Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Musing from Hafiz


Selections from the book "I heard God Laughing" by Hafiz

Manic Screaming
We should make spiritual talk
Simple today:

God is trying to sell you something,
But you don't want to buy.
This is what your suffering is:
Your fantastic haggling,
Your manic screaming over the price.


We Should Talk About This Problem
There is a Beautiful Creature
Living in a hole you have dug.

So at night
I set fruit and grains
And little pots of wine and milk
Beside your soft earthen mounds,

And I often sing.

But still, my dear,
 You do not come out.

I have fallen in love with Someone
Who hides inside you.

We should talk about this problem

Otherwise,
I will never leave you alone.

Tripping Over Joy
What is the difference
Between your experience of Existence
And that of a saint?

The saint knows
That the spiritual path
Is a sublime chess game with God

And that the Beloved
He has just made such a Fantastic Move

That the saint is now continually
Tripping over Joy
And bursting out in Laughter
And saying, "I Surrender!"

Whereas, my dear,
I am afraid you still think

You have a thousand serious moves.

I Am So Glad
Hafiz,
Who can you tell in this world
That when a dog runs up to you
Wagging its ecstatic tail,
You lean down and whisper in its ear,

"Beloved,
I am so glad You are happy to see me.

"Beloved,
I am so glad,
So very glad you have come."

I Took It As A Sign
Someone sent a band to my house,
And it started playing
At five in the morning.

I took this as a sign
That God wanted me to sing!

Then the moon joined in
And a few of the tenor-voiced stars,

And the earth offered its lovely belly
As a drum.

Before I knew it,
I realized
All humans could be this happy

If they just had a few music lessons
From a sweet Old Maestro
Like Hafiz

Beautiful Empty Pages
What kind of work
Can I do in this world?

Who would be kind enough
To hire an old holy Bum,

One with a great reputation
For loving the charms
 Of the lawless
And the wild artist and the lewd?

Maybe I could become a poet.

Maybe the Beloved
Will make my love so Pure

That he will come to sit upon
All my beautiful empty pages.
And when you come to look at them,

He might kick you
With his beautiful Divine Foot.

Strange Miracle 
O wondrous creatures,
By what strange miracle
Do you so often
Not smile?