Souls on Fire Selections from Eight Sufi Mystics

Happy are two wayfarers

who in this foreign land of trials

chance upon each other and relish a few moments

speaking of their longing for their Home. (Jami)

Dedicated to the Beloved Master

Sant Kirpal Singh Ji Maharaj

The Sufis are the mystics of Islam. Every upright Muslim expects to see God after death, but the

Sufis are the impatient ones. They want God now – moment by moment, day by day, in this very life.

And they are willing to undergo the disciplines that make that possible. (Huston Smith, Foreword Essential Sufism)

For thousands of years, Sufism has offered a path on which one can progress toward the “great end”

of Self-realization, or God-realization. Sufism is a way of love, a way of devotion, and a way of

knowledge.

Sufism is often described as a path, suggesting both an origin and a destination. The aim of Sufism is

the elimination of all veils between the individual and God. Traveling this path, one can acquire

knowledge of Reality. God is the ultimate reality, not this phenomenal world of multiplicity.

To understand Sufism, we must understand mysticism. The Greek root myein, “to close the eyes,” is

also the root of “mystery”; the mystic’s goal is not to be reached by the intellect or by ordinary

means. Fundamentally, mysticism is love of the Absolute, the One Reality, also called Truth, Love,

or God. (Introduction: Essential Sufism)

Contents

Rabia = 1-4

Shaikh Abu-Saeed Abil-Kheir = 5-9

Ansari of Herat = 10-12

Attar = 13-16

Rumi = 17-22

Sharafuddin Maneri = 23-26

Hafiz = 27-31

Jami = 32-34

-1-

Rabia Basri 717 – 801

Rābiʻa al-ʻAdawiyya al-Qaysiyya was a female Muslim saint and Sufi mystic. Much of her

early life is narrated by Farid ud-Din Attar, a later Sufi Saint and poet, who used earlier

sources. Rabia herself did not leave any written works about her life.

Although not born into slavery, her family was poor yet respected in the community. After the

death of her father a famine overtook Basra and Rabia parted from her sisters. Legend has it,

that she was accompanying a caravan, which fell into the hands of robbers. The chief of the

robbers took Rabia captive, and sold her in the market as a slave. The new master of Rabia

used to take hard service from her.

After she had finished her house jobs, she would pass the whole night in prayer. She spent

many of her days observing fast. Once the master of the house got up in the middle of the

night, and was attracted by the voice in which Rabia was praying to her Lord. She was

entreating in these terms:

“Lord! You know well that my keen desire is to carry out Your commandments and to serve

Thee with all my heart, O light of my eyes. If I were free I would pass the whole day and night

praying to You. But what should I do when you have made me a slave of a human being?”

At once the master felt that it was sacrilegious to keep such a saintly woman in his service. He

decided to serve her instead. In the morning he called her and told her his decision; he would

serve her and she should dwell there as the mistress of the house. If she insisted on leaving the

house he was willing to free her from bondage. She told him that she was willing to leave the

house to carry on her worship in solitude. This the master granted and she left the house.

Rabia went into the desert to pray and became an ascetic. She is often cited as being the queen

of saintly women, and was known for her complete devotion in the form of pure love of God.

As an exemplar among others devoted to God, she provided a model of mutual love between

God and His creation; her example is one in which the loving devotee on earth becomes one

with the Beloved.

She contributed a successful life of pure, selfless love as a supplement to the sometimes strict

ascetic practices of her predecessors. This perfect love she sought to promote shifted the

existence of the ascetic for her own person, now living for the Beloved in complete reverence

to God.

Her master was Ḥasan al-Baṣrī, himself a known saint elevated at the level of the seven sacred

souls. She did not possess much other than a broken jug, a rush mat and a brick, which she

used as a pillow. She spent all night in prayer and contemplation. As her fame grew she had

many disciples. She also had discussions with many of the renowned religious people of her

time. Though she had many offers of marriage, and (tradition has it) one even from the Amir

of Basra, she refused them as she had no time in her life for anything other than God. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabi'a_al-'Adawiyya)

-2-

O God, the stars are shining, all eyes have closed in sleep; the kings have locked their doors.

Each lover is alone, in secret, with the one he loves. And I am here too: alone, hidden from all

of them – with You.

O God, another night is passing away, another day is rising. Tell me that I have spent the

night well so I can be at peace, or that I have wasted it, so I can mourn for what is lost.

I swear that ever since the first day You brought me back to life, the day You became my

Friend, I have not slept – and even if you drive me from Your door, I swear again that we will

never be separated, because you are alive in my heart.

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 Master, 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.

Brethren, my rest is in my solitude, and my Beloved is ever in my presence. Nothing for me

will do but love of Him; by love of Him I am tested in this world. Wherever I am I

contemplate His beauty. O Thou, ever my joy, my life, from Thee is my existence and my

ecstasy. From all creation I have turned away, for union with Thee my desired end.

The source of my grief and loneliness is deep in my breast. This is a disease no doctor can

cure. Only union with the Friend can cure it.

You have infused my being through and through, as an intimate friend must always do.

So when I speak, I speak of only You, and when silent, I yearn for You.

Two loves I give Thee: Love that yearns and Love because Thy due is Love. In my yearning

my remembrance turns to Thee, nor lets it from Thee rove. Thou hast Thy due whenever it

pleases Thee to lift the veils for me to see Thee. Praise is not mine in this, nor yet in that, but

Thine in this and that.

O Lord, if I worship You because of fear of hell then burn me in hell. If I worship You

because I desire paradise then exclude me from paradise. But if I worship You for Yourself

alone then deny me not Your eternal beauty.

Without You – O my life, my love – I would never have wandered across these endless

countries. How many gifts and graces You have given me! How many favors You have fed

me from Your hand! I look for Your love in all directions then, suddenly, its blessing burns in

me. O Captain of my heart – Radiant Eye of longing in my breast – I will never be free of

You as long as I live. Only be satisfied with me, life of my heart, and I am satisfied.

How numerous Your favors bestowed upon me, favors of gifts and grace and assistance.

Your love is now my only desire and my ultimate bliss.

-3-

I am fully qualified to work as a doorkeeper for this reason: what is inside me, I don’t let out;

what is outside me, I don’t let in. If someone comes in, he goes right out again. He has

nothing to do with me at all. I am a Doorkeeper of the Heart, not a lump of wet clay.

Sometimes I take my dog for a walk and turn her loose in a field. When I can’t give her that

freedom I feel in debt. I hope God thinks like that and is keeping track of all the bliss He

owes me!

He is sweet that way, trying to coax the world to dance. Look how the wind holds the trees in

its hands helping them to sway. Look how the sky takes the fields and the oceans and our

bodies in its arms, and moves all beings toward His lips. God must get hungry for us; why is

He not also a lover who wants His lovers near. Beauty is my teacher helping me to know He

cares for me.

Your prayers were light and your worship peaceful, your sleep an enemy of prayer. Your life

was a test, but you let it go by without a thought. It’s ever-passing, slowly vanishes before

you know it.

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 into dust.

Rabia was once asked, “How did you attain that which you have attained?” “By often praying,

‘I take refuge in You, O God, from everything that distracts me from You, and from every

obstacle that prevents me from reaching You.’ ”

On one occasion, Rabia sent three things to Hasan: a piece of wax, a needle, and a hair. “Light

up the world,” she told him, “although like wax you burn yourself. And, like a needle, be

always busy in spiritual work, while outwardly barren. When you acquire these virtues, make

your ego thin as a hair, so all your efforts are not wasted.”

One day Rabia was sick and her holy friends came to visit her, sat by her bedside, and began

complaining about the world. “You must be pretty interested in this world,” said Rabia,

“otherwise you wouldn’t talk about it so much. Whoever breaks the merchandise has to have

bought it first.”

“I am the murderer of joy, the widower of wives, the orphaner of children” said the Angel of

Death. “Why always run yourself down?” said Rabia. “Why not say instead, ‘I am he who

brings friend and Friend together?’ ”

On one occasion a Sufi said to Rabia when she was ill, “If you would utter a prayer, God

would relieve your suffering.” She turned her face to him and said, “O Sufyan, do you not

know who it is that wills this suffering for me? Is it not God who wills it?” “Yes”, he replied.

