We weave

Raiment for the goddess from the threads of

Our hearts, and we fill the hands of the

Angels with the seeds of our inner selves.

You are the sons of the pursuit of earthly

Gaiety. You place your hearts in the hands

Of Emptiness, for the hand’s touch to

Emptiness is smooth and inviting.

You reside in the house of Ignorance, for

In his house there is no mirror in which to

View your souls.

We sigh, and from our sighs arise the

Whispering of flowers and the rustling of

Leaves and the murmur of rivulets.

When you ridicule us your taunts mingle

With the crushing of the skulls and the

Rattling of shackles and the wailing of the

Abyss. When we cry, our tears fall into the

Heart of Life, as dew drops fall from the

Eyes of Night into the heart of Dawn; and

When you laugh, your mocking laughter pours

Down like the viper’s venom into a wound.

We cry, and sympathize with the miserable

Wanderer and distressed widow; but you rejoice

And smile at the sight of resplendent gold.

We cry, for we listen to the moaning of the

Poor and the grieving of the oppressed weak;

But you laugh, for you hear naught but the

Happy sound of the wine goblets.

We cry, for our spirits are at the moment

Separated from God; but you laugh, for your

Bodies cling with unconcern to the earth.

We are the sons of Sorrow, and you are the

Sons of Joy.… Let us measure the outcome of

Our sorrow against the deeds of your joy

Before the face of the Sun.…

You have built the Pyramids upon the hearts

Of slaves, but the Pyramids stand now upon

The sand, commemorating to the Ages our

Immortality and your evanescence.

You have built Babylon upon the bones of the

Weak, and erected the palaces of Nineveh upon

The graves of the miserable. Babylon is now but

The footprint of the camel upon the moving sand

Of the desert, and its history is repeated

To the nations who bless us and curse you.

We have carved Ishtar from solid marble,

And made it to quiver in its solidity and

Speak through its muteness.

We have composed and played the soothing

Song of Nahawand upon the strings, and caused

The Beloved’s spirit to come hovering in the

Firmament near to us; we have praised the

Supreme Being with words and deeds; the words

Became as the words of God, and the deeds

Became overwhelming love of the angels.

You are following Amusement, whose sharp claws

Have torn thousands of martyrs in the arenas

Of Rome and Antioch.… But we are following

Silence, whose careful fingers have woven the

Iliad and the Book of Job and the Lamentations

Of Jeremiah.

You lie down with Lust, whose tempest has

Swept one thousand processions of the soul of

Woman away and into the pit of shame and

Horror.… But we embrace Solitude, in whose

Shadow the beauties of Hamlet and Dante arose.

You curry for the favor of Greed, and the sharp

Swords of Greed have shed one thousand rivers

Of blood.… But we seek company with Truth,

And the hands of Truth have brought down

Knowledge from the Great Heart of the Circle

Of Light.

We are the sons of Sorrow, and you are the

Sons of Joy; and between our sorrow and your

Joy there is a rough and narrow path which

Your spirited horses cannot travel, and upon

Which your magnificent carriages cannot pass.

We pity your smallness as you hate our

Greatness; and between our pity and your

Hatred, Time halts bewildered. We come to

You as friends, but you attack us as enemies;

And between our friendship and your enmity,

There is a deep ravine flowing with tears

And blood.

We build palaces for you, and you dig graves

For us; and between the beauty of the palace

And the obscurity of the grave, Humanity

Walks as a sentry with iron weapons.

We spread your path with roses, and you cover

Our beds with thorns; and between the roses

And the thorns, Truth slumbers fitfully.

Since the beginning of the world you have

Fought against our gentle power with your

Coarse weakness; and when you triumph over

Us for an hour, you croak and clamour merrily

Like the frogs of the water. And when we

Conquer you and subdue you for an Age, we

Remain as silent giants.

You crucified Jesus and stood below Him,

Blaspheming and mocking at Him; but at last

He came down and overcame the generations,

And walked among you as a hero, filling the

Universe with His glory and His beauty.

