The Candle
O Candle! I am also an afflicted person in the world assembly
Constant complaint is my lot in the manner of the rue
Love gave the warmth of internal pathos to you
It made me the florist selling blood-mixed tears
Whether you be the candle of a celebrating assembly or one at the grave
In every condition associated with the tears of sorrow you remain
Your eye views all with equity like the Secret's Lovers
My eye is the pride of the tumult of discrimination
Your illumination is alike in the Ka'bah and the temple
I am entangled in the temple and the Haram's discrimination
Your black smoke contains the sigh's elegance
Is some heart hidden in the place of your manifestation?
You burn with pathos due to distance from Tajalli's Light
Your pathos the callous ones consider your light
Though you are burning you are unaware of it all
You see but do not encompass the internal pathos
I quiver like mercury with the excitement of vexation
As well I am aware of vexations of the restless heart
This was also the elegance of some Beloved
Which gave me perception of my own pathos
This cognition of mine keeps me restless
Innumerable fire temples are asleep in this spark
Discrimination between high and low is created by this alone!
Fragrance in flower, ecstasy in wine is created by this alone!
Garden, nightingale, flower, fragrance this Cognition is
Root of the struggle of ‘I and you' this Cognition is
At creation's dawn as Beauty became the abode of Love
The sound of "Kun" taught warmth to the spirit of Love
The command came Beauty of Kun's garden to witness
With one eye a thousand dreadful dreams to witness
Do not ask me of the nature of the veil of being
The eve of separation was the dawn of my being
Gone are the days when unaware of imprisonment I was
That my abode the adornment of the tree of Tur was
I am a prisoner but consider the cage to be a garden
This exile's hovel of sorrow I consider the homeland
Memories of the homeland a needless melancholy became
Now the desire for sight, now Longing for search became
O Candle! Look at the excessive illusion of thought
Look at the end of the one worshipped by celestial denizens
Theme of separation I am, the exalted one I am
Design of the Will of the Universe's Lord I am
He desired my display as He designed me
When at the head of Existence' Divan He wrote me
The pearl likes living in a handful of dust
Style may be dull the subject is excellent
Not seeing it rightly is the fault of shortsighted perception
The universe is the show of effulgence of taste for Cognizance
This network of time and space is the scaling ladder of the Universe
It is the necklace of the neck of Eternal BeautyI
have lost the way, Longing for the goal I am
O Candle! Captive of perception's illusion I am
I am the hunter as well as the circle of tyranny's net!
I am the Haram's roof as well as the bird on Haram's roofAm I the Beauty or head to foot the melting love am I?
It is not clear whether the beloved or the Lover am I?
am afraid the old secret may come up to my lips again
Lest story of suffering on the Cross may come up again.
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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Related quotes
Mirza Ghalib
Through you the secret was revealed to the human intellect
That innumerable enigmas are solved by human intellect
You were the complete soul, literary assembly was your body
You adorned as well as remained veiled from the assembly
Your eye is longing to witness that veiled Beauty
Which is veiled in everything as the pathos of life
The assemblage of existence is rich with your harp
As mountain's silence by the brook's melodious harp
The garden of your imagination bestows glory on the universe
From the field of your thought worlds grow like meadows
Life is concealed in the humor of your verse
Picture's lips move with your command of language
Speech is very proud of the elegance of your miraculous lips
Thurayyah is astonished at your style's elegance
Beloved of literature itself loves your style
Delhi's bud is mocking at the rose of Shiraz
Ah! You are resting in the midst of Delhi's ruins
Your counterpart is resting in the Weimar's garden
Matching you in literary elegance is not possible
Till maturity of thought and imagination are combined
Ah! What has befallen the land of India!
Ah! The inspirer of the super-critical eye!
The lock of Urdu's hair still craves for combing
This candle still craves for moth's heart-felt pathos
O Jahanabad! O cradle of learning and art
Your entire super-structure is a silent lament
The sun and the moon are asleep in every speck of your dust
Though innumerable other gems are also hidden in your dust
Does another world-famous person like him also lie buried in you?