“When you know this, why do you ask for what is contrary to His will? It is not well to

oppose one's beloved,” replied Rabia.

-4-

The Compassion of Rabia Told by Sant Kirpal Singh

You may remember the life of Rabia Basri. One day she was accompanying some others on a

pilgrimage, and they stopped at a well to drink and gather water for their journey. When they

had finished, had packed away the rope, and were on their way again, Rabia noticed a dog by

the roadside who was nearly dying of thirst. She mentioned this to her companions, but they

refused to stop and help the dog.

Rabia herself went back to the well. The others had taken the rope, so she took her clothes and

tied them together; but they did not reach the water in the well. She tore out her hair and tied

this on the end, and she was thereby able to wet the clothes and take them back to the dog

who gratefully drank the water she wrung from them. As she tended the dog, she heard the

voice of the Lord saying, “Rabia, your pilgrimage has been accepted.” He for whom we

pilgrimage and He for whom we search resides in each and every being. Do we expect to be

accepted when we ignore Him?

-5-

Shaikh Abu-Saeed Abil-Kheir 967-1049

Referring to himself as “Nobody, Son of Nobody,” Shaikh Abu-Saeed Abil-Kheir [also

spelled Abū-Sa'īd Abul-Khayr] expressed the reality that his life had disappeared in the heart

of God. This renowned but lesser-known Sufi mystic of the 10th century preceded the great

poet Rumi by over two hundred years on the same path of annihilation in love. (Vraje Abramian)

Although Abil-Kheir spent much of his life in Iran, during his lifetime his fame spread

throughout the Islamic world, even to Spain. He was the first Sufi writer to widely use

ordinary love poems as a way to express and illuminate mysticism, and as such he played a

major role in the foundation of Persian Sufi poetry.

His system is based on a few themes that appear frequently in his words, generally in the form

of simple emotional poems. The main focus of his teachings is liberation from “I”, which he

considered the one and only cause of separation from God and to which he attributed all

personal and social misfortunes.

He believed that the full application of these teachings to one's life requires both divine grace

and the guidance of an experienced Sufi, and is impossible through personal efforts alone.

His picture as portrayed in various Sufi writings is a particularly joyful one of continuous

ecstasy.

Other famous Sufis made frequent references to him, a notable example being the Persian Sufi

poet Farid al-Din Attar, who mentions Abil-Kheir as his spiritual guide. Many miracles are

attributed to him in Sufi writings. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ab%C5%AB-Sa'%C4%ABd_Abul-Khayr)

-6-

I am the one You created from dust, a handful of dust moving at Your wish. You planted this

seed, this growth is obeying that command.

Rise early at dawn, when our storytelling begins. In the dead of the night, when all other

doors are locked, the door for the lovers to enter opens. Be wide awake in the dark when

lovers begin fluttering around the Beloved’s window, like homing pigeons arriving with

flaming bodies.

Be an early riser, seek the Beloved in your silence and solitude. Do not let go of the One who

receives you at the end. Avoid attachment to all and everyone else.

It is the dark of the early morning, Friend. All those thirsting after You have their foreheads

on the dust at Your gate. O Beloved source of the Water of Life, pray order Your wine bearer

to water this pile of dust!

Every dawn I bring my heart to You, my lamentations are to soften Your heart, so You grant

me the honor of being a beggar at Your gate, and no one else’s.

You play asleep these long nights and I am missing You. You play remote and distant. This

tossing and turning, these long hot dry spells and I am missing You.

Who am I? One fed up with his self, at war with sanity. One who burnt with jealousy last

night hearing the true lamentations of a truly broken one at the Beloved’s gate.

My Beloved, giver of all needs, and their satisfier too, pray see to it that I need none but You,

and knock on no door but Yours.

O’ Friend of the fallen, untie this knot! Only You can. Have pity on me and this bewildered

mind. O’ Bestower of grace, I have nowhere to go, do not send me away from Your gate,

O’ Merciful One.

Who am I? One with a fire burning within. One with all hopes severed, hoping to gain the

steadfastness of a rock and the sincerity of the flame. Perhaps then I will deserve to sit at the

feet of the Purified One.

Beloved, Show me the way out of this prison. Make me needless of both worlds. Pray, erase

from this mind all that is not You. Have mercy Beloved, though I am nothing but

forgetfulness. You are the essence of forgiveness. Make me needless of all but You.

My body and soul come together to seek You. It is You that I live and die for. I am here but a

fortnight and then – a handful of dust. You are here to see this love through.

-7-

Wining, dining and desiring I also seek spiritual closeness. This world of flesh and narrow

needs and that world of freedom in limitless expanses cannot tolerate each other. That’s why I

have neither.

One moment, You are all I know, Friend. Next moment, eat, drink and be merry! O’ Friend,

how will this scatteredness that is me find its way to You?

You are either involved with the highs and lows here, or are busy sweeping the refuse. How

about a real loss? A true gain? A complete chaos? An unbridled mayhem? How long will you

put up with this repetitive boredom?

If you taste every happiness here every moment of your life, if you spend all your days in the

milky arms of sweethearts, death awaits at the appointed corner. All of this is naught but a

dream from which you will wake up.

If you do not give up the crowds, you won’t find your way to Oneness. If you do not drop

your self, you won’t find your true worth. If you do not offer all you have to the Beloved,

you will live this life free of that pain which makes it worth living.

Beloved, make contentment my wealth, Your love, the joy of my heart. Let this creature of

Yours thrive on You, his Creator. Make me needless of other creatures. Make me needless of

both worlds. Grant me that poverty You gift Your friends. Guide this seeker in the direction

of the secret victory. My Love, accept me to the inner circle of Your lovers, so I can share the

secrets of their devotion. Beloved, I am tortured by this tyrant of a mind. Grant me the

glorious lunacy of love and release me from myself.

No one is sent away from Your door. Those on whom Your sweet gaze rests for a moment

become life’s eternal darlings. Any particle which receives the light of Your attention

becomes a thousand suns and more.

This corpse was given life, to find and fall in love with that Mystery, etched in sweet pain in

the living heart. Instead you trash around, sick and unfulfilled, seeking life from other

corpses.

The essence of happiness you will know when you discard all you hold dear! Two beloveds in

one heart won’t reside. If you want the True One, cross out all else.

To be in this imperfect existence for a moment and to dream of Your eternal perfection, to

have this heart full of wretched limitations and to harbor this infinite pain of separation and

longing in it, Your favors, Beloved. All Your favors.

The lover cannot live without sorrow. Lack or abundance hardly matter. Fortunate is the one

who offers his life at the first sight of the Beloved.

-8-

My tears would flood the Oxus River if my eyes didn’t forever behold Your vision, Friend.

Driven insane with the pain of separation, my heart would sink in its own blood if it did not

float in the river of Your remembrance. I would devise a thousand tricks to spring my soul

out of the cage of this body, if it did not insist on enduring this exile, to arrive in obedience at

her wedding with You, Beloved.

Beloved, if life itself abandons me, Your thought won’t. The reflection of the glory of Your

face has been etched onto my heart. This, neither life nor death can erase.

Find the secret of your great good fortune, and the priceless opportunity of this life will not

have gone to waste. No matter where, who with, or what, ever remember the Beloved in the

privacy of the love chamber of your heart.

Ups and downs in my life are nothing but messengers from You. Joy and sorrow remind me

of You only. I am so used to Your presence, Beloved, Your absence is nothing but a reminder

of the coming togetherness.

I look for no cure for this pain. With Your beauty in my heart I look for no beliefs, no faith.

When my time comes and I hear You call, I will worry not and turn in this wretched coin of a

body to my Beloved, the owner of all treasures.

Of all my infinite pains, and worse than this incessant burning in the chest, is the fact that You

are sitting inside my very eye, and I cannot see You.

How long will you worry about this vicious world? How long will you fret about your body?

The worst this world can do is to take away this cesspool of a prison your soul is trapped in.

Is that why you are worried?

If you are a lover, worry about none and own nothing. Rejoice in the promise of the Beloved

that in this world, and the next, you have naught but Him.

