain principle, while another may hold quite a contrary opinion. What one person may call good another may call bad. One says a certain path is the right one, while another takes the opposite direction.
The Sufi, instead of becoming centered in his likes and dislikes and limiting himself to a certain faith or belief, reasoning out right and wrong, focuses his view on that of another, and thus sees the reason why he believes and why he does not, why something is right to one and wrong to another. He also understands why that which is called good by some people may be called bad by others, and thus by keeping his point of view under control he arrives at the true height of wisdom.
The Sufi is a true Christian in regard to charity, brotherhood, and the healing of his own soul as well as the soul of another. He is not bigoted in his adherence to a particular Church, or in forsaking the other masters and their followers who came before and after Christ, but his at-one-ment with the Christ and his appreciation and practice of his truth are as keen as those of a true Christian.
It is in the lives of the dervishes that one sees the real picture of the life and teachings of Christ, especially in their sharing of their roof and food with another, whether friend or foe. Even up to the present day they continue in their pure ways. The Sufi is a Catholic in that he produces the picture of his ideal of devotion in his soul, and he is a Protestant in giving up the ceremonials of the cult.
The Sufi is a Brahmin, for the word Brahmin means 'the knower of Brahma', of God, the only Being. His religion lies in believing in no other existence save that of God, which the Brahmin calls Advaita. The Sufi has as many grades of spiritual evolution to pass through as the Yogi. There is very little difference to be found even in their practices, the difference lying chiefly in the names. No doubt the Sufi chooses a normal life in preference to that of an ascetic, yet he does not limit himself to either the former or the latter.
The Sufi considers the teachings of the Avatars to be true manifestations of the divine wisdom, and he has a perfect insight into the subtle knowledge of the Vedanta. The Sufi appreciates the Jain conception of harmlessness, and considers that kindness is the true path of purity and perfection. In the past Sufis have led lives of renunciation, and in the East most of them still lead a very harmless life, just like the Jains.
The Sufi is a Buddhist, for he reasons at every step forward on his spiritual journey. The teachings of the Sufi are very similar to the Buddhist teachings; in fact it is the Sufi who unites the believers and the unbelievers in the God-ideal and in the knowledge of unity.
The Sufi is a Muslim, not because many Muslims happen to be Sufis, nor because of his use of Muslim phraseology, but because in his life he proves what a true Muslim ought to be. Muslims have such a sense of devotion that no matter how great a sinner or how cruel a man may be, the name of Allah or Mohammed at once reduces him to tears. Similarly the practices of Sufism first develop the heart qualities which are often overlooked by many other mystics. It is the purification of the heart which makes it receptive to the illumination of the soul. The Sufis are the ones who read the Qur'an from every experience in life, and see and recognize Mohammed face in each atom of the manifestation.
The Sufi, like a Zoroastrian or a Parsi, looks at the sun and bows before the air, fire, water, and earth, recognizing the immanence of God in His manifestation, taking the sun and moon as the signs of God. The Sufi interprets fire as the symbol of wisdom, and the sun as the celestial light. He not only bows before them but also absorbs their quality. As a rule in the presence of dervishes a wood fire and incense burn continually.
The Sufi is an Israelite, especially in his study and mastery of the different names of God. The miraculous powers of Moses can also be found in the lives of the Sufis both past and present. In fact the Sufi is the master of the Hebrew mysticism; the divine voice heard by Moses on Mount Sinai in the past is audible to many a Sufi today.