Does another gem like him also lie concealed in you?
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The Morning Sun
Far from the ignoble strife of Man's tavern you are
The wine-cup adorning the sky's assemblage you are
The jewel which should be the pearl of the morning's bride's ear you are
The ornament which would be the pride of horizon's forehead you are
The blot of night's ink from time's page has been removed!
The star from sky like a spurious picture has been removed!
When from the roof of the sky your beauty appears
Effect of sleep's wine suddenly from eyes disappears
Perception's expanse gets filled with light
Though opens only the material eye your light
The spectacle which the eyes seek is desired
The effulgence which would open the insight is desired
The desires for freedom were not fulfilled in this life
We remained imprisoned in chains of dependence all life
The high and the low are alike for your eye
I too have longing for such a discerning eye
May my eye shedding tears in sympathy for others' woes be!
May my heart free from the prejudice of nation and customs be!
May my tongue be not bound with discrimination of color
May mankind be my nation, the whole world my country be
May secret of Nature's organization clear to my insight be
May smoke of my imagination's candle rising to the sky be
May search for secrets of opposites not make me restless!
May the Love-creating Beauty in everything appear to me!
If the rose petals get damaged by the breeze
May its pain dropping from my eye as a tear be
May the heart contain that little spark of Love's fire
The light of which may contain the secret of the Truth
May my heart not mine but the Beloved's mirror be!
May no thought in my mind except human sympathy be!
If you cannot endure the hardships of the tumultuous world
O the Great Luminary that is not the mark of greatness!
As you are not aware of your world-decorating beauty
You cannot be equal to a speck of dust at the Man's door!
The light of Man eager for the Spectacle ever remained
And you obligated to the tomorrow's morning ever remained
Longing for the Light of the Truth is only in our hearts
Abode of Lailah of desire for search is only in this litter
Opening of the difficult knot, Oh what a pleasure it is!
The pleasure of universal gain in our endless effort is!
Your bosom is unacquainted with the pain of investigation
You are not familiar with searching of the secrets of Nature
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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Pathos Of Love
O Pathos of Love! You are a glossy pearl
Beware, you should not appear among strangers
The theatre of your display is concealed under the veil
The modern audience' eye accepts only the visible display
New breeze has arrived in the Existence' garden
O Pathos of Love! Now there is no pleasure in display
Beware! You should not be striving for ostentation!
You should not be obligated to the nightingale's lament!
The tulip's wine‐cup should be devoid of wine
The dew's tear should be a mere dropp of water
Your secret should be hidden in the bosom somewhere
Your heart‐melting tear should not be your betrayer
The flowery‐styled poet's tongue should not be talking
Separation's complaint should not be concealed in flute's music
This age is a critic, go and somewhere conceal yourself
In the heart in which you are residing conceal yourself
The learning's surprise is neglecting you, beware!
Your immature eye is not the seeker of Truth, beware
Let the elegant thought remain in search of Truth
Let your wisdom‐loving eye remain in astonishment
This is not the garden whose spring you may be
This is not the audience worthy of your appearance
This audience is the lover of the material sights
The purpose of your sight is the closet of secrecy
Every heart is intoxicated with the wine of thinking
Something different is the Tur of the Kalims of this age
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The Colorful Rose
You are not troubled with solving enigmas
O, beautiful Rose! nor do you have sublime feelings in your heart
Though you ornament the assembly, still you flower apart
In life's assembly I am not permitted such comforts
In my garden I am the complete orchestra of longing
While your life is devoid of love's passionate warmth
To pluck you from the branch is not my custom
I am not blinded by mere appearances
O, colorful rose this hand is not your tormentor
I am no callous flower picker!
I am no intern to analyze you with scientific eyes
Like a lover, I see you with nightingales' eyes
Despite your innumerable tongues, you have chosen silence
What secrets, O Rose, lie concealed in your bosom?