My hair has turned white, all these years I have gathered nothing but these dark deeds. I had

no perfumed incense to bring You. I have brought You these dry sticks. My boldness in

entertaining hopes of forgiveness and dreams of union comes from Your royal decree, my

love. “Despair is disobedience and shows lack of faith.”

O’ Friend of the fallen, have mercy on this poor one. Do not allow my shortcomings to sit in

my judgment, but Your grace and mercy. My existence is a mire of weakness and

helplessness, let Your pity and generosity pull me out of here.

My Beloved, don’t be heartless with me. Your Presence is my only cure. How can I be left

with neither a heart, nor my Beloved? Either return my heart, or do not deny me Your

presence.

-9-

A hundred time a day I implore You O Pure One, Absolute Creator. I am a handful of dust,

what may be expected of such as me? I know in Your infinite mercy one day You will allow

me to dissolve and join You. In Your infinite knowledge and mercy I rest, with no fear of the

world.

I have taken refuge in Your glorious court, a fallen beggar in tatters. You are all glory and

grace, I am all ignorance and resentment. Confused and bewitched I am fed up with myself.

With vows made and vows broken I have come. Trusting Your love and my wretchedness,

I have come. O’ knower of my sins made, and yet to be made, forsake me not. I am nothing,

You are the All. I am at the end of my rope, grant me the trust to let myself fall.

It is Him manifest in us, all our struggles and achievements, from that Source. Humility and

meekness are appropriate here. Before tasting the Presence, one rejects all that is manifest.

Be humble. Only fools take pride in their station here, trapped in a cage of dust, moisture, heat

and air. No need to complain of calamities, this illusion of a life lasts but a moment.

This frail body, bent under my heavy load of dark deeds, what if You hold my hand and walk

with me, Beloved? Though in my deeds You will find nothing deserving, in Your merciful

generosity there is everything I will ever need.

One day this self and all dear to it will be blown around in dust and dirt. While you still have

a chance, offer all you have here at this purifying flame, and be cleansed. Garments torn, heart

of fire, let your whole being burn away in this Love.

-10-

Ansari of Herat 1006-1088

Hazrat Shaikh Abu Ismaïl Abdullah al-Herawi al-Ansari was a famous Persian Sufi who lived

in the 11th century in Herat (Afghanistan).

Abdullah was the disciple of Shaikh Abul Hassan Kharaqani, for whom he had deep respect

and faith, as he has said: “Abdullah was a hidden treasure, and its key was in the hands of

Abul Hassan Kharaqani.”

He wrote several books on Islamic mysticism and philosophy in Persian and Arabic. His most

famous work is "Munajat Namah" (literally ‘Litanies or dialogues with God’), which is

considered a masterpiece of Persian literature. After his death, many of his sayings that had

been transmitted by his students along with others that were in his written works were

included in the Tafsir of Maybudi, “Kashf al-Asrar” (The Unveiling of Secrets). This is

among the earliest complete Sufi Tafsirs of Quran and has been published several times in 10

volumes.

He excelled in the knowledge of Hadith, history, and Ilm ul-Ansaab. He used to avoid the

company of the rich, powerful and the influential. His yearly majlis-e-wa'az was attended by

people from far and wide. Whatever his disciples and followers used to present to him was

handed over to the poor and the needy. He is said to have had a very impressive personality,

and used to dress gracefully. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khwaja_Abdullah_Ansari)

-11-

O Lord, give me that right discrimination that the lure of the world may cheat me no more.

Urged by desire, I wandered in the streets of good and evil. I gained nothing except feeding

the fire of desire. As long as in me remains the breath of life, help me, for Thou alone can

hear my prayer.

O Lord, give me understanding that I stray not from the Path. Give me Light to avoid pitfalls.

O Lord, keep watch over me that I stray not. Keep me on the path of righteousness that I

escape from the pangs of repentance.

O Lord, other men are afraid of You, but I – I am afraid of myself. From You flows good

alone, from me flows evil. Others fear what tomorrow may bring; I am afraid of what

happened yesterday. If You hold me responsible for my sins I will cling to You for Your

grace. I with my sin am an insignificant atom. Your Grace is resplendent as the sun.

O Lord! I have squandered my life, wounded my soul, done everything in my power to

delight the Evil One. Whether I go on living or not does not matter. Accept my repentance,

forgive my sins, take me from misery to joy.

If words can establish a claim, I claim a crown. But if deeds are wanted, I am as helpless as an

ant.

My Lord, I have no key to open doors, nor the power for forgiveness; O Peerless One, our

Creator, what harm if You hear the cry of this afflicted one? Without Your will creation

would not be. Without Your guidance we would be powerless. If you overlook what I have

done or where I have failed, I would gain everything, and You lose nothing!

O Lord, I come to You as a slave, on my lips repentance, on my tongue the appeal for

forgiveness. If you wish, You bless me. If not, I am forlorn. I am full of shame. You are the

Lord all-powerful!

Please grant me a vision of Your beautiful form. The spark You have kindled, make it

everlasting. I think of no other and in Your Love care for none else. None has a place in my

heart but You. My heart has become Your abode; it has no place for another.

O Lord, I, a beggar, ask of You more than what a thousand kings may ask of You. Each one

has something he needs to ask of You; I have come to ask You to give me Yourself.

O Lord, intoxicate me with the wine of Your love. Place the chains of Your slavery on my

feet; make me empty of all but Your Love, and in it destroy me and bring me back to life.

The hunger You have awakened culminates in fulfillment.

-12-

O Lord, to find You is my desire, but to comprehend You is beyond my strength.

Remembering You is solace to my sorrowing heart; thoughts of You are my constant

companions. I call upon You night and day. The flame of Your Love glows in the darkness of

my night.

Life in my body pulses only for You. My heart beats in resignation to Your will. If on my

grave a clump of grass where to grow, every blade of it would tremble with my passion for

You.

He knows all our good and all our evil. Nothing is, or can be, hidden from Him. He knows too

what the best medicine is to cure our pain and rescue the destroyed. Be humble, for He exalts

the humble.

Fasting is a way to save on food. Vigil and prayer is a labor for old folks. Pilgrimage is an

occasion for tourism. To distribute bread in alms is something for philanthropists. Fall in love:

that is doing something!

He who knows three things is saved from three things: Who knows that the Creator made no

mistakes at creation is saved from petty fault finding. Who knows that He made no favoritism

in allotting fortune is saved from jealousy. Who knows of what he is created is saved from

pride.

God’s favor comes unexpectedly, but only to an alert heart. Put not your hope in people, for

you will be wounded. Put your hope in God that you may be delivered.

Be humble and cultivate silence. If you have received, rejoice and fill yourself with ecstasy.

And if not, continue the demand.

-13-

Attar 1119-1221

Sheikh Farideddin Attar Neyshaboori was a Persian Muslim mystic, poet, and theoretician of

Sufism who had an immense and lasting influence on Persian Poetry and Sufism.

“Attar” means perfumer/herbalist in Arabic. His father was an herbalist and Attar followed in

his profession. His relative financial independence gave him the possibility to avoid

entanglements with, and dependence on, rulers and courts. He married and had children, but

details about his life are sketchy.

Rumi uses more than a few pieces of Attar’s works as the basis of some of his poems in

Divan-e Shams-e Tabriz, and whenever Attar is mentioned he is given reverence reserved for

those with the highest spiritual attainment. (from the introduction Sweet Sorrows)

Attar's initiation into Sufi practices is subject to much speculation. Of all the famous Sufi

Shaykhs supposed to have been his teachers, only one - Majd ud-Din Baghdadi a disciple of

Najmuddin Kubra- comes within the bounds of possibility. The only certainty in this regard is

Attar's own statement that he once met him. In any case it can be taken for granted that from

childhood onward Attar, encouraged by his father, was interested in the Sufis and their

sayings and way of life, and regarded their saints as his spiritual guides.

The thoughts depicted in Attar's works reflects the whole evolution of the Sufi movement.