The Sufi Message - By Hazrat Inayat Khan

Sufism cannot be called a religion because it is free from principles, distinctions, and differences, the very basis on which religions are founded; neither can it be called a philosophy, because philosophy teaches the study of nature in its qualities and varieties, whereas Sufism teaches unity. Therefore it may best be called simply the training of the view.
The word 'Sufi' implies purity, and purity contains two qualities. Pure means unmixed with any other element, or in other words that which exists in its own element, unalloyed and unstained. The second quality of purity is great adaptability.
Such is also the nature of the Sufi. In the first place he purifies himself by keeping the vision of God constantly before him, not allowing the stains of earthly differences and distinctions to be mirrored upon his heart, nor good or bad society, nor intercourse with high- or low-class people. Nor can a faith or a belief ever interfere with his purity.
The Sufi shows his universal brotherhood in his adaptability. Among Christians he is a Christian, among Jews he is a Jew, among Muslims he is a Muslim, among Hindus he is a Hindu; for he is one with all, and thus all are with him. He allows everyone to join in his brotherhood, and in the same way he allows himself to join in any other. He never questions, 'What is your creed or nation or religion?' Neither does he ask, 'What are your teachings or principles?'
Call him brother, he answers brother, and he means it. With regard to principles, the Sufi has none, for sweetness may be beneficial to one and harmful to another. Thus it is with all principles, good and bad, kind and cruel. If we ask a soldier to be merciful during the battle, he will at once be defeated. This shows that everyone has his own principle for each action or situation. One person may believe in a certain principle, while another may hold quite a contrary opinion. What one person may call good another may call bad. One says a certain path is the right one, while another takes the opposite direction.
The Sufi, instead of becoming centered in his likes and dislikes and limiting himself to a certain faith or belief, reasoning out right and wrong, focuses his view on that of another, and thus sees the reason why he believes and why he does not, why something is right to one and wrong to another. He also understands why that which is called good by some people may be called bad by others, and thus by keeping his point of view under control he arrives at the true height of wisdom.
The Sufi is a true Christian in regard to charity, brotherhood, and the healing of his own soul as well as the soul of another. He is not bigoted in his adherence to a particular Church, or in forsaking the other masters and their followers who came before and after Christ, but his at-one-ment with the Christ and his appreciation and practice of his truth are as keen as those of a true Christian.
It is in the lives of the dervishes that one sees the real picture of the life and teachings of Christ, especially in their sharing of their roof and food with another, whether friend or foe. Even up to the present day they continue in their pure ways. The Sufi is a Catholic in that he produces the picture of his ideal of devotion in his soul, and he is a Protestant in giving up the ceremonials of the cult.
The Sufi is a Brahmin, for the word Brahmin means 'the knower of Brahma', of God, the only Being. His religion lies in believing in no other existence save that of God, which the Brahmin calls Advaita. The Sufi has as many grades of spiritual evolution to pass through as the Yogi. There is very little difference to be found even in their practices, the difference lying chiefly in the names. No doubt the Sufi chooses a normal life in preference to that of an ascetic, yet he does not limit himself to either the former or the latter.
The Sufi considers the teachings of the Avatars to be true manifestations of the divine wisdom, and he has a perfect insight into the subtle knowledge of the Vedanta. The Sufi appreciates the Jain conception of harmlessness, and considers that kindness is the true path of purity and perfection. In the past Sufis have led lives of renunciation, and in the East most of them still lead a very harmless life, just like the Jains.
The Sufi is a Buddhist, for he reasons at every step forward on his spiritual journey. The teachings of the Sufi are very similar to the Buddhist teachings; in fact it is the Sufi who unites the believers and the unbelievers in the God-ideal and in the knowledge of unity.
The Sufi is a Muslim, not because many Muslims happen to be Sufis, nor because of his use of Muslim phraseology, but because in his life he proves what a true Muslim ought to be. Muslims have such a sense of devotion that no matter how great a sinner or how cruel a man may be, the name of Allah or Mohammed at once reduces him to tears. Similarly the practices of Sufism first develop the heart qualities which are often overlooked by many other mystics. It is the purification of the heart which makes it receptive to the illumination of the soul. The Sufis are the ones who read the Qur'an from every experience in life, and see and recognize Mohammed face in each atom of the manifestation.
The Sufi, like a Zoroastrian or a Parsi, looks at the sun and bows before the air, fire, water, and earth, recognizing the immanence of God in His manifestation, taking the sun and moon as the signs of God. The Sufi interprets fire as the symbol of wisdom, and the sun as the celestial light. He not only bows before them but also absorbs their quality. As a rule in the presence of dervishes a wood fire and incense burn continually.
The Sufi is an Israelite, especially in his study and mastery of the different names of God. The miraculous powers of Moses can also be found in the lives of the Sufis both past and present. In fact the Sufi is the master of the Hebrew mysticism; the divine voice heard by Moses on Mount Sinai in the past is audible to many a Sufi today.

Sufism By Hazrat Inayat Khan

The purpose of the Sufi Movement is to work towards unity. Its main object is to bring humanity, divided as it is into so many different sections, closer together in the deeper understanding of life. It is a preparation for a world service, chiefly in three ways. One way is the philosophical understanding of life; another is bringing about brotherhood among races, nations, and creeds; and the third way is the meeting of the world's greatest need...that natural religion which has always been the religion of humanity: to respect one another's belief, scripture, and teacher.

The Sufi message is the echo of the same Divine message which has always come and will always come to enlighten humanity. It is not a new religion; it is the same message that is being given to humanity. It is the continuation of the same ancient religion which has always existed and will always exist, a religion which belongs to all teachers and all the scriptures. It is the continuation of all the great religions which have come at various times; and it is a unification of them all, which was the desire of all the prophets.

