Intimate Discourses -Ibn Ata'illah as-Sakandari RA

My Allah, I am poor in my richness, so why should I not be poor in my poverty?

My Allah, I am ignorant in my knowledge, so why should I not be most ignorant in my ignorance?

My Allah, the diversity of Your planning (tadbeer) and the speed of Your predestined decrees prevent Your servants, the gnostics, from relying on gifts or despairing of you during trials.

My Allah, from me comes what is in keeping with my miserliness, and from You comes what is in keeping with Your generosity.

My Allah, You have attributed to Yourself gentleness and kindness towards me before the existence of my weakness; so, would You then hold them back from me after the existence of my weakness?

My Allah, if the virtues (al-mahaasin) arise from me, that is because of Your grace: it is Your right to bless me. And if vices (al-masaawee) arise from me, that is because of Your justice: it is Your right to have proof against me.

My Allah, how can You leave me to Myself, for You are responsible for me? And how could I be harmed while You are my Ally? Or how could I be disappointed in You, my Welcomer? Here am I seeking to gain access to You by means of my need of You. How could I seek to gain access to You by means of what cannot possibly reach you? Or how can I complain to You of my state for it is not hidden from You? Or how can I express myself to You in my speech, since it comes from You and goes forth to you? Or how can my hopes be dashed, for they have already reached You? Or how can my states not be good, for they are based on You and go to You?

My Allah, how gentle You are with me in spite of my great ignorance, and how merciful You are with me in spite of my ugly deeds!

My Allah, how near You are to me, and how far I am to You!

My Allah, how kind You are to me! So what is it that veils me from You?

My Allah, from the diversity of created things and the changes of states, I know that it is Your desire to make Yourself known to me in everything so that I will not ignore You in anything.

My Allah, whenever my miserliness makes me dumb, Your generosity makes me articulate, and whenever my attributes make me despair, You grace gives me hope.

My Allah, if someone’s virtues are vices, then why cannot his vices be vices? And if someone’s inner realities are pretensions, then why cannot his pretensions be pretensions?

My Allah, Your penetrating decision and Your conquering will have left no speech to the articulate nor any state to him who has a state.

My Allah, how often has Your justice destroyed the dependence I build up on obedience or the state I erected! Yet, it was Your grace that freed me of them.

My Allah, You know that, even though obedience has not remained a resolute action on my part, it has remained as a love and firm aspiration.

My Allah, how can I resolve while You are the Omnipotent (al-Qaahir), or how can I not resolve while You are the Commander (al-Aamir)?

My Allah, my wavering amongst created things inevitably makes the Sanctuary distant, so unite me to You by means of a service that leads me to You.

My Allah, how can one argue inferentially of You by that which depends on You for its existence? Does anything other than You manifest what You do not have, so that it becomes the manifester (al-muzhir) for You? When did You become so absent that You are in need of a proof giving evidence of You? And when did You become so distant that it is created things themselves that leads us to You?

My Allah, blind is the eye that does not see You watching (raqeeb) over it, and vain is the handclasp of a servant who has not been given a share of Your love.

My Allah, You have commanded me to return to created things, so return me to them with the raiment of lights and the guidance of inner vision (al-istibsaar), so that I may return from them to You just as I entered You from them, with my innermost being (as-sirr) protected from looking at them and my fervor (al-himma) raised above dependence on them. For, truly, You have power over everything.

My Allah, here is my lowliness manifest before You, and here is my state unhidden from You. From You, I seek union with You. I proceed from You in my argumentation about You. So guide me to You with Your light and set me up before You through sincerity of servanthood.

My Allah, make me known by means of Your treassured-up knowledge, and protect me by means of the mysteries of Your well guarded Name.

My Allah, make me realize the inner realities of those drawn nigh, and make me voyage in the path of those possessed by attraction (ahlal jadhb).