Like me you're a leaf from the garden of Ñër
Far from the garden I am, far from the garden we both are
You are content, but I am a scattered fragrance
Pierced by the sword of love in my quest
This turmoil within me might be a means of fulfillment
This torment, a source of illumination
My frailty might be the beginning of strength
My envy might mirror the cup of divination
My constant vigil is a world-illuminating candle
And teaches this steed, the human intellect, to gallop
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The Interrogatio
The bright sun is hidden, the night shows its face
The night's hair is spread on shoulders of the earth
This black dress is preparation for some one's mourning
Perhaps the Nature's assemblage for the sun is mourning
The sky is casting a spell over the talking lip
The night's magician is watching the awakened eye
The wind current is submerged in the river of silence
However, the tolling bell's sound comes from the distance
Heart which in love's turmoil is evading the world
Has dragged me here far from the maddening crowd
I am the spectator of the spectacle of disappointments
I am the associate of those sleeping in solitude's corner
O My restlessness! Wait and let me rest awhile
And let me shed a few tears at this habitation
O those steeped in a swoon, 'Where are you?
Tell me something of the land where you live
Is that world also one of prevarication?
Is that world also one of denizens' struggle?
Is Man engulfed by sorrow in that land also?
Is Man's heart suppressed and helpless in that land also?
Does the moth burn itself in candle's love in that land also?
Does the tale of flower and nightingale exist in that garden also?
In this world a single hemistich perturbs the heart
Does there also the warmth of verse soften the heart?
This world's relations and alliances life's woes are
Are similar sharp thorns present in that garden also?
The daily bread and a million calamities this world has
Does the soul freedom from anxieties in that world has?
Are the thunder, the farmer, the harvest there also?
Are the caravan and the robber's fear there also?
Do birds collect bits of straw for nests there also?
Is the search for bricks and clay for house there also?
Are the humans unaware of their reality there also? 1
Are they after nations' and customs' discrimination there also
Does garden not cry at the nightingale's wail there also?
Like this world is there no sympathy in that world also?
Does the Paradise a garden or a restful mansion constitute?
Or does the Eternal Beauty's Unveiled Face it constitute? 2
Does hell a method of burning away sins constitute?
Or it in flames of fire a way of discipline constitute?
Has walking given way to speedy flying in that world?
What is the secret of what is called death by denizens of this world?
Life eases the heart's restlessness in this world
Is human knowledge also restricted in that world?
Does the separated heart get satisfaction by sight there also?
Are 'Lan Tar
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The Candle and The Moth
O Candle! Why does the moth love you?
Why is this restless soul devoted to you?
Your charm keeps it restless like mercury
Did you teach it the etiquette of Love?
It circumambulates the site of your manifestation
Is it inspired with the fire of your lightning?
Do the woes of death give it the peace of life?
Does your flame possess the quality of eternal life?
If you do not brighten this sorrowful world
This burning heart's tree of Longing may not green up
Falling before you is the prayer of this little heart
The taste for impassioned Love knows this little heart
It has some zeal of the Primeval Beauty's Lover
You are a small ñër, it is a small Kalam
The moth and the taste for the Sight of the Light!
This small insect and the Longing for the Light!
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The One I Was Searching For On the Earth and in Heaven
The one I was searching for on the earth and in heaven
Appeared residing in the recesses of my own heart
When the reality of the self became evident to my eyes
The house appeared among residents of my own heart
If it were somewhat familiar with taste of rubbing foreheads
The stone of Ka’ba’s threshold would have joined the foreheads
O Majnun! Have you ever glanced at yourself
That like Layla you are also sitting in the litter
The months of the union continue flying like moments
But the moments of separation linger for months!
O seaman, how will you protect me from being drowned
As those destined to drowning get drowned in the boats also
The one who concealed His Beauty from Kalim Allah
The same Beloved is manifest among beloveds
The breath of Lovers can light up the extinguished candle
O God! What is kept concealed in the breast of the Lovers?