The Sufi Movement is constituted of those who have the same ideals of service to God and to humanity, and who have the ideal of devoting a part or the whole of their life to the service of humanity in the path of truth. This Movement has its groups, the members of which belong to all the different religions, for all are welcome, Christians, Buddhists, Parsis, Muslims. No one's faith or belief is questioned; each can follow his own church, religion, creed; no one need believe in any special creed or dogma. There is freedom of thought. At the same time personal guidance is given on the path, in the problems of both outer life and inner life.

In the service of the Sufi Universal Worship all services — Christian, Muslim, Hebrew, Zoroastrian, Buddhist, and Hindu — are included. Therefore the blessing of Christ is given from the altar to the seeker for Jesus Christ's blessing. The one who seeks for the blessing of Moses, to him is given the blessing of Moses. For the one who seeks the benediction of Buddha there is the benediction of Buddha; but those who seek the blessing of all these great ones who have come at different times are blessed by all.

We do not interfere with anyone's ideal, nor with his devotion to his teacher; it would be as absurd as to think that a child should love another child's mother more than its own. And who has the right to compare and to place the great teachers or the scriptures? No one; it is in our heart's devotion to the ideal we adore that we can place our ideal; and it is our own concern; no one can interfere with it.

Send Thy peace, O Lord, which is perfect and everlasting,
    That our souls may radiate peace.
Send Thy peace, O Lord, that we may think, act and speak,
    Hamoniously.
Send Thy peace, O Lord, that we may be contented and
    Thankful for Thy bountiful gifts.
Send Thy peace, O Lord, that amidst our worldly strife we
    may enjoy Thy bliss.
Send Thy peace, O Lord, that we may endure all, tolerate all
    In the thought of Thy grace and mercy.
Send Thy peace, O lord, that our lives may become a divine
    vision, and in Thy light all darkness may vanish.
Send Thy peace, O Lord, our Father and Mother, that we
    Thy children on earth may all unite in one family.

Thou Art My Salvation

Thou art my salvation and freedom is mine,
I am not, I melt as a pearl in sweet wine!
My heart, soul, and self, yea, all these are thine;
O Lord I have no more to offer!

I drink of the nectar of truth the divine,
As Moses thy word, as Yusuf they shine
who walk in thy ways; and Christ is thy sign:
Thou raisest to life everlasting!

Thou art as Muhammad to them that repine,
My spirit is purged as the gold from a mine!
I only know that my heart beats with thine,
And joys in boundless freedom!

Invocation

Toward the One
the Perfection of
Love, Harmony and Beauty,
the Only Being,
United with all the illuminated Souls,
who form the Embodiment of the Master,
the Spirit of Guidance.

The Soul That Does not Live in God is not Alive

Spring makes red and white flowers appear on the trees,
But the spring that is the origin of colors is colorless.

Understand what I have said, and give up all talk;
Run to the Origin without color and unite yourself to it.

Annihilate yourself before the One Existence
So that thousands of worlds leap out of you

And your pure existence flames out of itself
And goes on and on birthing different forms.

Of course, none of these forms will last.
Happy is the one who knows this mystery!

Happy is he who gives his life to know this!
He leaves this house for another far more radiant.

You cannot understand this mystery through reason;
The Way to Knowledge winds through suffering and torment.

If you do not feel pain, you do not look for healing.
The soul that does not live in God is not alive.

She seems like a soul, but does not deserve the name:
She has not been made alive by the Beloved.

The soul is given life by the four-elements
Like a lamp that burns through the night:

The light is from oil and wick, it is not eternal.
While the oil exists, the lamp burns, but then goes out.

The one made alive by God will never die.
He lives through God and not through gold or bread.

God is the Light, the Eternal Source of Lights.
The Light is causeless, as is His fiery radiance.

Like gold, God's value comes from His pure, perfect essence.

The World is Never Far From Him

He who is perfect in the Path of Faith

Will never be deceived by Adam’s clay:

He will always see the Light in Adam –

Its brilliance will not remain a secret.

In stone, wood, straw, or mountain

He will at all times see nothing but God.

Didn’t Bayazid himself see God in all things?

He saw the Face of God in the tiniest leaf.

The world is never far from Him:

Could its perfume stray far from the rosegarden?

He who is deprived of the sense of smell

Cannot distinguish fragrances

Just as the stream-bed isn’t conscious

Of the water always flowing through it.

If I revealed any more about these things

The two worlds would disappear

And I would become His enemy

And he would light a fire in my soul and body.

Even if You Lose all you have

Learn the meaning of that secret

That God revealed in the Koran:

Whether He makes you happy or unhappy,

Whether He makes you sad or gives you hope,

Even if you lose all you have

Or suffer extremely in the spirit,

Be patient: a hundred divine graces

Are coming from His hand to you.