May Allah, through You direction (tadbeer) make me dispense with self-direction, and through Your choosing (ikhtiyaar) for me make me dispense with my choosing; and make me stand in the very center of my extreme need (idtiraar)

My Allah, pull me out of my self-abasement and purify me of doubting (shakk) and associationism (shirk) before I descend into my grave. I seek Your help, so help me; in You I trust, so entrust me to no one else; You do I ask, so do not disappoint me; Your kindness do I desire, do not refuse me; it is to You that I belong, so do not banish me; and it is at Your door that I stand, so do not cast me away.

My Allah, Your contentment is too holy for there to be a cause for it in You, so how can there be a cause for it in me? Through Your Essence (dhaat), you are independent of any benefit coming to you, so why should You not be independent of me?

My Allah, destiny and the decree of fate have overcome me, and desire with its passional attachments has taken me prisoner. Be my Ally so that You may help me and others through me. Enrich me with Your kindness, so that, content with You, I can do without asking. You are the one who makes the lights shine in the hearts of Your saints so that they know You and affirm Your Oneness. You are the one who makes alterities (al-aghyaar) disappear from the hearts of Your lovers so that they love none but You and take refuge in none but You. You are the one who befriends them when the world makes them forlorn. You are the one who guides them till the landmarks become clear for them He who has lost You – what has he found? He who has found You – what has he lost? Whoever takes someone other than You as a substitute is disappointed, and whoever wants to stray away from You is lost.

My Allah, how could hope be put in what is other than You, for You have not cut off Your benevolence? And how could some one other than You be asked, for You have not changed the norms for conferring blessings. O He who makes His beloved friends taste the sweetness of intimacy with Himself so that they stand before Him with praise, and O He who clothes His saints with the vestments of reverential fear towards Himself so that they stand glorifying His glory – You are the Invoker (adh-dhaakir) prior to invokers, You are the Origin (al-Baadi) of benevolence prior to servants turning to You, You are Munificent ( al-Jawwaad) in giving prior to the asking of seekers, and You are the Giver (al-Wahhaab) who, in respect to what You have given us, asks us for loans!

My Allah, seek me with Your grace so that I may reach You, and attract me with Your blessings so that I may draw near to You.

My Allah, my hope is not cut off from you even though I disobey You, just as my fear does not leave me even though I obey you.

My Allah, the world has pushed me towards You, and my knowledge of Your generosity has made me stand before You.

My Allah, how could I be disappointed while You are my hope, or how could I be betrayed while my trust is in You.

My Allah, how can I deem myself exalted while You have planted me in lowliness, or why should I not deem myself exalted, for You have related me to Yourself? Why should I not be in need of You, for You have set me up in poverty, or why should I be needy, for You have enriched me with Your goodness? Apart from You there is none worthy of worship. You have made Yourself known to everything, so nothing is ignorant of You. And it is You who have made Yourself known to me in everything; thus, I have seen You manifest in everything, and You are the manifest to everything. O He who betakes Himself to His throne (‘arsh) with His clemency (rahmaaniyya), so that the throne is hidden in His clemency, just as the Universe (al-‘awaalim) is hidden in His throne – You have annihilated created things (bil aathaar), and obliterated alterities (al-aghyaar) with the englobing spheres of light (bi-muheetaat aflaak al-anwaar)! O He who, in His pavilions of glory, is veiled fro the reach of sight, O He who illumines with the perfection of His beauty (bahaa’) and whose Infinity (‘azama) is realized by gnostics’ innermost being (al-asraar)-how can You be hidden, for You are the Exterior (adh-dhaahhir)? Or how can You be absent, for You are the Ever-Present Watcher (ar-Raqeeb al-Haadir)?

Allah is the Granter of success (al-Muwaffiq), and in Him I take refuge!

Rumi

Rest your cheek, for a moment,on this drunken cheek.

Let me forget the war and cruelty inside myself.

I hold these silver coins in my hand;

give me Your wine of golden light.

You have opened the seven doors of heaven;

now lay Your hand generously on my tightened heart.

All I have to offer is this illusion, my self.

Give it a nickname at least that is real.

Only you can restore what You have broken;

help my broken head.

Im not asking for some sweet pistachio candy,

but Your everlasting love.