Serve the fakirs if you have the longing for Love
This pearl is not available in the treasures of kings
Do not ask of these Devotees, if you have faith, you should look at them
They have the illuminated palm up their sleeves
The insightful eye for whose spectacle is tantalized
That elegance of congregation is in these very recluses
Burn the produce of your heart with some such spark
That the Last Day’s sun may also be among your gleaners
For Love search for some heart which would become mortified
This is the wine which is not kept in delicate wine glasses
The Beauty itself becomes the Lover of whose Beauty
O Heart! Does someone among the beautiful has that beauty?
Someone became highly excited at your grace of Ma’arafna
Your rank remained among the most elegant of all the Lovers
Manifest Thyself and show them Thy Beauty some time
Talks have continued among the sagacious since long time
Silent, O Heart! Crying in the full assembly is not good
Decorum is the most important etiquette among the ways of Love
It is not possible for me to deem my critics bad
Because Iqbal, I am myself among my critics
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The candle and the fly
A woman in love is a candle;
Her love and the candle’s flame are to burn.
Her pining is the candle’s burning.
They pine and burn and exhaust themselves.
A man in love is like a fly;
Both are in flight towards their targets
Of love and flame, to which they succumb
By one longing and the other by falling.
The candle is burnt; so is the beloved.
The fly is burnt; so is the lover.
No doubt, the end for them is mere ash
But their pursuits gave them enough push.
27.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Take Me To That Place
Oh take me to that place where the sun never sets
and the warmth of your smile mind never forgets.
Where the light from your eyes kindles a secret fire in my soul
as the love hidden there begins to reach out towards life's goal
and how much one does appreciate of your grace and pleasure
when knowing as I do that you hold the key to love's treasure.
Oh take me to that place where the sun does always shine
and the fragrance of your love intoxicates like good wine.
Where the bliss of your presence removes all sorrow from the heart
as tears of joy well up from within acknowledging we're never apart
and the words that you do speak are heard and lodged within the mind
when it is thinking of you only wondering why and how you're so kind.
Oh take me to that place where no darkness ever comes
and the glory of your being illuminates like a million suns.
Where everything is perceived being perfect because it really is
as the hidden beauty in all of nature is thus revealed to be of this
and the atmosphere around you is so peaceful everywhere
when the working mind has gone no troubles remain there.
Oh take me to that place where there is always light
and the stars seen in that sky are so invisibly bright.
Where all division into form does not exist or is known
as the illusion of separation like a mist away has blown
and the unity of all life is the permanent true vision of the eyes
when seeing the all pervading Spirit there can be no compromise.
Oh take me to that place where the source of elusive light is in being
and the days of the past, present or future only in ignorance are seen.
Where there is no birth or death and shadows never actually fall
as they do in duality which is false and hiding Reality behind it all
and the essence of Your being is the only underlying eternal existence
when living in accordance with Thy will all is a harmonious subsistence.
Oh take me to that place which is the abode of peace within
and a kingdom of the soul about which all true religions sing.
Where one comes face to face with God and experiences ecstasy
as there isn't any greater happiness that can overcome all misery
and the meaning of all life is known after achieving that goal
when realising the divine nature of which an image is our soul.
Oh take me to that place where we belong or should all really be
and the feeling of oneness with all creatures is just right for me.
Where there is no beginning or ending in the everlasting now
as the world of name and form exists only in illusion somehow
and all that we could ever hope to get we have already secretly got
when experiencing our true infinite nature all the universe is our lot.
Oh take me to that place to which the mind without light cannot go
and it's only by intuition that what's beyond the mind one can know.
Where infinite love, bliss, power and wisdom are always residing
as ever ripe fruit on a tree hang for those people who're desiring
and whom by Thy grace and blessing have dissolved all their ignorance
when doing what You tell them to do implicitly trusting their obedience.