The starting point is the idea that the body-bound soul's awaited release and return to its

source in the other world can be experienced during the present life in mystic union attainable

through inward purification. In explaining his thoughts, Attar uses material not only from

specifically Sufi sources but also from older ascetic legacies. Although his heroes are for the

most part Sufis and ascetics, he also introduces stories from historical chronicles, collections

of anecdotes, and all types of high-esteemed literature. His talent for perception of deeper

meanings behind outward appearances enables him to turn details of everyday life into

illustrations of his thoughts. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attar_of_Nishapur)

-14-

Whoever embarks on the search for a Friend must burn in this fire and wait; but each day he

burns, is his day to celebrate.

Other than the sweet sorrow of missing the Beloved nothing lasts in either world. If your

share from here and hereafter is a drop of this longing, rejoice, for no better cure exists for all

the ills in all the worlds.

Away from You, it is the perfumed memory of our union lingering in my heart that keeps me

alive. You are this perfume my love, without You, my very soul would cease to be.

I have traveled all and many roads, yet I have not taken the first step. Every moment I add to

my worthlessness, and though my hair has turned white, in my desires I am but yesterday’s

child.

O’ companions come, let’s speak about our secret about this ancient heartache. Like strings

on a harp every vein in my body sings of this love. I would say so much more but this pain

refuses to be spoken of.

Beloved, grant those who deny You their denial, and those who come to You for heaven, their

heaven, but pray, grace Attar’s heart with that pain that from You alone one may hope to gain.

This sweet sorrow granted at love’s door is the true treasure buried in our soul – a particle of

it will bestow upon you more than the two worlds could ever hope for. One bereft of this pain

can hope for no cure.

Since I received Your gift of love my task has become difficult, my Love. Water pours out of

my eyes; there is a fire in my heart, my Love.

At night when the sun of my soul rises and my Beloved arrives, I think of a thousand tricks to

stitch my night to eternity wishing the day would never arrive.

Destiny has put this longing for You in my heart, and yet You are thoroughly needless of me.

I have no one I can turn to, neither do I have the patience for this separation.

If being with You is not to be my lot then I’ll spend this life longing for You. As long as

there’s a single breath yet it’ll be spent in this remembrance.

A human is a handful of dirt with some air in it for breathing; the soul is the treasure buried

there deep with the dragon of the body guarding it.

To repent is to disregard all that’s offered here and to move our hopes from here to There.

There’s a mystery beyond all mysteries – a light brighter than all other lights. Remember,

while attending to all your affairs, there is a task above all other tasks.

-15-

Whoever came into being is like unto a dewdrop separated from the ocean; that which it used

to be is what it searches after.

Poverty of the soul is to want nothing in both worlds but the way out of this waywardness.

When a wayfarer mixes up the identities – his own and that of his donkey and makes his

purpose in life the comfort of his beast – he comes to know remorse and dies of grief.

A lunatic who made his home in a cemetery witnessed final prayers for one corpse too many.

Turning to the crowds he declared in his genuine wit, “Why not say a farewell prayer for this

entire world and all in it and get it over with?”

Whatever you collect here chains you. When that night arrives which does not contain

tomorrow’s promise, one who possesses the least and knows peace steps lightly and

welcomes the release.

To be content is to see blessings in all things and within them to behold the One who gives all

blessings.

How can one remember death and still cause torment and be unjust? Some days death

clutches at my heart, yet other times I take solace in its approach and find peace, for from this

dust bin it heralds my soul’s release.

When one dies one of two things happens: if he arrives filthy he is scrubbed, if he arrives pure

he is clothed in peace.

You are a heavenly bird stuck in this dark well where you die knowing neither heaven nor

earth. If you ignore the bones thrown to the dogs here you might discover your wings and

leave this dark cell.

Though a human here seems a handful of dirt, no dirt ever touches the Sun within. One who

doesn’t behold that Sun dies a blind bat. A life not offered to its Beloved is its own

punishment.

To be truly smart is to outsmart your clever mind.

Loghman the wise said, “I have regretted a great deal because of saying too much, but never

has silence brought any regrets or heartaches.”

Bou-Ali Toosi, the great mystic, asked a knower, “Is this journey from man to God or from

God to man?” “Neither,” said the knower, “for if He is all there is, and none other exists, then

this journey is from God to God!”

-16-

Cause no pain and be patient with your load. To your true home this is the shortest road.

Trust the Giver in steadfast patience for if He does not withhold from those who never

remember, why would He withhold from those who only in Him put their trust?

Why would the One who provides for those who deny him withhold from one who lives in his

remembrance?

A seeker went to a master in China, “Teach me about truth,” he said. “There are ten steps to

truth,” he replied. “The first is to speak less, the other nine are heard in silence.”

When the world is finally calm and asleep be awake, alone, distant from yourself, and let your

heart call your Beloved. That which one might receive on such a night is unlike the trinkets

we are here offered.

The breeze of dawn blows every particle of dust to ecstasy; whoever received a robe of honor

received it at this hour. Rise early and let your longing sigh, for nothing brings a human more

joy or may elevate one as high.

To have joy is to die to everything that will die tomorrow.

One who thirsts for inner meaning must take shelter at the Master’s feet. The least one thus

achieves in this world is that he is not waylaid by its bandits.

It is the soul’s restless longing that brings a human heart to life, and a single coquettish glance

from the Beloved grants a soul its dream after which a lifetime of wailing is the lover’s lot.

To live in your Beloved’s command is to find your soul in servanthood and to let every

particle of you be annihilated in the Beloved’s wish.

When the soul vanishes in Light it enters the heaven of the pure ones. One who is thus clad in

divinity is a message from God to himself. You who have been blessed within and without

step forward then and receive this gift of Light.

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.

-17-

Rumi 1207-1273

Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī was a 13th-century Persian poet, jurist, Islamic scholar,

theologian, and Sufi mystic. Rumi's influence transcends national borders and ethnic

divisions. His poems have been widely translated into many of the world's languages and

transposed into various formats. Rumi has been described as the most popular poet and the

best selling poet in the United States.

The general theme of Rumi's thought, like that of other mystic and Sufi poets of Persian

literature, is essentially that of the concept of union with his beloved (the primal root) from

which/whom he has been cut off and become aloof — and his longing and desire to restore it.

It was his meeting with the dervish Shams-e Tabrizi on 15 November 1244 that completely

changed his life. From an accomplished teacher and jurist, Rumi was transformed into an

ascetic.

Jalaludin Rumi is one of the greatest mystics and mystic poets known to history. His influence

throughout the Islamic world for over seven hundred years and more recently in Western

countries is astounding. Love is the essence of Rumi, love became his very being, love is the

impetus of all his poetry. Rumi was often quoted in the writings of Sant Kirpal Singh, who

referred to Rumi as a “great saint”. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumi)

-18-

God has planted in your heart the desire to search for Him. Do not look at your weaknesses

but focus on the Search. Every seeker is worthy of this Search. Strive to redouble your efforts,

so that your soul may escape from this material prison.

Your task? To work with all the passion of your being to acquire an Inner Light, so you escape

and are safe from the fires of madness, illusion, and confusion that are, and always will be,

the world.

From my first breath I have longed for Him. This longing has become my life. This longing

has seen me grow old.

Weeping is like the clouds, and longing is like the heat of the sun. Just as the sun’s heat is the

cause of bringing rains from the clouds, by which this world remains in existence; similarly,

separation, longing for Him and restlessness - all these are like fires which make the currents

of grace and mercy of God burst out, as the rain does from the clouds, and pacify the hearts of

devotees. Tears in the eyes and pain in the heart are the two pillars between which we pass to

go within.

I will cry to Thee and cry to Thee and cry to Thee until the milk of Thy kindness boils up.

I once had a thousand desires, but in my one desire to know You all else melted away.

Oh, my Beloved, you will find us every night, on Your street, with our eyes glued to Your

window, waiting for a glimpse of Your radiant face.

It is the burn of the heart that I want. It is this burning which is everything - more precious

than a worldly empire - because it calls God secretly in the night.

I wish I could give you a taste of the burning fire of love. There is a fire blazing inside of me.

If I cry about it, or if I don’t, the fire is at work, night and day.

I wish that I had wept so much in my longing to meet the Lord that the tears from my eyes

had swelled into a river, and every tear drop had turned into a spiritual pearl. Then I would

have placed all those pearls before the altar of my Beloved.