Fifty times Ive said,

“Heart, stop hunting and step into this net.”

Allama Mohammad Iqbal

To this poor man of town pay special heed,

Who craves great ferments for thy bosom’s feed.
My woeful tone thus, a great wealth to soul,

A woeful heart’s wealth, not a common dole.
I have a right grievance on world’s taste blind,

Who took my love’s labour of Farhad’s kind.
On stone the axe sound, totally apart!

Listen! that was sound of axe and the heart!

Ahmad Shamlou

The Journey

For God’s sake respond,
Where is contrived my shrine?
Guide me to the waterways to glide,
Lead me sailing the hostile waves of the seven seas
To its gates!

***
At the first supper of the journey
We passed through a spinning strait
It looked like a glassy green farm.

And when the night went slow
As-if foiled within friction of marine stones
with the moonlight,
We reached into a dead sea.

It surely was a sea
And surely dead for a long while
For its falling frail sky
was a grey roof over the timeless stillness of winds,
waves and its moist rays of light
with no sign of the breathing of the stars.

The sun in that land,
was swinging in the vastness of sphere
ceaselessly wandering around a fearful doubt
a fearful doubt: to rise or to fall.

***

In a hopeless labour
breathing the putrid air of the dead sea,
sweating under the hits of a wavering sun
we were shovelling the ashes of the sea
and the dust of the forsaken corpses
that it within held.

We were shovelling the ashes of the sea
And the dust its forsaken corpses
With their dreadful open eyes
yet brightened with an uncanny sign of fury
and the spears stained with spots of blackened blood
all the remains of the Great Deluge,
the strike of the Lightening of Demise.

***

Yet again
It was the straits and the seas,
And again other straits and other seas…

***

Then we reached to the boiling waters of a sea
With its strong storms and fierce sharks
Its waves were the tangle of molten rocks and steam
a volcano determined to trap the moon,
to trap the moon.

“-But
the seas are meant to charge the clouds
with the shower of life
revolting in the steam and storm
is their rightful deed.
Indeed,
if love was not to be
none had dared such a journey!”

It is what you whispered
With a voice like a sacred refrain of a heavenly song
Filled with the sweet scent of flowers.

And since the start of the journey
were these words of yours our only naval hymn.

And why deny
Your words touched my heart
That was why
I was reciting it
over
and over
again…

Could it be that in hands of a tormenting sea
Could it be that under sway of molten rocks
Could it be that within dried floating corpse
Your words were the sole song, the sole light
the sole means?

May I dare say the truth that they were.

And you, and your words
Surely sailed our tormented boat through the torments of sail.

And our boat
With its fluid weight
And its sails’ trembling heights,
as-if yielding to the pride of winds,
was just like a frightened somnambulist
marching in a burning fever.
.

***

And when a few days of cruise
in the absence of light faded away
we reached to another sea
a bright blue sea.

The sea was like a sacred grail
full with the tears of longing, yearning and love
full with tears of you and me.

***

And my shrine,
now I know,
is somewhere in this sea,
but in which isle, which isle
the agile captain of my boat?

Shall I convey a dove
a white dove for the quest of the land?

Or shall I try another way?

For this sea
Feels like the truth, the naked truth,
spread from the deeps up to the moon
and from the silver shine of the fish
to the deep blues of the sky.

***

In that remote vastness
We landed on a lone sight of an isle
where none has ever been.

You said:
“And the end of the journey,
the ordeal led to the destination of delight!”

I kneeled,
I kneeled down to taste
The moist soil of the long awaited isle.

***

For God’s sake respond,
Where is contrived my shrine?
In which sea? In which isle?

For God’s sake respond,
Where will be that soil to kneel down?
Where will be that soil to plant the seeds of this new faith?

Now I know,
Afar from these ruins, these tormenting seas
and these loaded clouds with the sad memory of storms,
But where?

If you know the place,
Then with your loving hands
Burry me there
underneath a tree.

Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai RA

Keep marching in heat or cold,

There is no time for rest:

Lest darkness should set in,

And you lose the Beloved's track

Abu-Said Abil-Kheir

Beloved, show me the way out of this prison.

Make me needless of both worlds.

Pray, erase from 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.

Hazrat Shah Niaz

Mujhe bekhudi ye tune bhali chashni chakhayi

Kisi aarzoo ki dil mein nahi ab rahi samayi

Na hazar hai na khatar hai, na raja hai ne dua hai

Na khayaal e bandagi hai na tamana e khudai

Na muqqam e guftagu hai na mahhall e justaju hai

Na wahan havaas pahunche na khirad ko hai rasai

Na makin hai ne makan hai na zameen hai ne zaman hai

Dil e be nava ne mere jahan chhavni hai chayi

Na visaal hai na hijraan na suroor hai na gham hai

Jise kahiye khwab e ghaflat so woh neend mujh ko aayi

O surrender in love,You have given me a taste that pales all worldliness

No desire remains In the heart filled with submission

Neither distance nor fear…neither hope nor prayer

neither thoughts of subjugation nor desire of godliness

No place for exchange of words…no occasion for further quest

Where neither consciousness reaches nor thoughts transcend its realm

No one resides..Neither habitation exist…

Is where this wandering heart has come to camp

Where there is no union… No separation no sorrow… no joy

What is said to be an endless oblivion I enter such a slumber

Rumi

I don’t get tired of You.

Don’t grow weary of being compassionate toward me!
All this thirst-equipment

must surely be tired of me,

the waterjar, the water-carrier.
I have a thirsty fish in me

that can never find enough of what it’s thirsty for!
Show me the way to the Ocean!

Break these half measures,these small containers.
All this fantasy and grief.
Let my house be drowned in the wave

that rose last night out of the courtyard

hidden in the center of my chest.
Joseph fell like the moon into my well.

The harvest I expected was washed away

But no matter.
A fire has risen above my tombstone hat.

I don’t want learning, or dignity,or respectability.
I want this music and this dawn

and the warmth of your cheek against mine.
The grief-armies assemble,

but I’m not going with them.
This is how it always is

when I finish a poem.
A Great Silence overcomes me,

and I wonder why I ever thought

to use language.

Rumi

O love, O pure deep love,

be here, be now

Be all;

worlds dissolve into your stainless endless radiance,

Frail living leaves burn with you brighter than cold stars:

Make me your servant,

your breath,

your core.

Fakhruddin Iraqi

I want Union with Him

He wants separation from me -

-so I abandon my desire to His.

* * *

All the Beloved does

is lovable.

So what can the poor lover do?

What can he say except,

Searching for separation

yearning for Union

I am free of both:

Thy love suffices.

Abu-Said Abil-Kheir

Though burning has become an old habit for this heart,

I dare not think of Your company.

What would a moth mean

to the fire that burns worlds?

Rumi

I have lost my mind for love because there is no strength in my heart

that has lost its hand and feet to resist His love.

Day and night I keep on chewing on one end of the chain of love that ties me.
I am covered in blood all over my body.
I am afraid if the vision of the Beloved comes,

I might spill the blood of my heart over Him.
Ask the fairies of the night of this lover who burns

with the fire of love and cries and weeps.
When I come and go in the darkness, my feet touch fairies.
My heart, which is shattered in pieces,

is traveling all night by burning like a star.
By the spell of the unfair and cruel Beloved all my sleep has gone.
0 my Beloved, let me wear a dress of fire like the sun

and with that fire let me beautify and enlighten the world like the sun.
My love is a moment of Your love.
Even if I escape and rest, my spirit never relaxes and rests.
I attain peace and comfort that very moment when I do not separate from Your love,

I never rest but continuously burn and be burned.

Everybody went to sleep.

I, the lover who gave away his heart, did not sleep.

All night my eyes are counting stars in the sky

Your love drew sleep away from my eyes such that it never returns.