Oh take me to that place which is free from all worry and fear
and the light of knowledge shines in the mind bright and clear.
Where there is no lust, greed or anger and neither any hunger nor pain
as these are all to do with the lower self which has passed away in vain
and actions performed aren't binding being for the ultimate good of all
when having supreme faith in oneself and God the ideal is had for sure.
Oh take me to that place which is at the end of the long weary road
and life's being is Light Effulgent without any dark or unknown load.
Where whatever is in Reality is what one really forever will be
as an Eternal consciousness in which nothing but Itself can see
and in which everything evolves and dissolves in its own time and space
when existing as One without a second does there can't be another place.
------------------------
poem by George Krokos
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On Going To Mumbai
Parting is the destiny of every rose,
The garden is sad when it goes,
Both are helpless and pain grows,
But, fragrance yet it having pathos,
I'm here but my heart remains there,
And take me too lives my heart where.
I'm restless when remember the sight,
My mother departed me with wet eyes,
Placed her hands on my head hiding her eyes,
Containing herself she tried at full her might,
My sisters too put their hands on my head,
My heart weighty, I stumbled moving ahead.
My lovely friends who're dear to me,
Came and surrounded me with affection,
My heart restless like waves in the sea,
And eyes were wet like froth's collection,
They can't be parted like the sun from its beams,
I would often meet them in my dreams.
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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Candle in the Wind
Candle in the Wind
entrancing, entrancing
the way you flicker and flicker
holding on so tenuously
tenaciously to the light of life
to stage a shadow dance
you tiptoe your way so
effortlessly and subtly onto
my heart, my soul, evoking
memories of last autumn
you stepped out of my life,
so sudden, so abrupt, the leaves
strained to hold a a million of your smiles
gliding, trailing, twirling in the winds
your memories now flicker
flicker like the bristles of an artist's brush
that infuses a pastiche of warm
and rueful pathos onto our
fleeting and fluctuating relationships
candle in the wind
I feel like a candle in the wind
holding onto its light
fighting to keep myself alighted,
to make my own existence relevant
candle in the wind
I feel like a candle in the wind
holding onto light
fighting to keep my own
existence relevant
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Painful Wail
Consumed with grief I am, I get relief in no way
O circumambient waters of the Ganges drown me
Our land foments excessive mutual enmity
What unity! Our closeness harbors separation
Enmity instead of sincerity is outrageous
Enmity among the same barn's grains is outrageous
If the brotherly breeze has not entered in a garden
No pleasure can be derived from songs in that garden
Though I exceedingly love the real closeness
I am upset by the mixing of waves and the shore
The miraculous poet is like the grain from the barn
The grain has no existence if there is no barn
How can beauty unveil itself if no one is anxious for sight
Lighting of the candle is meaningless if there is no assembly
Why does the taste for speech not change to silence
Why does this brilliance not appear out from my mirror
Alas! My tongue poured its speech down
When war's fire had burnt the garden down
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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The Cloud On The Mountain
Elevation bestows the sky's nearness to my abode
I am the mountain's cloud, my skirt sprinkles roses
Now the wilderness, now the rose garden is my abode
City and wilderness are mine, ocean is mine, forest is mine
If I want to return to some valley for the night
The mountain's verdure is my carpet of velvet
Nature has taught me to be a pearl spreader
To chant the camel song for the camel of the Beloved of Mercy
To be the comforter of the dispirited farmer's heart
To be the elegance of the assembly of the garden's trees
I spread out over the face of the earth like the locks
I get arranged and adorned by the breeze's
I tantalize the expecting eye from a distance
As I pass silently over some habitation
As I approach strolling towards a brook's bank
I endow the brook with ear rings of whirlpools
I am the hope of the freshly grown field's verdure
I am the ocean's offspring, I am nourished by the sun
I gave ocean's tumult to the mountain spring
I charmed the birds into thrilling chants
I pronounced 'Rise' standing by the verdure's head
I conferred the taste for smile to the rose-bud
By my benevolence farmers' huts on the mountain side
Are converted into bed chambers of the opulent.