You poisoned Socrates and stoned Paul and

Destroyed Ali Talib and assassinated

Madhat Pasha, and yet those immortals are

With us forever before the face of Eternity.

But you live in the memory of man like

Corpses upon the face of the earth; and you

Cannot find a friend who will bury you in

The obscurity of non-existence and oblivion,

Which you sought on earth.

We are the sons of Sorrow, and sorrow is a

Rich cloud, showering the multitudes with

Knowledge and Truth. You are the sons of

Joy, and as high as your joy may reach,

By the Law of God it must be destroyed

Before the winds of heaven and dispersed

Into nothingness, for it is naught but a

Thin and wavering pillar of smoke.

THE HOUSE OF FORTUNE

MY WEARIED heart bade me farewell and left for the House of Fortune. As he reached that holy city which the soul had blessed and worshipped, he commenced wondering, for he could not find what he had always imagined would be there. The city was empty of power, money, and authority.

And my heart spoke to the daughter of Love saying, “Oh Love, where can I find Contentment? I heard that she had come here to join you.”

And the daughter of Love responded, “Contentment has already gone to preach her gospel in the city, where greed and corruption are paramount; we are not in need of her.”

Fortune craves not Contentment, for it is an earthly hope, and its desires are embraced by union with objects, while Contentment is naught but heartfelt.

The eternal soul is never contented; it ever seeks exaltation. Then my heart looked upon Life of Beauty and said, “Thou art all knowledge; enlighten me as to the mystery of Woman.” And he answered, “Oh human heart, woman is your own reflection, and whatever you are, she is; wherever you live, she lives; she is like religion if not interpreted by the ignorant, and like a moon, if not veiled with clouds, and like a breeze, if not poisoned with impurities.”

And my heart walked toward Knowledge, the daughter of Love and Beauty, and said, “Bestow upon me wisdom, that I might share it with the people.” And she responded, “Say not wisdom, but rather fortune, for real fortune comes not from outside, but begins in the Holy of Holies of life. Share of thyself with the people.”

TWO INFANTS

A PRINCE stood on the balcony of his palace addressing a great multitude summoned for the occasion and said, “Let me offer you and this whole fortunate country my congratulations upon the birth of a new prince who will carry the name of my noble family, and of whom you will be justly proud. He is the new bearer of a great and illustrious ancestry, and upon him depends the brilliant future of this realm. Sing and be merry!” The voices of the throngs, full of joy and thankfulness, flooded the sky with exhilarating song, welcoming the new tyrant who would affix the yoke of oppression to their necks by ruling the weak with bitter authority, and exploiting their bodies and killing their souls. For that destiny, the people were singing and drinking ecstatically to the health of the new Emir.

Another child entered life and that kingdom at the same time. While the crowds were glorifying the strong and belittling themselves by singing praise to a potential despot, and while the angels of heaven were weeping over the people’s weakness and servitude, a sick woman was thinking. She lived in an old, deserted hovel and, lying in her hard bed beside her newly-born infant wrapped with ragged swaddles, was starving to death. She was a penurious and miserable young wife neglected by humanity; her husband had fallen into the trap of death set by the prince’s oppression, leaving a solitary woman to whom God had sent, that night, a tiny companion to prevent her from working and sustaining life.

As the mass dispersed and silence was restored to the vicinity, the wretched woman placed the infant on her lap and looked into his face and wept as if she were to baptize him with tears. And with a hunger-weakened voice she spoke to the child saying, “Why have you left the spiritual world and come to share with me the bitterness of earthly life? Why have you deserted the angels and the spacious firmament and come to this miserable land of humans, filled with agony, oppression, and heartlessness? I have nothing to give you except tears; will you be nourished on tears instead of milk? I have no silk clothes to put on you; will my naked, shivering arms give you warmth? The little animals graze in the pasture and return safely to their shed; and the small birds pick the seeds and sleep placidly between the branches. But you, my beloved, have naught save a loving but destitute mother.”

Then she took the infant to her withered breast and clasped her arms around him as if wanting to join the two bodies in one, as before. She lifted her burning eyes slowly toward heaven and cried, “God! Have mercy on my unfortunate countrymen!”

