I'm reading a book of (mostly) love poems, called The Gift, by the great Sufi mystic Hafiz, from the 14th century. His poetry is really beautiful and the translation I'm reading makes it very easy and modern, which I have no problem with. A lot of the poems are these amazing odes to the spiritual nature of Love, and are just very pleasureable to read. Often he easily moves from that sort of serious and profound depiction of the divine to a really light, humorous, and witty line. Or sometimes an entire poem is really whimisical, like this one:
Everything is clapping today, Light,
Sound,
Motion,
All movement.A rabbit I pass pulls a cymbal
From a hidden pocket
Then winks.This causes a few planets and I
To go nuts
And start grabbing each other.Someone sees this,
Calls a
Shrink,Tries to get me
Committed
for
Being too
Happy.Listen: this world is the lunatic's sphere,
Don't always agree it's real,Even with my feet upon it
And the postman knowing my doorMy address is somewhere else.
Here's a fragment from one that's more on the serious/beautiful side:
We are like two cups of water
That God poured in a vase.
I am one with you beyond
Recognition.
Of course I should mention that that kind of love is pretty rare. It hasn't happened to me in many years. I just realized that it happened at all, reading my old journals last week. Reading those I understood, that more recent interactions were almost meaningless in comparison.
Posted by steev at Diciembre 28, 2006 08:15 AM