He who endures patiently the pain

That is sent from God

Will, it is certain, obtain

The strength and truth of faith.

Marvelous news is sent to the patient;

They will win a great joy.

You must be able to perceive grace

Even when His divine anger lashes you,

And think of Him always with serenity,

And always, whatever happens, cling to Him

With all you heart and all your soul.

I am the One whom I love, and the One whom I love is myself.
We are two souls incarnated in one body;
if you see me, you see Him,
if you see Him, you see us.

Kill me, my faithful friends,

For in my being killed is my life.

Love is that you remain standing

In front of your Beloved

When you are stripped of all your attributes;

Then His attributes become your qualities.

Between me and You, there is only me.

Take away the me, so only You remain

" For your sake, I hurry over land and water:

For your sake, I cross the desert and split the mountain in two,

And turn my face from all things,

Until the time I reach the place

Where I am alone with You."

Now stands no more between Truth and me
Or reasoned demonstration,
Or proof of revelation;
Now, brightly blazing full, Truth's lumination
Each flickering, lesser light.

I do not cease swimming in the seas of love,
rising with the wave, then descending;
now the wave sustains me, and then I sink beneath it;
love bears me away where there is no longer any shore.

Intoxicated from the pure draft
which I had drained to the dregs,
in the bare dust I fell.
Since then I don't know if I exist or not;
but I am not sober, nor am I ill or drunken.
Sometimes, like His eye, I am full of joy,
or, like His curl, I am waving;
Sometimes -- alas! -- from habit or nature,
I am lying on a dust heap.
Sometimes, at a glance from Him,
I am back in the Rose Garden.

Cast away your existence entirely,
for it is nothing but weeds and refuse.
Go, clear out your heart's chamber;
arrange it as the abiding-place of the Beloved.
When you go forth, He will come in,
and to you, with self discarded,
He will unveil His beauty.

Sun-reflections from the unseen world
are all the object of this mortal sphere,
as curl, down, mole, and brow on a fair face,
for Beauty absolute reigns over all.

...When the ears first hear these words
they seem to denote sensual objects.
But as there is no language for the infinite,
how can we express its mysteries
in finite words?
Or how can the visions of the ecstatic
be described in earthly formula?
So mystics veil their meanings
in these shadows of the unseen,
the objects of the senses.

...As a nurse to an infant,
so is the infinite to the finite.

...Once these words were used in their proper sense,
but now are concealed lest the vulgar should profane.

Annihilation, intoxication, the fever of love
are the three states of the mystic,
and those who abide in these states
at once comprehend the meanings
veiled in these words.
But if you know them not,
don't pretend you understand like an igonorant infidel,
for all cannot be mystics or grasp the mysteries:
no mere illusions are the mystic's dreams,
and a man of truth does not speak vainly.
To comprehend requires revelations or great faith.

Briefly have I explained these words and their meanings
so that you may apply them in their right intent,
remembering the attributes of each.
Compare them in a right manner,
and refrain from the wrong comparisons.

Now that these rules are understood
I will show you more of their application.

Rumi says

Dar bagh shodam sabuh o gol michiam
Vaz didan-e baaghbaan hami tarsidam
Shirin sokhani ze baaghbaan be shenidam
Gol raa cheh mahall keh baagh raa baghshidam

I was in the garden in the morning and I was gathering roses
And all the time I was afraid that the gardener would see me.
The gardener, however, only spoke these kind words:
‘A few roses are nothing as I give you the complete garden’.

Let reason go. For His light
burns reason up from head to foot.

If you wish to see that Face,
seek another eye. The philosopher
with his two eyes sees double,
so is unable to see the unity of the Truth.

As His light burns up the angels,
even so does it consume reason.
As the light of our eyes is to the sun,
so is the light of reason to the Light of Lights.

Behold how this drop of seawater
has taken so many forms and names;
it has existed as mist, cloud, rain, dew, and mud,
then plant, animal, and Perfect man;
and yet it was a drop of water
from which these things appeared.
Even so this universe of reason, soul, heavens, and bodies,
was but a drop of water in its beginning and ending.

...When a wave strikes it, the world vanishes;
and when the appointed time comes to heaven and stars,
their being is lost in not being.

Being a tavern haunter means
Being sprung free of yourself.

The tavern is where lovers tryst,
Where the bird of the soul comes to rest
In a sanctuary beyond space and time.
The tavern haunter wanders lonely in a desert
And sees the whole world as a mirage.
The desert is limitless and endless --
No one has seen its beginning or its end,
And even if you wandered in it a hundred years
You would not find yourself, or anyone else.
Those who live there have no feet or heads,
Are neither "believers" nor "unbelievers."
Drunk on the wine of selflessness,
They have given up good and evil alike.
Drunk, without lips or mouth, on Truth
They have thrown away all thoughts of name and fame,
All talk of wonders, visions, spiritual states,
Dreams, secret rooms, lights, miracles.