As I waited, I paced back and forth, until the child of my heart became quiet. The child slept,

as if I were rocking his cradle. Oh Beloved, give milk to the infant of the heart, and don’t hold

us from our turning. You have cared for hundreds, don’t let it stop with me now. At the end,

the town of unity is the place for the heart. Why do you keep this bewildered heart in the town

of dissolution?

I’ve been dead to this world for a long time. Every day my body grows weaker and soon it

will return to the earth. It’s not difficult to renounce this life or this world, but to give up Your

love, that is difficult - no, impossible.

-19-

Tears in the eyes and pain in the heart are the two pillars between which we pass to go within.

Man’s work in this world is nothing but to cry in intense longing due to separation from the

Lord. Look at the infant. It cries as soon as it is born. It comes into the world crying.

Therefore, just as a light burns throughout the night, in the same manner you should shed tears

after midnight in longing for the Lord, and continue weeping and asking for His Light. Just as

the wick of a lamp is trimmed, similarly you should trim the wick of your head (ego) so that

the light in you increases. In other words, as soon as you learn to sigh while you are weeping,

there will be a flood of light inside. God values the tears of His lovers as He does the blood of

His martyrs.

O seeker! Cease your sleep at night and walk into the street of those who keep a vigil. You

will behold them happy and blissful in the Lord’s refulgence within, like lovers deep in

contemplation of their Beloveds.

Enter the tumultuous night and from its ocean gather gifts unnamed. The night hides the

beauty of the hidden; the day cannot compare with mysterious night. Sleep he will not want,

and sleep unsound He who has not seen the magical night. Many pure hearts and minds are

nothing but slaves to the night. The night is but an empty black pot if you want to discover the

mystery of the night. The way is long, God speed, O friends, if you want to discover the

mystery of the night. The trade of day is in commerce; i t’s quite another trade at night!

From the beginning of my life I have been looking for Your face, but today I have seen it!

Today I have seen the charm, the beauty, the unfathomable grace of the face I was looking

for. Today I have found You, and those who laughed and scorned me yesterday are sorry that

they were not looking as I did. I am bewildered by the magnificence of Your beauty and wish

to see You with a hundred eyes! My heart has burned with passion and has searched forever

for this wondrous beauty that I now behold! My arrow of love has arrived at the target. My

soul is screaming in ecstasy. Every fiber of my being is in love with You!

I was with Him last night, that one who raises my soul to the heavens. All I did was pray and

beg; all he did was turn his head and smile. It’s not the night’s fault, this thing’s been going

on a long time.

There is some kiss we want with our whole lives, the touch of spirit on the body. At night, I

open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me.

Close the language-door and open the love-window. The moon won't use the door, only the

window.

Love has come and it flows like blood beneath my skin, through my veins. It has emptied me

of my self and filled me with the Beloved. The Beloved has penetrated every cell of my

body. Of myself there remains only a name, everything else is Him.

My soul is mingled with Thee, dissolved in Thee, a soul to cherish as it has Thy perfume!

-20-

Love is here; it is the blood in my veins, my skin. I am destroyed; He has filled me with

Passion. His fire has flooded the nerves of my body. Who am I? Just my name; the rest is

Him.

The rewards of a life of faith and devotion to God are love and inner rapture, and the capacity

to receive the Light of God.

The Saints are the true devotees of God, always listening to the Divine Music within. That

infuses life into the lovers of God.

The sweetness and delights of the resting-place are in proportion to the pain endured on the

Journey. Only when you suffer the pangs and tribulations of exile will you truly enjoy your

homecoming.

Beware! Don’t despair if the Beloved turns you down. If He sends you away today, might He

not call you to Himself tomorrow? If He shuts the door on you, wait there and don’t go away.

After testing your patience, He will give you the seat of honor.

Everything, except love of the most beauteous God, even though outwardly it seems as

pleasant as eating sweets, is in reality an agony of spirit. What is meant by agony of spirit?

It is to advance toward physical death without drinking the Water of Life.

For the lovers of God, He alone is the source of all joy and sorrow. He alone is the true object

of desire; every other kind of love is idle infatuation. Love for God is that flame which, when

it blazes, burns away everything except God. Love for God is a sword which cuts down all

that is not of God. God alone is eternal; all else will vanish. (Rumi)

The spiritually enlightened choose freely to devote themselves to the work of the next world;

the foolish choose freely the work of this.

Your lower, hellish nature tries to lead you into temptation, but you have struggled hard and

now your soul is full of purity. You have quenched the fires of lust for God’s sake, and they

have been transformed into the light of guidance. The fire of anger has turned to forbearance,

the darkness of ignorance to knowledge, the fire of greed to unselfishness, and the thorns of

envy to the roses of love. You have extinguished these fires for the love of God, and

converted your fiery nature into a verdant orchard. The nightingales of the remembrance and

glorification of God sing sweetly in the garden of your heart. Answering the call of God, you

have brought the water of the spirit into the blazing hell of your soul.

Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love.

If destiny comes to help you, love will come to meet you. A life without love isn’t a life.

-21-

The dead regret not dying, but having lost opportunities in life. Well said that Leader of

mankind, that whosoever passes away from the world does not grieve and lament over his

death, but grieves ever over lost opportunities. He says, “Why did I not keep death always in

view, which is the treasury of wealth and sustenance? Why did I blindly all my life set my

affections on vain shadows which perish at death? My regret is not that I have died, but that I

rested on these vain shadows in life. I saw not that my body was a mere shadow or foam,

which foam rises out of and lives on the Ocean (God).

You imagined that you would accomplish this task through your own strength, activity, and

effort. This is the rule that has been established: expend everything you have in journeying on

the Way. Then the bounty will come to you. On this endless road, you are commanded to

travel with your own feeble hands and feet. God knows that you cannot traverse this Way

with feet so feeble. Indeed, in a hundred thousand years you will not arrive at the first way

station. However, when you travel this road until your legs are exhausted and you fall down

flat, until you have no more strength to move forward, then God’s grace will take you in its

arms.

In this dreamlike world, the human spirit is shrouded by a veil as clouds block out the stars,

so it can no longer see its former spiritual abode. The task of the human spirit on earth is to

purify its heart to enable it to see through the veil and focus on the spiritual realm. The heart

must pierce the mystery of this life and see the beginning and the end with unclouded vision.

Free will is the salt of our devotion to God, otherwise there would be no merit in it. The earth

revolves involuntarily, and its movement deserves neither reward nor punishment. Only

actions undertaken as a result of our free will may be weighed on the Day of Judgment.

If I die, don’t say that he died. Say he was dead, became alive, and was taken by the Beloved.

When I die and you wish to visit me, do not come to my grave without a drum, for at God’s

banquet mourners have no place.

Carry the bier when I die, and forget about my heart, for it’s gone from this world. Never cry

for me, for this is the Devil’s work. Don’t follow my hearse with your eyes or heart, for union

and meeting are mine in this hour. When you watch my coffin disappear, forget your

goodbyes to me. The grave simply hides Paradise. Don’t look down, look up at the sun and

moon, who set in joy for me.

Do not cry, “Alas, you are gone!” at my graveside: for me, this is a time of joyful meeting!

Do not bid me farewell when I am lowered into my grave: I have passed through the curtain to

eternal grace!

The body, like a mother, is pregnant with the spirit-child: death is the labor of birth. All the

spirits who have passed over are waiting to see how that proud spirit shall be born.

-22-

Death is in reality spiritual birth, the release of the spirit from the prison of the senses into the

freedom of God, just as physical birth is the release of the baby from the prison of the womb

into the freedom of the world. While childbirth causes pain and suffering to the mother, for

the baby it brings liberation.

Those to whom death seems as sweet as sugar, how can their sight be dazzled by the

temptations of this earthly realm? Physical death holds no bitterness for them; they see it as a

blessed refuge from a prison cell into a glorious garden. It will deliver them from a world of

torment: no one weeps for the loss of such nothingness!

Death is a change that will usher you into Light from darkness, and bestow eternal bliss upon

you. You need have no fear of death, for apart from the physical body you have other bodies.

Therefore, do not be afraid to come out of this body.

When you die, death will disclose the mystery – not the death that takes you to the dark grave,

but the death whereby you are transmuted and enter into the Light.