At that moment the clouds floated from the face of the moon, whose beams penetrated the transom of that poor home and fell upon two corpses.

THE DAY OF MY BIRTH

IT WAS on this day of the year that my

Mother brought me into the world; on

This day, a quarter-century past, the

Great silence placed me between the arms

Of Existence, replete with lamentation

And tears and conflicts.

Twenty-five times have I encircled the

Blazing sun, and many times more has the

Moon encircled my smallness; yet, I have

Not learned the secrets of light, neither

Do I comprehend the mystery of darkness.

I have journeyed these twenty-five years

With the earth and the sun and the planets

Through the Supreme Infinite; yet, my soul

Yearns for understanding of the Eternal Law

As the hollow grotto reverberates with the

Echo of the waves of the sea, but never fills.

Life exists through the existence of the

Heavenly system, but is not aware of the

Unbounded might of the firmament; and the

Soul sings the praise of the ebb and flow

Of a heavenly melody, but does not perceive

Its meaning.

Twenty-five years past, the hand of Time

Recorded my being, and I am a living page

In the book of the universe; yet, I am now

But naught; but a vague word with meaning

Of complication symbolizing now nothing,

And then many things.

Meditations and memories, on this day of

Each year, congest my soul and halt the

Procession of life, revealing to me the

Phantoms of wasted nights, and sweeping

Them away as the great wind disperses the

Thin cloud from the horizon. And they

Vanish in the obscured corner of my hut

As the murmur of the narrow stream must

Vanish in the distant, broadened valley.

On this day of each year, the spirits

Which have fashioned my soul visit with

Me from all of Eternity and gather about

Me, chanting the sorrowful hymns of memories

Then they retreat swiftly and disappear

Behind the visible objects like a flock of

Birds descending upon a deserted threshing

Floor whereupon they find no seeds; they

Hover in disappointment and depart quickly

For a more rewarding place.

On this day I meditate upon the past,

Whose purpose puzzles me in mind and

Confuses me in heart, and I look

Upon it as I look into a hazy mirror

In which I see naught but death-like

Countenances upon the past years.

As I gaze again, I see my own self

Staring upon my sorrowful self, and

I question Sorrow but find him mute.

Sorrow, if able to speak, would

Prove sweeter than the joy of song.

During my twenty-five years of life

I have loved many things, and often

I loved that which the people hated,

And loathed that which the people

Loved.

And that which I loved when I was a

Child, I still love, and shall continue

To love forevermore. The power to

Love is God’s greatest gift to man,

For it never will be taken from the

Blessed one who loves.

I love death, and entitle it with

Sweet names, and praise it with

Loving words, secretly and to the

Throngs of taunting listeners.

Although I have not renounced my great

Allegiance to death, I became deeply

Enamoured with life also, for life and

Death are equal to me in charm and

Sweetness and attraction, and they

Have joined hands in fostering in me

My longings and affections, and in

Sharing with me my love and suffering.

I love freedom, and my love for true

Freedom grew with my growing knowledge

Of the people’s surrender to slavery

And oppression and tyranny, and of

Their submission to the horrible idols

Erected by the past ages and polished

By the parched lips of the slaves.

But I love those slaves with my love

For freedom, for they blindly kissed

The jaws of ferocious beasts in calm

And blissful unawareness, feeling not

The venom of the smiling vipers, and

Unknowingly digging their graves with

Their own fingers.

My love for freedom is my greatest love,

For I have found it to be a lovely

Maiden, trailed by aloneness and

Withered by solitude until she became

As a spectre wandering in the midst

Of the dwellings unrecognized and

Unwelcome, and stopping by the waysides

And calling to the wayfarers who did

Not offer heed.

During this score and five years I have

Loved happiness as all men love happiness.

I was in constant search of her but did

Not find her in man’s pathway; nor did

I observe the imprints of her footsteps

Upon the sand before man’s palaces;

Neither did I hear the echo of her voice

From the windows of man’s temples.

I sought happiness in my solitude, and

As I drew close to her I heard my soul

Whisper into my heart, saying, “The

Happiness you seek is a virgin, born

And reared in the depths of each heart,

And she emerges not from her birthplace.”