The aroma of the Divine Wine
Has made them abandon everything;
The taste for Annihilation
Has sent them all sprawling like drunkards.
For one sip of the wine of ecstasy,
They ahve thrown away pilgrim staff, water jar, and rosary.
They fall, and then they rise again,
Sometimes bright in union,
Sometimes lost in the pain of separation;
Now pouring tears of blood,
Now raised to a world of bliss,
Stretching out their necks like racers;
Now, with blackened faces, staring at a wall,
Or faces reddened with Unity, chained to a gibbet;
Now whirling in mystic dance,
Lost in the arms of the Beloved,
Losing head and foot like the revolving heavens.
Every passage that the Singer sings them
Transmits the rapture of the invisible world,
For mystic singing is not only words and sounds;
Each note unveils a priceless mystery.

They have thrown away their senses
And run from all color and perfume,
And washed in purified wine
All the different dyes: black, green, or blue.
To them, devotion and piety are only hypocrisy;
They are weary of being either masters or disciples;
They have swept the dust of dunghills from their souls,
Without telling even a tiny part of what they see,
And grasped in bliss at the swirling robes of drunkards.
They have drunk one cup of the pure wine
And have become -- at last, at long last -- real Sufis.

Being a tavern haunter means
Being sprung free of yourself.

The tavern is where lovers tryst,
Where the bird of the soul comes to rest
In a sanctuary beyond space and time.
The tavern haunter wanders lonely in a desert
And sees the whole world as a mirage.
The desert is limitless and endless --
No one has seen its beginning or its end,
And even if you wandered in it a hundred years
You would not find yourself, or anyone else.
Those who live there have no feet or heads,
Are neither "believers" nor "unbelievers."
Drunk on the wine of selflessness,
They have given up good and evil alike.
Drunk, without lips or mouth, on Truth
They have thrown away all thoughts of name and fame,
All talk of wonders, visions, spiritual states,
Dreams, secret rooms, lights, miracles.

The aroma of the Divine Wine
Has made them abandon everything;
The taste for Annihilation
Has sent them all sprawling like drunkards.
For one sip of the wine of ecstasy,
They ahve thrown away pilgrim staff, water jar, and rosary.
They fall, and then they rise again,
Sometimes bright in union,
Sometimes lost in the pain of separation;
Now pouring tears of blood,
Now raised to a world of bliss,
Stretching out their necks like racers;
Now, with blackened faces, staring at a wall,
Or faces reddened with Unity, chained to a gibbet;
Now whirling in mystic dance,
Lost in the arms of the Beloved,
Losing head and foot like the revolving heavens.
Every passage that the Singer sings them
Transmits the rapture of the invisible world,
For mystic singing is not only words and sounds;
Each note unveils a priceless mystery.

They have thrown away their senses
And run from all color and perfume,
And washed in purified wine
All the different dyes: black, green, or blue.
To them, devotion and piety are only hypocrisy;
They are weary of being either masters or disciples;
They have swept the dust of dunghills from their souls,
Without telling even a tiny part of what they see,
And grasped in bliss at the swirling robes of drunkards.
They have drunk one cup of the pure wine
And have become -- at last, at long last -- real Sufis.

Go sweep out the chamber of your heart.
Make it ready to be the dwelling place of the Beloved.
When you depart out,
He will enter it.
In you,
void of yourself,
will He display His beauties.

The tavern-haunter wanders alone in a desolate place,
seeing the whole world as a mirage.

The tavern-haunter is a seeker of Unity,
a soul freed from the shackles of himself.

 Through the chamber of the heart is small,
it's large enough for the Lord of both worlds
to gladly make His home there.

 “I” and “you” are but the lattices,
in the niches of a lamp,
through which the One Light shines.
“I” and “you” are the veil
between heaven and earth;
lift this veil and you will see
no longer the bonds of sects and creeds.
When “I” and “you” do not exist,
what is mosque, what is synagogue?
What is the Temple of Fire?

I was passionate,
filled with longing,
I searched
far and wide.
But the day
that the Truthful One
found me,
I was at home.

A thousand times my Guru I asked:
How shall the Nameless be defined?
I asked and asked but all in vain.
The Nameless Unknown, it seems to me,
Is the source of the something that we see.

Though you are wise, be as a fool;
Though you can see, be as one blind+;
Though you can hear, be as one deaf;
Patiently bear with all you meet,
and politely talk to eveyone.
This practice surely will lead you
to the realisation of the Truth.