Die happily and look forward to taking up a new and better form. Like the sun, only when you

set in the west can you rise in the east.

I need more grace than I thought!

-23-

Sharafuddin Maneri 1263-1381

Sharafuddin Ahman ibn Yahya Maneri, known as “The Spiritual Teacher of the Realm,” is

venerated as one of the most famous Islamic saints. This Sufi master was born in Bengal in

Northeast India where he lived, taught, and founded the Firdausiya order of Bihar.

Sharafuddin attended a local mosque-school for his early education. He then went to

Bangladesh where he received a thorough education in all standard branches of Islamic

learning current at the time. He also married the daughter of his mentor and had one son with

whom he returned to Maner on receiving word of his father’s death. After his father’s funeral,

having entrusted his small son to the care of his mother, he set out for Delhi in search of a

spiritual guide, probably during the late 1280’s.

It was in Delhi that he met a number of Sufi masters, including the renowned exemplar of his

age, Sheikh Nizamuddin Awliya. But Sharafuddin did not become his disciple nor the disciple

of any other Sufi master. Finally, as he was about to return to Bihar disappointed, his brother

managed to persuade him to visit yet one more guide, the little-known Najibuddin Firdausi.

An immediate, overpowering attraction drew the two men to one another, and Sharafuddin

became the disciple of Najibuddin.

On his way back to Maner the Bihari saint disappeared into the forest of Bihia and from there

went to the Rajgir Hills, famous for their association with the Buddha and the countless

Buddhist and Hindu monks who reside there.

Many rears later he was coaxed to come to the Friday prayer in Bihar Sharif, about twelve

miles away, and after much coaxing, he was finally persuaded to take up residence there. The

reigning Sultan of Delhi gave him a land grant for his maintenance and ordered a center to be

constructed for him. The saint continued to live in Bihar until his death on Wednesday

evening, January 2, 1381. (from the introduction to The Hundred Letters)

-24-

Due to this good fortune, I have stumbled across You! God knows, I am bursting with joy on

account of You!

I am astonished at my good fortune! Take me by the hand, O You who grasp the hand of all

astonished by You!

If I saw You a thousand times a day, I would still want yet another glimpse!

As long as I live, my trade and my task is this: It is my rest, composure, and companion.

This is how I busy myself each day: I am on a chase and this is my prey!

If You welcome me, then I am Your accepted one: If You do not, I am still Your rejected

servant! I should not be worried whether You accept or reject me: My task, in either state, is

to remain preoccupied with You!

You saw my faults from head to toe, but still purchased me: How shoddy are the goods, how

gracious is the buyer!

I experience neither aversion to hell nor desire for heaven: Remove the veil from Your

countenance, for it is You I long to see!

God forbid that my heart should ever become separated from You, or that it should grow

intimate with anyone other than You. Diverted from love of You, whom would it love?

If it were to quit Your lane, where would it go?

May it never happen, O dearest “idol” of mine, that love of You should depart my heart, or

thought of You, my mind!

Grief for You has plundered my heart, and for You my heart has forsaken all. The secret

unknown even to holy people, Your love whispered in the ear of my heart.

How can a base person, by mere talk, reach this Way? One has to suffer, even be consumed,

and stride forth manfully! If there are two directions along the path to Unity, one loses the

Way: You must decide either to please the Friend or to indulge yourself.

Even what is not asked for He grants; if you ask, imagine what He will give. He is a king:

If He so wishes, He can bestow both worlds upon a beggar!

O generous one who, out of Your hidden treasure, give sustenance to all, how could You

possibly disappoint Your friends, You, a King, with eyes even for me?

-25-

Here am I accepting grief suffered for Your sake as happiness, crying out as I endure

oppression for Your sake. Despite all this, were I to become dust on Your path, I would still

not be worthy of being touched by Your feet!

My eyes desire only the sight of You - my ears long to hear nothing but Your speech!

Look upon the high aspirations of both, even though they be not worthy of Your splendor!

Sometimes I am plunged to the depths, at other times raised on high. Sometimes I experience

the scar of separation, at others, the garden of union! Your awesome majesty may threaten

many of us, yet no lips will part in even a sigh of complaint!

Even if I were to have nothing in this world or the next, by having You, I do have everything!

There is no need for anything else!

As long as you doubt that I am enamored of Your face, regard me as dust clinging to the paw

of Your alley dog.

You said, “Seek another!” I shall, O Peerless One – if You show me another like Yourself.

O God, how can those who seek You be content with heaven; how can Your lovers descend to

anyone else?

If You water, it is Your own plant that is nourished; if You crush, it is the work of Your own

hands that suffers! I am a servant of the type that You know well: Do not throw me away, for

it is You who have sustained me!

I do not lack hope in Your presence, even though my sins be many, since it is Your

forgiveness and mercy which now and in the world to come are my refuge!

O that I might become dust on the paw of Your dog! Since it is not my lot to be a dog in Your

lane!

Who am I along Your Way that in my abode flowers should sprout in my soil from Your

glance? And beyond even this, I have received, from Your bounty, the adornment of Your

love upon my heart!

One day I will have to go and leave this burden behind; except for Your name, nothing will be

found in my record. If my head is not in Your hands, O Ravisher of my heart, at least the dust

from under Your foot will form a crown upon my head.

Any labor undertaken for the sake of love has no trace of laziness about it: Although a

person’s body might grow tired, still his heart never flags.

-26-

There is a city in which the praise of that good Face resounds: The hearts of all peoples of the

world have been veiled from Him. We desire Him, along with others, each of whom eagerly

waits to see who’s favored, who will gain the Friend!

I write Your name on the palm of my hand; fixing my eyes on that Name, I shed tears of

blood. Yet I want nothing but to rivet my attention on You! No matter where my gaze alights,

it is of You that I think!

When your love proves to be true, then you will obey it, for the one who loves is obedient to

the One whom he loves!

Love does all that is necessary: be patient! Simply be a disciple! Let love be your master –

that is all!

Since the Beloved is a king, whatever He says, goes! Concerning His actions, who will be so

bold as to ask why? If He accepts, it is because of His mercy: If He spurns us, that is our

misfortune!

I walk along Your path. How is it that I do not see You? Would that I could be liberated from

the trials of life! You have not even sent me a greeting from where You have gone! O that but

once I might find some trace of Your whereabouts!

I experience a thousand frustrations in my desire for Your face. My whole life has passed in

grief over You: I have done nothing! Yet if I am helped and directed by You, this is wealth

enough for me.

The serpent of love has stung my heart; there is no physician, and none to administer a charm,

except that Beloved with whom I am enthralled. With Him is the charm and the antidote as

well!

Anyone who has taken shelter in the shade of a man of God will never be put to shame as he

travels toward Him. Until the glance of such a man falls upon you, how can you find out

anything about your own being?

The hearts of all are stirred in expectation of seeing Your face! Our bodies, out of fear of

separation, cry out in the midst of pleasure and comfort! Without Your beauty, flowers of

desire turn to thorns in my hope-enkindled eyes!

If You bestow Your grace, we shall certainly be liberated. But if You exercise Your justice –

alas, how humbled we shall be!

O Beloved, my name is inscribed in Your register! I am happy to be the least of Your

soldiers!

-27-

Hafiz 1320-1389

Hafiz’s given name was Shams-ud-din Muhammad. He chose the name Hafiz which means

“memorizer” as a pen name when he began to write poetry; it is a title given to someone who

knows the entire Quran by heart, as he apparently did. He was born about 1320 and died about

1389. He was born in Shiraz, a beautiful city in southern Persia.

Hafiz’s collected works are regarded as a pinnacle of Persian literature. His life and poems

have been the subject of much analysis, commentary and interpretation, influencing post-14th

century Persian writing more than any other author.

Hafiz did not have an easy or comfortable life. He was the youngest of three sons of poor

parents. His father was a coal merchant who died when Hafiz was in his teens. To help

support the family, Hafiz worked as a baker’s assistant by day and put himself through school

at night.

Hafiz had a natural poetic gift. Even as a child, he was able to improvise poems on any

subject in any form and style. When he was in his early twenties he won the patronage of a

succession of rulers and wealthy noblemen. One of his benefactors founded a religious

college and offered Hafiz a position as a teacher. Thus, during his middle years, he served as a

court poet and a college professor. He married and had at least one son.