My sleep has drunk the poison of Your separation and died. "

Idries Shah

When the great Sufi mystic, Hasan, was dying, somebody asked "Hasan, who was your master?" He said, "I had thousands of masters. If I just relate their names it will take months, years and it is too late. But three masters I will certainly tell you about. One was a thief. Once I got lost in the desert, and when I reached a village it was very late, everything was closed. But at last I found one man who was trying to make a hole in the wall of a house. I asked him where I could stay and he said 'At this time of night it will be difficult, but you can stay with me - if you can stay with a thief' ...And each night he would say to me, 'Now I am going to my work. You rest, you pray.' When he came back I would ask 'Could you get anything?' He would say, 'Not tonight. But tomorrow I will try again, God willing.' He was never in a state of hopelessness, he was always happy. When I was meditating and meditating for years on end and nothing was happening, many times the moment came when I was so desperate, so hopeless, that I thought to stop all this nonsense. And suddenly I would remember the thief who would say every night, 'God willing, tomorrow it is going to happen.'
And my second master was a dog. I was going to the river, thirsty and a dog came. He was also thirsty. He looked into the river, he saw another dog there -- his own image -- and became afraid. He would bark and run away, but his thirst was so much that he would come back. Finally, despite his fear, he just jumped into the water, and the image disappeared. And I knew that a message had come to me from God: one has to jump in spite of all fears.
And the third master was a small child. I entered a town and a child was carrying a lit candle. He was going to the mosque to put the candle there.
Just joking, I asked the boy, 'Have you lit the candle yourself?' He said, 'Yes sir.' And I asked, 'There was a moment when the candle was unlit, then there was a moment when the candle was lit. Can you show me the source from which the light came?'
And the boy laughed, blew out the candle, and said, 'Now you have seen the light going. Where has it gone? You will tell me!'
My ego was shattered, my whole knowledge was shattered. And that moment I felt my own stupidity. Since then I dropped all my knowledgeability.
It is true that I had no master. That does not mean that I was not a disciple -- I accepted the whole existence as my master. My Disciplehood was a greater involvement than yours is. I trusted the clouds, the trees. I trusted existence as such. I had no master because I had millions of masters I learned from every possible source. To be a disciple is a must on the path. What does it mean to be a disciple? It means to be able to learn. to be available to learn to be vulnerable to existence. With a master you start learning to learn.
The master is a swimming pool where you can learn how to swim. Once you have learned, all the oceans are yours."

Hakim Sanai

Take everything away

and leave me alone with You.

Close every door

and open the one to You.

Rumi

This is how I would die into the love I have for you:

as pieces of cloud dissolve in sunlight.

Rumi

Love perfected and whole, you arrive.

Words throng my soul but none come out.

A traveler meets his joy and his despair at once.

Dying of thirst, I stand here

with spring water

flowing around my feet.

Rumi

Before now I wanted

to be paid for what I said,

but now I need you

to buy me from my words.

The idols I used to carve

charmed everyone.

Now I'm drunk

on Abraham and tired of idols.

An idol with no color or scent

ended my whole career.

Find someone else for the job.

A happy madman without a thought,

I have swept the shop clean.

If something enters my mind,I say,

"Leave. You're a distraction."

Whatever is coarse and heavy,

I destroy.

Who should be with Layla?

Someone who can be Majnun.

The man holding up this waving flag

actually belongs to the other side.

Imam Zain al-Abedin (RA)

If you are aware of any of your actions, that is a proof that it has not been accepted (by God). For that which is accepted is elevated and hidden from you; your not noticing it is a sign of its acceptance.

Hafiz Of Shiraz

And then You are like this:
A small bird decorated

With orange patches of light

Waving your wings near my window,
Encouraging me with all of existences's love -

- To dance.
And then You are like this:
A cruel word that stabs me

From the mouth of a strange costume

You wear; A guise

You had too long tricked me into thinking

Could be other -- than You.
And then You are...
The firmament

That spins at the end of a string in Your hand

That You offer to mine saying,

"Did you drop this -- surely This is yours."
And then You are, O then You are:
The Beloved of every creature

Revealed with such grandeur -

- bursting From each cell in my body,

I kneel,

I laugh,

I weep,

I sing,

I sing.