Why do you dote upon someone, my Soul,
who is not your true love ?
Why have you taken the false for the true?
Why can't you understand, why can't you know?
It is ignorance that binds you to the false,
To the ever-recurring wheel of birth and death,
    this coming and going.

Why do you dote upon someone, my Soul,
who is not your true love ?
Why have you taken the false for the true?
Why can't you understand, why can't you know?
It is ignorance that binds you to the false,
To the ever-recurring wheel of birth and death,
    this coming and going.

I might disperse the southern clouds,
I might drain out the sea,
I might cure the incurable sick,
But I cannot convince a fool.

Think within thee, till the light of day
Be as the darkness of very night---
Till the self-illuminated Way
Show thee the Darkness to be but Light.
Then shall the bounds of the solid Earth
Mingle with the liquid of the Sky:
Then shalt thou gain freedom from Re-birth,
Merging into Shiv the Self on high.
When the nectar of the waning Moon
Riseth to feed the awaiting Sun,
What is it aught but an empty boon?
Booty that the maw of Rah hath won.
Yet shall Self-illuminated Thought
Show another picture, late or soon:---
Ignorance blind---as a demon caught;
Rah himself as booty of the Moon.
There be that to know and to be known.
There be knowledge, too, to know them by.
By the Light in thee shall both be shown,
Thinking and thinking, if thou but try.
Rah it was came booty for the Moon;
Now shall the Moon be booty of thine.
Think on, and both shall a void soon:
Only shall remain the Thought Divine.

For ever we come, for ever we go;
For ever, day and night, we are on the move.
Whence we come, thither we go,
For ever in the round of birth and death,
From nothingness to nothingness.
But sure, a mystery here abides,
A Something is there for us to know.
(It cannot all be meaningless).

For ever we come, for ever we go;
For ever, day and night, we are on the move.
Whence we come, thither we go,
For ever in the round of birth and death,
From nothingness to nothingness.
But sure, a mystery here abides,
A Something is there for us to know.
(It cannot all be meaningless).

I will weep and weep for you, O Mind;
(my Soul) The world hath caught you in its spell.
Though you cling to them with the anchor of steel,
Not even the shadow of the things you love
 Will go with you when you are dead.
Why then have you forgot your own true Self ?    

With a rope of loose-spun thread am I towing
my boat upon the sea.
Would that God heard my prayer
and brought me safe across!
Like water in cups of unbaked clay
I run to waste.
Would God I were to reach my home!

What is worship? Who are this man
and this woman bringing flowers?
What kinds of flowers should be brought,
and what streamwater poured over the images?
Real worship is done by the mind
(Let that be a man) and by the desire
(Let that be a woman). And let those two
choose what to sacrifice.
There is a liquid that can be released
from under the mask of the face,
a nectar which when it rushes down
gives discipline and strength.
Let that be your sacred pouring.
Let your worship song be silence

When my mind was cleansed of impurities,
like a mirror of its dust and dirt,
I recognized the Self in me:
When I saw Him dwelling in me,
I realized that He was the Everything
and I was nothing.  

" I saw and found I am in everything
I saw God effulgent in everything.
After hearing and pausing see Siva
The House is His alone; Who am I, Lalla. "

When my mind was cleansed of impurities,
like a mirror of its dust and dirt,
I recognized the Self in me:
When I saw Him dwelling in me,
I realized that He was the Everything
and I was nothing.  

I saw and found I am in everything
I saw God effulgent in everything.
After hearing and pausing see Siva
The House is His alone; Who am I, Lalla.

“ Idol is of stone temple is of stone;
Above (temple) and below (idol) are one;
Which of them wilt thou worship O foolish Pandit?
Cause thou the union of mind with Soul.”

Let them jeer or cheer me;
  Let anybody say what he likes;
 Let good persons worship me with flowers;
 What can any one of them gain I being pure?

If the world talks ill of me
My heart shall harbour no ill-will:
If am a true worshipper of God
Can ashes leave a stain on a mirror?

God does not want meditations and austerities
Through love alone canst though reach the Abode of Bliss.
Thou mayst be lost like salt in water
Still it is difficult for thee to know God.”

Were it not for
the excess of your talking
and the turmoil in your hearts,
you would see what I see
and hear what I hear!

When my Beloved appears,
With what eye do I see Him?

With His eye, not with mine,
For none sees Him except Himself.

Wonder,
A garden among the flames!

My heart can take on any form:
A meadow for gazelles,
A cloister for monks,
For the idols, sacred ground,
Ka'ba for the circling pilgrim,
The tables of the Torah,
The scrolls of the Quran.

My creed is Love;
Wherever its caravan turns along the way,
That is my belief,
My faith.