Hafiz’s livelihood depended solely on patronage. Everyone admired his literary brilliance, but

his poetry boldly celebrated ideas that bordered on heresy, and he had enemies among the

rigorously orthodox who blacklisted him whenever they came to power. Periodically, he

would fall out of favor and lose his position both at court and in the college. He would

sometimes use his skills in calligraphy to support his family until his fortunes improved. At

least once, however, he was forced to leave Shiraz. For several years he lived as an exile,

often in dire poverty. Finally, a new, more tolerant regime allowed him to return home and

resume his career.

Hafiz’s poems expressed every nuance and stage of his growing understanding of love. He

wrote of the game of love, the beauty of the Beloved, the sweet pain of longing, the agony of

waiting, the ecstatic joy of union. He explored different forms and levels of love - his delight

in nature’s beauty, his sweet affection for his wife, his tender feelings for his child - and his

terrible grief and loneliness when both his wife and his son passed away. He wrote of his

relationship with his teacher and his adoration of God.

Hafiz shares his intoxication with the magic and beauty of divine life that pulsates everywhere

around us and within us. He urges us to rise on the wings of love. He challenges us to

confront and master the strongest forces of our own nature. He encourages us to celebrate

even the most ordinary experiences of life as precious divine gifts. He invites us to “awake

awhile” and listen to the delightful music of God’s laughter: “What is this precious love and

laughter budding in our hearts? It is the glorious sound of a soul waking up!” (from The Gift)

Sant Kirpal Singh called Hafiz “a great mystic poet” and “a great saint”.

-28-

My soul endures a magnificent longing.

O Master, You are so gracious. After all these years You still remember who I am: the one

who wears the dust of Your door like a crown. Tell me, who taught You to be so generous to

Your slaves? O Holy Bird, please bless this path I’m on, for I’m new to this traveling, and it’s

a long way I have to go. O morning breeze, take my prayers to the Master, and tell Him that

each day I am on my knees at dawn.

O King of Beauty, turn Your gaze upon this beggar of Yours. Have pity on this forlorn,

helpless devotee of Yours. The heart of this poor one yearns and longs for Your life-giving

glance. With Your dark mysterious eyes fulfill his desire, make him dance!

O Master, I’ve spent my whole life loving You and have no regrets. If I die in the dust of

Your doorway, dreaming of You, I will have lived a full life and will die smiling there.

O Master, I know You taught us that we couldn’t get to You without much effort and without

Your help, but all this silence is leading me astray.

I have been Your lover and been with You a thousand times; yet each time You see me, Your

question is always, “Who is he?”

O Master, since You went away, Your lovers are drinking poison and are dying off like flies.

Why have You abandoned us this way? Have our weeping and our prayers been too much for

Your ears? Are there not tears in Your eyes, too?

Beloved, I am waiting for You to free me into Your Mind and Infinite Being. I am pleading in

absolute helplessness to hear, finally, Your words of grace: Fly! Fly into Me!

O Friend, at this banquet You have set before us, how long must we sit here with an empty

plate?

O Beloved, please come back. My heart is broken and grief has conquered my bleeding heart;

only Your face will free me of this pain.

What have I done that was so bad that You won’t even accept my gifts or recognize my

name? This is Hafiz, and I am standing at Your door. Where else is there for me to go?

Where will I go, what will I do, what will I be, what will be my plan? I’m sick of all this

sorrow and deceit.

What else is there for me to do but to sit here and cry? I wouldn’t wish this sadness on even

my worst enemy. You are far away, and day and night I lie grieving. And why shouldn’t I,

when my heart says there is no hope?

-29-

O Beloved, where are You? Since You left, my heart has become a fountain, and blood is

pouring from my eyes. From the root of every eyelash trickles a hundred drops of blood, and

from my heart pours gallons more! Hafiz has become a slave to this grieving.

O Beloved, please allow us one look at Your face, for life is short and soon You will be gone.

Hafiz, when the way to the tower of the Beloved’s palace is blocked, then in the dust of this

door’s threshold let us put our head and stay.

There’s a limit to my patience, and I can feel the bitterness filling up my heart. O candyman,

bring me some sugar from the Beloved’s lip; my love-disease is tired of so much salt!

Yearning for a drop from my lover’s lips so sweet, I’ve waited at the door of the tavern, at His

feet. Perhaps He’s forgotten the friendship we once had; O morning breeze, remind Him of

the old days and make our hearts glad.

O Beloved, there is no room left in my heart for anything but You! Please show pity on poor

Hafiz. He is wounded and in pain. Even if he seems happy today, he is waiting for sunlight,

and all it ever seems to do is rain.

O Winebringer, bring me some wine, for I am surely mad and need Your cure if I am to give

up all feasting and happiness for You!

The heart is right to cry even when the smallest drop of Light, of love, is taken away. Perhaps

you may kick, moan, scream in a dignified silence, but you are so right to do so in any fashion

until God returns to you.

In the morning when I began to wake, it happened again - that feeling that You, Beloved, had

stood over me all night keeping watch, that feeling that as soon as I began to stir You put

Your lips on my forehead and lit a Holy Lamp inside my heart.

It used to be that when I would wake in the morning I could with confidence say, “What am

‘I’ going to do?” That was before the seed cracked open. Now Hafiz is certain: There are two

of us housed in this body, doing the shopping together in the market and tickling each other

while fixing the evening’s food. Now when I awake all the internal instruments play the same

music: “God, what love-mischief can ‘We’ do for the world today?”

It is my goal to raise my head high, like the cypress, above the clouds. From this height I can

hear the music on the other side of the world’s sad songs.

Sometimes love tastes like this: The pain so sweet I beg God, “May I never open my eyes

again and know another image than what I have just seen. May I never know another feeling

other than your inconceivable immaculate touch. Why not let Hafiz die in this blessed ruin?”

-30-

My heart sits on the arm of God like a tethered falcon suddenly unhooded. I am now blessedly

crazed because my Master’s astounding effulgence is in constant view. My piercing eyes,

which have searched every world for tenderness and love, now lock on the Royal Target - the

Wild Holy One whose beauty illuminates Existence!

Hafiz himself is singing tonight in resplendent glory, for the cup in my heart has revealed the

Beloved’s face, and I have His oath that He will never again depart.

My soul is like a young doe-eyed maid with lips still bruised from last night’s Divine Passion

but my Master makes me live like a humble servant when any king would trade his throne for

the splendor my eye can see.

I am happy even before I have a reason. I am full of Light even before the sky can greet the

sun or the moon. Dear companions, we have been in love with God for so very, very long.

What can Hafiz now do but forever dance!

Like a great starving beast my body is quivering fixed on the scent of Light.

Sitting here loving like this alone again in God’s valley after that magnificent storm of Your

Presence just passed, I am like an elegant cypress whose face and form your beauty ruined.

Why not accuse you of infidelity or much worse when every lover of God in this world would

gladly testify on my behalf.

I have awakened to find violin and cello, flute, harp and trumpet, cymbal, bell and drum - all

within me! From head to toe, every part of my body is chanting and clapping!

Pray to be humble so that God does not have to appear to be so stingy. O pray to be honest,

strong, kind, and pure, so that the Beloved is never miscast as a cruel great miser. I know you

have a hundred complex cases against God in court, but never mind, wayfarer, let’s just get

out of this mess and pray to be loving and humble so that the Friend will be forced to reveal

Himself so near.

You have not danced so badly, my dear, trying to hold hands with the Beautiful One. You

have waltzed with great style, my sweet, crushed angel, to have ever neared God’s heart at all.

Our Partner is notoriously difficult to follow, and even His best musicians are not always easy

to hear. So what if the music has stopped for a while. So what if the price of admission to the

Divine is out of reach tonight. So what, my sweetheart, if you lack the ante to gamble for real

love. The mind and the body are famous for holding the heart ransom, but Hafiz knows the

Beloved’s eternal habits. Have patience, for He will not be able to resist your longings and

charms for long. You have not danced so badly, my dear, trying to kiss the Magnificent One.

You have actually waltzed with tremendous style, my sweet, O my sweet, crushed angel.