Idries Shah-The Man with the Inexplicable Life

There was once a man named Mojud. He lived in a town where he had obtained a post as a small official, and it seemed likely that he would end his days as inspector of weights and measures.
One day when he was walking through the gardens of an ancient building near his home, Khidr, the mysterious guide of the Sufis, appeared to him, dressed in shimmering green. Khidr said, “Man of bright prospects! Leave your work and meet me at the riverside in three days’ time.” Then he disappeared. Mojud went to his superior in trepidation and said that he had to leave. Everyone in the town soon heard of this and they said, “Poor Mojud! He has gone mad.” But, as there were many candidates for his job, they soon forgot him.
On the appointed day, Mojud met Khidr, who said to him, “Tear your clothes and throw yourself into the stream. Perhaps someone will save you.” Mojud did so, even though he wondered if he were mad. Since he could swim, he did not drown, but drifted a long way before a fisherman hauled him into his boat, saying, “Foolish man! The current is strong. What are you trying to do?” Mojud said, “I don’t really know.”
“You are mad,” said the fisherman, “But I will take you into my reed-hut by the river yonder, and we shall see what can be done for you.”
When he discovered that Mojud was well-spoken, he learned from him how to read and write. In exchange, Mojud was given food and helped the fisherman with his work. After a few months, Khidr again appeared, this time at the foot of Mojud’s bed, and said, “Get up now and leave this fisherman. You will be provided for.”
Mojud immediately quit the hut, dressed as a fisherman, and wandered about until he came to a highway.
As dawn was breaking he saw a farmer on a donkey on his way to market. “Do you seek work?” asked the farmer, “because I need a man to help me bring back some purchases.”
Mojud followed him. He worked for the farmer for nearly two years, by which time he had learned a great deal about agriculture but little else.
One afternoon when he was baling wool, Khidr appeared to him and said, “Leave that work, walk to the city of Mosul, and use your savings to become a skin-merchant.”
Mojud obeyed.
In Mosul he became known as a skin-merchant, never seeing Khidr while he plied his trade for three years. He had saved quite a large sum of money, and was thinking of buying a house, when Khidr appeared and said, “Give me your money, walk out of this town as far as the distant Samarkand, and work for a grocer there.”
Mojud did so.
Presently he began to show undoubted signs of illumination. He healed the sick, served his fellow men in the shop during his spare time, and his knowledge of the mysteries became deeper and deeper.
Clerics, philosophers and others visited him and asked, “under whom did you study?”
“It is difficult to say,” said Mojud.
His disciples asked, “How did you start your career?”
He said, “As a small official.” “And you gave it up to devote yourself to self-mortification?”
“No, I just gave it up.” They did not understand him.
People approached him to write the story of his life.
“What have you been in your life?” they asked.
“I jumped into a river, became a fisherman, then walked out of his reed-hut in the middle of the night. After that, I became a farmhand. While I was baling wool, I changed and went to Mosul, where I became a skin-merchant. I saved some money there, but gave it away. Then I walked to samarkand where I worked for a grocer. And this is where I am now.”
“But this inexplicable behavior throws no light upon your strange gifts and wonderful examples,” said the biographers.
“That is so,” said Mojud.
So the biographers constructed for Mojud a wonderful and exciting story: because all saints must have their story, and the story must be in accordance with the appetite of the listener, not with the realities of life.

Juan Ramón Jiménez

Te dehojé, como una rosa,para verte tu alma,y no la vi.
Mas todo en torno–horizontes de tierras y de mares–,todo, hasta el infinito,se colmó de una esenciainmensa y viva

I took off petal after petal, as if you were a rose,
in order to see your soul,
and I didn’t see it.

However, everything around
–horizons of fields and oceans–
everything, even what was infinite,
was filled with a perfume,
immense and living.

Li-Young Lee

Look at the birds.

Even flyingis born

out of nothing.

The first sky

is inside you, open

at either end of day.

The work of wings

was always freedom,

fastening

one heart to every falling thing.