 "I shall grasp the soul's skirt with my hand
and stamp on the world's head with my foot.
I shall trample Matter and Space with my horse,
beyond all Being I shall utter a great shout,
and in that moment when I shall be alone with Him, "

 "I shall grasp the soul's skirt with my hand
and stamp on the world's head with my foot.
I shall trample Matter and Space with my horse,
beyond all Being I shall utter a great shout,
and in that moment when I shall be alone with Him, "

In the dead of night, a Sufi began to weep.
He said, "This world is like a closed coffin, in which
We are shut and in which, through our ignorance,
We spend our lives in folly and desolation.
When Death comes to open the lid of the coffin,
Each one who has wings will fly off to Eternity,
But those without will remain locked in the coffin.
So, my friends, before the lid of this coffin is taken off,
Do all you can to become a bird of the Way to God;
Do all you can to develop your wings and your feathers."

From each, Love demands a mystic silence.
What do all seek so earnestly? Tis Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts,
In Love no longer "Thou" and "I" exist,
For self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul
Behold the Friend, Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds
Will find that the secret of them both is Love.

Intoxicated by the Wine of Love.
From each a mystic silence Love demands.
What do all seek so earnestly? 'Tis Love.
What do they whisper to each other? Love.
Love is the subject of their inmost thoughts.
In Love no longer 'thou' and 'I' exist,
For Self has passed away in the Beloved.
Now will I draw aside the veil from Love,
And in the temple of mine inmost soul,
Behold the Friend; Incomparable Love.
He who would know the secret of both worlds,
Will find the secret of them both, is Love.

Joy! Joy! I triumph! Now no more I know

Myself as simply me. I burn with love

Unto myself, and bury me in love.

The centre is within me and its wonder

Lies as a circle everywhere about me.

Joy! Joy! No mortal thought can fathom me.

I am the merchant and the pearl at once.

Lo, Time and Space lie crouching at my feet.

Joy! Joy! When I would reveal in a rapture.

I plunge into myself and all things know.

Joy! Joy! I triumph! Now no more I know

Myself as simply me. I burn with love

Unto myself, and bury me in love.

The centre is within me and its wonder

Lies as a circle everywhere about me.

Joy! Joy! No mortal thought can fathom me.

I am the merchant and the pearl at once.

Lo, Time and Space lie crouching at my feet.

Joy! Joy! When I would reveal in a rapture.

I plunge into myself and all things know.

And as His Essence all the world pervades
Naught in Creation is, save this alone.
Upon the waters has He fixed His Throne,
This earth suspended in the starry space,
Yet what are seas and what is air? For all
Is God, and but a talisman are heaven and earth
To veil Divinity. For heaven and earth,
Did He not permeate them, were but names;
Know then, that both this visible world and that
Which unseen is, alike are God Himself,
Naught is, save God: and all that is, is God.

And yet, alas! by how few is He seen,
Blind are men's eyes, though all resplendent shines
The world by Deity's own light illumined,
0 Thou whom man perceiveth not, although
To him Thou deignest to make known Thyself;
Thou all Creation art, all we behold, but Thou,
The soul within the body lies concealed,
And Thou dost hide Thyself within the soul,
0 soul in soul! Myst'ry in myst'ry hid!
Before all wert Thou, and are more than all!

'Why was Adam driven from the garden?'
The pupil asked his master. 'His heart was hardened
With images, a hundred bonds that clutter the earth
Chained Adam to the cycle of death following birth.
He was blind to this equation, living for something other
Than God and so out of paradise he was driven
With his mortal body's cover his soul was shriven.
Noblest of God's creatures, Adam fell with blame,
Like a moth shrivelled by the candle's flame,
Into history which taught mankind shame.
Since Adam had not given up his heart
To God's attachment, there was no part
For Adam in paradise where the only friend
Is God; His will is not for Adam to imagine and bend.

We are busy with the luxury of things.
Their number and multiple faces bring
To us confusion we call knowledge. Say:
God created the world, pinned night to day,
Made mountains to weigh it down, seas
To wash its face, living creatures with pleas
(The ancestors of prayers) seeking a place
In this mystery that floats in endless space.

God set the earth on the back of a bull,
The bull on a fish dancing on a spool
Of silver light so fine it is like air;
That in turn rests on nothing there
But nothing that nothing can share.
All things are but masks at God's beck and call,
They are symbols that instruct us that God is all.

We are busy with the luxury of things.
Their number and multiple faces bring
To us confusion we call knowledge. Say:
God created the world, pinned night to day,
Made mountains to weigh it down, seas
To wash its face, living creatures with pleas
(The ancestors of prayers) seeking a place
In this mystery that floats in endless space.