-31-

No one can keep us from carrying God wherever we go. No one can rob His Name from our

hearts as we try to relinquish our fears and at last stand victorious. We do not have to leave

Him in the mosque or church alone at night; we do not have to be jealous of tales of saints,

those intoxicated souls who can make outrageous love with the Friend. Our yearning eyes, our

warm-needing bodies, can all be drenched in contentment and Light. No one anywhere can

keep us from carrying the Beloved wherever we go. No one can rob His precious Name from

the rhythm of my heart, steps and breath.

Your breath is a sacred clock, my dear - why not use it to keep time with God’s Name? And if

your feet are ever mobile upon this ancient drum, the earth, O do not let your precious

movements come to naught. Let your steps dance silently to the rhythm of the Beloved’s

Name!

When the mind is consumed with remembrance of Him something divine happens to the heart

that shapes the hand and tongue and eye into the word love.

Water gets poured through a cloth to become free of impurities. The Beloved’s Name is a

mystical weave and pattern - a hidden sieve of effulgence we need to pass through thousands

of times. From my constant remembrance of the Friend, all I now say is safe to drink.

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.

I know the voice of depression still calls to you. I know those habits that can ruin your life still

send their invitations. But you are with the Friend now and look so much stronger. You can

stay that way and even bloom! Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins that may buy you just

a moment of pleasure, but then drag you for days behind a farting camel!

-32-

Jami 1414 - 1492.

Nureddin Abdorrahman Ibn-e Ahmad Jami was born in Iran in 1414 and died in 1492. When

he was five, Parsa Abdorrahman, the Naqshbandi master, was passing through Jam on his way

to Hejaz. Jami was taken to the master by his father to receive blessings. Sixty years later

Jami would write:

…my heart still feels the joy I experienced from that happy meeting. I firmly believe that that

bond of friendship…and love which subsequently bound the great body of pious spirits to this

humble creature, is wholly due to the fortunate influence of his glance…

Jami received his early education from his father and at age thirteen went to Herat (in present

day Afghanistan), which was one of the main cultural and educational centers of the Muslim

world, for further studies.

By his late thirties, Jami was respected in the vast Muslim lands of the mid-fifteenth century

as one of the most cultured and learned personalities of his time. It is said that in Samarqhand,

while nursing his broken heart after a romantic affair, Jami was visited in a dream by a

luminous figure who advised him thus: “…brother, go find a beloved who cannot abandon

you…”

Taking these words to heart, Jami returned to Herat and began frequenting Sufi places of

gathering. At age forty he was initiated into the brotherhood by the Naqshbandi master of

Khorasan, Saadeddin Kashqari, the luminous visitor in Jami’s dream!

Though he was sought after by many rulers in the Muslim lands of his time, Jami chose a

quiet life in Herat, where he lived until his death on November 9, 1492. (from the introduction This Heavenly Wine)

Jami is known for his achievements as a scholar, mystic, writer, composer, historian, and the

greatest Sufi poet of the 15th century.

-33-

I wish I could know who I am and what my wanderings here are for. If assured of the

Beloved’s approval, I would make merry and sing heartily. If not, I would borrow a thousand

eyes to weep with.

You were always sitting in my eye, and I saw you not. In my chest You were hiding, and I ran

around searching the whole world for You. The whole world was nothing but You, and I saw

You not.

The beauty of Your countenance no palaces can contain, but this ruin of a heart You have

blessed with Your love. Do not deny me the glory of Your face. Because of my earthly

existence I have become the veil between us. Be generous my Beloved, do away with this

veil. This mind is nothing but rust on the mirror of my heart. Be generous O Master, let the

wine You bestow do away with this rust.

I am the one crying tears of blood and offering his soul. The One who causes my tears and

won’t grant me a glance is You. You are the Soul of my soul, why should I fear if my soul is

leaving me for You? How can I complain if this sorrow ravages me and darkens my days?

For my nights filled with the radiance of Your presence are the envy of the brightest of days.

You say seek no other if I want You as my Friend. No one can be privy to this love story,

my wealth of longing and lack of patience are only known to You. Being companionless here

is a great delight if one’s Friend and Companion is You.

How can one behold You once and not cry tears of blood living in separation? Though

separated from You I exist. I am amazed at anyone who sees Your face once and separated

from You still exists.

My heart has gone to that Beloved who can’t be described, the One who granted my heart the

pain and sorrow which can’t be expressed. One who is snared by that glance can’t be helped

by bravery for that gorgeous gazelle is such a fierce lion that can’t be described.

In the land of devotion I built a palace made of contentment. Speaking less, sleeping less, and

eating less are the foundations.

The glory that is the Master’s presence is the alchemy that changes base existence into a

practice for perfection. May Master’s grace be bestowed upon all those whose hearts in truth

yearn for God’s perfection.

Glory to our Master in whose tavern of love the Holy Spirit empties blessings cup after cup.

Our perfect Friend has no one’s name in His book of judgment and crosses out no one’s name

in His book of mercy.

One who harbors no longing for his Origin of human heritage, he has received a form only,

the rest is missing. Life bestows a cure for every pain, but for painlessness no cure can be

found.

-34-

My devotion is to my Master, the Ancient One, whose grace undoes the deeds of the

condemned ones. I offer my head for the wine served in His tavern, the walls of which stand

taller than the heavens. All I can offer Him is this threadbare robe of dust, woe to me if He

should not accept. Whatever our wine-seller does is for our best. Judge Him not before you

fathom His secret. Do not for a moment leave the company of those endowed with Christ’s

breath, for your moments here are counted and they are your true wealth.

Beloved, no fear if You break my heart a thousand times, but do not abandon me in contempt

because of what I have here become, for in this garden every flower has its roots in dirt.

You are destined to fly across worlds, do not soil your royal wings in this mud pit. Trapped in

this body and pulled by its weight, soul from body you can’t tell and your essence you

neglect. You busy yourself looking for happiness in this dust bin and your true home in the

highest skies you can’t imagine. You seek refuge in wealth and glory in steadfast illusion –

what perfect ignorance, what baffling delusion.

If you are a wayfarer on this path, know that reining in your desires is wiser than sitting on

King Solomon’s throne and reigning in his domains. In your heart plant a sapling from the

tree of devotion, nourish it with watchful vigilance, for in time a tree will grow, the fruits of

which will keep you eternally content.

Before the dawn comes be of the early risers. During the day be of the mourners. Cling to the

One who cannot leave you, and from all else wash your hands.

To the wise this place and all in it is worth nothing, joys and sorrows here only enslave you.

Strengthen your will to find release from this prison, for your will is the ladder to help you

across the prison wall. Do not break anyone’s heart here, for that crystal bowl is easy to break

and impossible to mend. Do not do unto others what you wouldn’t like to be done unto you.

Alas, too many are the clever and so this advice is popular with too few.

How can the lover not cry tears of blood when the Beloved is distant, no road is in sight and

the Guide is so hard to find. No matter who the company and what the occasion, heart and

soul abandon the scene and run to You for consolation. Jami needs no musicians or bards for

in his chest’s cavity he hears the Celestial Song of love’s sweet captivity.

Last night my moans set the heavens on fire. Angels fluttered with burnt wings like moths set

aflame. How could sleep touch me in that agony, when my bedding was on fire and my pillow

flooded with tears. The ascetic’s lips are parched and the Sufi’s eyes are flooded, woe to those

caught in this love for it burns both the wet and the dry. Whoever is torched here by this fire

becomes luminous and attracts a hundred others and sets them too on fire.

It is futile to look for your true Friend elsewhere, empty your heart of all and you’ll find him

right there. Cut down on your sleep to bring your Beloved into your dreams, for this great

boon is granted in early dawn to the sleepless dreamer.

-35-

-36-

-37-

One night during prayers a vision of the Beloved appeared to me.

Lifting the veil from His face, He said,

“Take a good look at the one you always leave behind.”

(Awhad al-Din Kirmani)

Sant Kirpal Singh Ji Maharaj

1894-1974

He will live in the hearts of His devotees forever.

Kirpalct@yahoo.com

For more booklets go to: kirpalsingh.org

(Spiritual Quotations for Lovers of God)