poem by Allama Muhammad Iqbal
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Old Flames Cant Hold A Candle To You
Downtown tonight, I saw an old friend, someone who
I use to take comfort from long before I met you
I caught a spark from his eyes of forgotten desire
With a word, or a touch, I could have rekindled that fire
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
No one can light up the night like you do
Flickering embers of love
Ive known one or two
But old flames cant hold a candle to you
Sometimes at night, I think of old lovers Ive known
I remember how holding them helped me not feel so alone
Then I feel you beside me and even their memories are gone
Like stars in the night lost in the sweet light of dawn
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
No one can light up the night like you do
Flickering embers of love
Ive known one or two
But old flames cant hold a candle to you
Old flames cant hold a candle to you
Mmmm...
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Pains In Spring
My pains have four seasons
A spring, an autumn, a winter and a summer.
My spring triumphs over the rest.
In the spring of my pains
I am surrounded by smiles of sweet pathos within
And in my garden the blossoming pains flutter in the morning.
In the autumn of my pains
I am preceded by the hills of hopes mounted
And in my groves the pale pathos shed tears in the noon.
In the winter of my pains
I am hidden by the mist of dejected aims
And on my snow hills the sliding glaciers ensure a fall in the evening.
In the summer of pains
I am blasted by the heat waves of scattered dreams
And on my anvil of my poetry new lines are made.
I like my spring of pains
For I too have a human heart
And my garden of dreams will ever be there.....
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Lite It Up
Lite it up
Lite it up
Lite it up and let that candle burn.
The fire is inside me.
Forever part of me.
Call it destiny.
Call it fate.
A fickle swing of a pendulum.
A motion set.
A writing in the stone.
I'm not alone for I have you.
So just lite it up
Lite it up
Lite it and let that candle burn.
Down to the very last.
It was always part of my past.
It sanction me to the starvation of the mind and soul.
I just lost control.
I faced it head on.
And thats when I met you.
So just lite it up
Lite it up
Lite it and let that candle burn.
It will never die.
Nor will my scarred heart.
Memories washed apart.
No longer do I doubt who I am.
As your man I take a stand.
For I must protect the love just met for you oh you.
So just lite it up
Lite it up
Lite it and let that candle burn.
One last time.
Digging into my own mind.
Finding every travesty.
Destroying the illusion of a fictitious fantasy.
Oh baby, oh baby this is for you
So just lite it up
Lite it up
Lite it and let that candle burn.
The body moves
The friction ceases.
Its a set of multiple releases.
Everything that soothes.
All for you.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Flower and Bird
Amongst the lonely branches of a tree,
Stood a lovely flower fragrant and free,
She was the sight of every passer-by,
'What a beautiful flower! ' people would cry.
The flower in the prime of its youth,
Couldn’t identify life and its real truth,
Proud by its fragrance and beauty it stood,
And thought that beauty was what made it good,
Impressed by its beauty a little bird would sing,
The tale of its love and the whole valley would ring,
Perched on the branch of the great oak tree,
The bird sings its love for the flower to see,
People would stop and look at this tale,
Of the beautiful lady and the gallant male.
And one day the bird let its heart out,
And the beautiful flower refused with pout,
The bird wanting its beloved’s heart,
Asked her, 'What do I do so that we don’t part? '
And the proud flower told the lonely bird,
'There is a flower down the valley, have you heard?