God set the earth on the back of a bull,
The bull on a fish dancing on a spool
Of silver light so fine it is like air;
That in turn rests on nothing there
But nothing that nothing can share.
All things are but masks at God's beck and call,
They are symbols that instruct us that God is all.

Your face is neither infinite nor ephemeral.
You can never see your own face,
only a reflection, not the face itself.
So you sigh in front of mirrors
and cloud the surface.
It's better to keep your breath cold.
Hold it, like a diver does in the ocean.
One slight movement, the mirror-image goes.
Don't be dead or asleep or awake.
Don't be anything.
What you most want,
what you travel around wishing to find,
lose yourself as lovers lose themselves,
and you'll be that.

O God, take away the words of the devil
That mix with my prayer--
If not, then take my prayer as it is, devil and all.  

O God, take away the words of the devil
That mix with my prayer--
If not, then take my prayer as it is, devil and all.  

Where a part of you goes
The rest of you will follow---given time.
You call yourself a teacher:
Therefore learn.       

---

I love God: I have no time left
In which to hate the devil.      

---

How long will you keep pounding on an open door
Begging for someone to open it?        

Where a part of you goes
The rest of you will follow---given time.
You call yourself a teacher:
Therefore learn.       

---

I love God: I have no time left
In which to hate the devil.      

---

How long will you keep pounding on an open door
Begging for someone to open it?        

I saw myself in a wide green garden, more beautiful than I could begin to understand. In this garden was a young girl. I said to her, "How wonderful this place is!"

"Would you like to see a place even more wonderful than this?" she asked.

"Oh yes," I answered. Then taking me by the hand, she led me on until we came to a magnificent palace, like nothing that was ever seen by human eyes. The young girl knocked on the door, and someone opened it. Immediately both of us were flooded with light.

Only Allah knows the inner meaning of the maidens we saw living there. Each one carried in her hand a serving-tray filled with light. The young girl asked the maidens where they were going, and they answered her, "We are looking for someone who was drowned in the sea, and so became a martyr. She never slept at night, not one wink! We are going to rub funeral spices on her body."

"Then rub some on my friend here," the young girl said.

"Once upon a time," said the maidens, "part of this spice and the fragrance of it clung to her body -- but then she shied away."

Quickly the young girl let go of my hand, turned, and said to me:

"Your prayers are your light;
Your devotion is your strength;
Sleep is the enemy of both.
Your life is the only opportunity that life can give you.
If you ignore it, if you waste it,
You will only turn to dust."

Then the young girl disappeared

With my Beloved I alone have been,
When secrets tenderer than evening airs
Passed, and the Vision blest
Was granted to my prayers,
That crowned me, else obscure, with endless fame;
The while amazed between
His Beauty and His Majesty
I stood in silent ecstasy
Revealing that which o'er my spirit went and came.
Lo, in His face commingled
Is every charm and grace;
The whole of Beauty singled
Into a perfect face
Beholding Him would cry,
'There is no God but He, and He is the most High.'

 

In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
How can you describe the true form of Something
In whose presence you are blotted out?
And in whose being you still exist?
And who lives as a sign for your journey?

My peace, O my brothers and sisters, is my solitude,
And my Beloved is with me always,
For His love I can find no substitute,
And His love is the test for me among mortal beings,
Whenever His Beauty I may contemplate,
He is my "mihrab", towards Him is my "qiblah"
If I die of love, before completing satisfaction,
Alas, for my anxiety in the world, alas for my distress,
O Healer (of souls) the heart feeds upon its desire,
The striving after union with Thee has healed my soul,
O my Joy and my Life abidingly,
You were the source of my life and from Thee also came my ecstasy.
I have separated myself from all created beings,
My hope is for union with Thee, for that is the goal of my desire

Your hope in my heart is the rarest treasure
Your Name on my tongue is the sweetest word
My choicest hours
Are the hours I spend with You --
O Allah, I can't live in this world
Without remembering You--
How can I endure the next world
Without seeing Your face?
I am a stranger in Your country
And lonely among Your worshippers:
This is the substance of my complaint.

To what shore would you cross, O my heart?  there is no traveller

  before you, there is no road:

Where is the movement, where is the rest, on that shore?

There is no water; no boat, no boatman, is there;

There is not so much as a rope to tow the boat, nor a man to draw

  it.

No earth, no sky, no time, no thing, is there: no shore, no ford!

There, there is neither body nor mind: and where is the place

  that shall still the thirst of the soul?  You shall find naught

  in that emptiness.

Be strong, and enter into your own body: for there your foothold

  is firm.  Consider it well, O my heart! go not elsewhere,

Kabîr says: "Put all imaginations away, and stand fast in that

  which you are."