Hafiz
Born in Shiraz in 1320 (100 years after Rumi and at the same time as Chaucer in England) as Shams-ud-din Muhammed, Hafiz is the most beloved poet of Persia. He came from a poor family and was a bakers-assistant by day while putting himself through school in the evenings. Under the guidance of his teacher Muhammed Attar, he developped not only his poetry, but also his spirituality. In his own words:
Hafiz has become
One of the greatest spies upon God
This world has ever seen.
By the time he was 60, he was know throughout Persia as an amazing poet, speaking of the soul's yearning for love, for companionship, and for that personal relationship with the divine. His words are sometimes playful, sometimes serious. At times he is our guide, our teacher, and other times he is a student or a lover. Always, he speaks to the heart clearly and deeply, and shows us love.
Let's eat
Why
Just show you God's menu?
Hell, we are all
Starving -
Let's
Eat!
A Hunting Party
A
Hunting party
Sometimes has a greater chance
Of flushing love and God
Out into the open
Than a warrior
All
Alone
You're It
God
Disguised
As a myriad things and
Playing a game
Of tag
Has kissed you and said,
"You're it -
I mean, you're Really IT!"
Now
It does not matter
What you believe or feel
For something wonderful,
Magor-league Wonderful,
Is someday going
To
Happen
The Sun Never Says
Even
After
All this time
The sun never says to the earth,
"You owe
Me."
Look
What happens
With a love like that.
It lights the
Whole
Sky.
This One Is Mine
Someone putYou on a slave block
And the unreal bought
You.
Now I keep coming to your owner
Saying,
"This one is mine."
You often overhear us talking
And this can make your heart leap
With excitement.
Don't worry.
I will not let sadness
Possess you.
I will gladly borrow all the gold
I need
To get you
Back.
Someone Untied Your Camel
I cannot sit still with my countrymen in chains.I cannot act mute
Hearing the world's loneliness
Crying near the Beloved's Heart.
My love for God is such
That I could dance with Him tonight without you,
But I would rather have you there.
Is your caravan lost?
It is,
If you no longer weep from gratitude or happiness,
Or weep
From being cut deep with the awareness
Of the extraordinary beauty
That emanates form the most simple act
And common object.
My dear, is your caravan lost?
It is if you can no longer be kind to yourself
And loving to those who must live
With the sometimes difficult task of loving you.
At least come to know
That someone untied your camel last night
For I hear its gentle voice
Calling for God in the desert.
At least come to know
That Hafiz will always hold a lantern
With galaxies blooming inside
And that
I will always guide your soul to
The divine warmth and exhilaration
Of our Beloved's
Tent.
The Gift
Our
Union is like this:
You feel cold
So I reach for a blanket to cover
Our shivering feet.
A hunger comes into your body
So I run to my garden
And start digging potatoes.
You ask for a few words of comfort and guidance,
I quickly kneel at your side offering you
This whole book -
As a gift.
You ache with loneliness one night
So much you weep
And I say,
Here's a rope,
Tie it around me,
Hafiz
Will be your companion
For life.
The Sad Game
Blame
Keeps the sad game going.
It keeps stealing all your wealth -
Giving it to an imbecile with
No financial skills.
Dear one,
Wise
Up.
It Felt Love
How
Did the rose
Ever open its heart
And give to this world
All its
Beauty?
It felt the encouragement of light
Against its
Being.
Otherwise,
We all remain
Too
Frightened.
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