Its brilliant red, is said is more beautiful than me,
So dear bird, make me red, as red as I can be! '
The bird said, 'But your beauty is no match,
So beautiful are you that my heart, you did catch! '
The flower in its pride and anger,
Told the bird 'Oh! Don’t bother',
The sadness in its eyes, the bird couldn’t see,
And said, 'I gift the colour red to thee! '
Saying this he pierced his heart on a thorn,
And spilt the blood on her till he was torn,
And the flower indeed did become red,
With the love of the little bird’s blood,
People would stare at the beautiful flower,
And amongst the branches it would hover,
The people passing soon forgot the song of the bird,
But the silent lament of the flower was never heard,
The flower never forgot the love of its bird,
But the melody of the poor bird was never heard!
poem by Supriya Mothay
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Pathos Of Your Song
the pathos of your vocals
expresses the essence
of the best poems
i wrote and long to write
on your lap and like an angel
i would sit to fill my heart
with your magical songs
but you are at the
other side of my world
now i am lost - in the
pathos of your vocals
i wonder you would pander
to my poems if you read them
verses that could very well
have sprung from your heart
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The garden scatters burnt-up beetles...
The garden scatters burnt-up beetles
Like brazen ash, from braziers burst.
I witness, by my lighted candle,
A newly blossomed universe.
And like a not yet known religion
I enter this unheard of night,
In which the shabbily-grey poplar
Has curtained off the lunar light.
The pond is a presented secret.
Oh, whispers of the appletree!
The garden hangs-a pile construction,
And holds the sky in front of me.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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A Lover's Call XXVII
Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little
Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you
As infants look upon the breast of their mothers?
Or are you in your chamber where the shrine of
Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon
Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice?
Or amongst the books, seeking human knowledge,
While you are replete with heavenly wisdom?
Oh companion of my soul, where are you? Are you
Praying in the temple? Or calling Nature in the
Field, haven of your dreams?
Are you in the huts of the poor, consoling the
Broken-hearted with the sweetness of your soul, and
Filling their hands with your bounty?
You are God's spirit everywhere;
You are stronger than the ages.
Do you have memory of the day we met, when the halo of
You spirit surrounded us, and the Angels of Love
Floated about, singing the praise of the soul's deed?
Do you recollect our sitting in the shade of the
Branches, sheltering ourselves from Humanity, as the ribs
Protect the divine secret of the heart from injury?
Remember you the trails and forest we walked, with hands
Joined, and our heads leaning against each other, as if
We were hiding ourselves within ourselves?
Recall you the hour I bade you farewell,
And the Maritime kiss you placed on my lips?
That kiss taught me that joining of lips in Love
Reveals heavenly secrets which the tongue cannot utter!
That kiss was introduction to a great sigh,
Like the Almighty's breath that turned earth into man.
That sigh led my way into the spiritual world,
Announcing the glory of my soul; and there
It shall perpetuate until again we meet.
I remember when you kissed me and kissed me,
With tears coursing your cheeks, and you said,
"Earthly bodies must often separate for earthly purpose,
And must live apart impelled by worldly intent.
"But the spirit remains joined safely in the hands of
Love, until death arrives and takes joined souls to God.
"Go, my beloved; Love has chosen you her delegate;
Over her, for she is Beauty who offers to her follower
The cup of the sweetness of life.
As for my own empty arms, your love shall remain my
Comforting groom; you memory, my Eternal wedding."
Where are you now, my other self? Are you awake in
The silence of the night? Let the clean breeze convey
To you my heart's every beat and affection.
Are you fondling my face in your memory? That image
Is no longer my own, for Sorrow has dropped his
Shadow on my happy countenance of the past.
Sobs have withered my eyes which reflected your beauty
And dried my lips which you sweetened with kisses.
Where are you, my beloved? Do you hear my weeping
From beyond the ocean? Do you understand my need?
Do you know the greatness of my patience?
Is there any spirit in the air capable of conveying
To you the breath of this dying youth? Is there any
Secret communication between angels that will carry to
You my complaint?
Where are you, my beautiful star? The obscurity of life
Has cast me upon its bosom; sorrow has conquered me.
Sail your smile into the air; it will reach and enliven me!
Breathe your fragrance into the air; it will sustain me!
Where are you, me beloved?
Oh, how great is Love!
And how little am I!
poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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