And when I opened my heart to find her,

I discovered in its domain only her

Mirror and her cradle and her raiment,

And happiness was not there.

I love mankind and I love equally all

Three human kinds … the one who

Blasphemes life, the one who blesses

It, and the one who meditates upon it.

I love the first for his misery and

The second for his generosity and the

Third for his perception and peace.

Thus, with love, did five and twenty

Years race into nothingness, and thus

Swiftly sped the days and the nights,

Falling from the roadway of my life

And fluttering away like the drying

Leaves of the trees before the winds of

Autumn.

Today I stopped on my road, like the

Weary traveler who has not reached his

Destination but seeks to ascertain his

Position. I look in every direction, but

Cannot find trace of any part of my past

At which I might point and say, “This is

Mine!”

Nor can I reap harvest from the seasons

Of my years, for my bins boast only

These parchments upon which the black

Ink is traced, and these paintings,

Upon which appear simple lines and colours.

With these papers and pictures I have

Succeeded only in shrouding and burying

My love and my thoughts and my dreams,

Even as the sower buries the seeds in

The heart of the earth.

But when the sower sows the seeds in

The heart of the earth he returns home

At eventide, hoping and waiting for

The day of harvest; but I have sown

The inner seeds of my heart in despair,

And hoping and waiting are in vain.

And now, since I have made my five and

Twenty journeys about the sun, I look

Upon the past from behind a deep veil

Of sighs and sorrows, and the silent

Future enlightens itself to me only

Through the sad lamp of the past.

I stare at the universe through the

Transom of my hut and behold the faces

Of men, and hear their voices rise into

Space and hear their footsteps falling

Into the stones; and I perceive the

Revelations of their spirits and the

Vibrations of their desires and the

Throbbings of their hearts.

And I see the children, running and

Laughing and playing and crying; and

I observe the youth walking with their

Heads lifted upward as if reading and

Singing the Kaseeda of youth between

The margins of their eyes, lined with

The radiant rays of the sun.

And I behold the maidens, who are walking

Gracefully and swaying like tender

Branches, and smiling like flowers, and

Gazing upon the youths from behind the

Quivering eyes of love.

And I see the aged walking slowly with

Bent backs, leaning upon their walking

Staffs, staring at the earth as though

Seeking there a treasure lost in youth.

I observe these images and phantoms

Moving and crawling in the paths and

Roadways of the city.

Then I look beyond the city and meditate

Upon the wilderness and its revered

Beauty and its speaking silence; its

Knolls and valleys and lofty trees; its

Fragrant flowers and brisk brooks and

Singing birds.

Then I look beyond the wilderness and

Contemplate the sea with all the magical

Wonders and secrets of its depths, and

The foaming and raging waves of its

Surface. The depths are calm.

Then I gaze beyond the ocean and see the

Infinite sky with its glittering stars;

And its suns and moons and planets; its

Gigantic forces and its myriad elements

That comply unerringly with a great

Law possessing neither a beginning nor

An ending.

Upon these things I ponder from between

My walls, forgetting my twenty-five

Years and all the years which preceded

Them and all the centuries to come.

At this moment my own existence and

All of my environs seem as the weak

Sigh of a small child trembling in the

Deep and eternal emptiness of a supreme

And boundless space.

But this insignificant entity …

This self which is myself, and whose

Motion and clamour I hear constantly,

Is now lifting strengthening wings

Toward the spacious firmament,

Extending hands in all directions,

Swaying and shivering upon this day

Which brought me into life, and life

Into me.

And then a tremendous voice arises

From the Holy of Holies within me,

Saying, “Peace be with you, Life!

Peace be with you, Awakening!

Peace be with you, Revelation!

“Peace be with you, oh Day, who

Engulfs the darkness of the earth

With thy brilliant light!

“Peace be with you, oh Night,

Through whose darkness the lights

Of heaven sparkle!

“Peace be with you, Seasons of the

Year!

Peace be with you, Spring, who

Restores the earth to youth!

Peace be with you, Summer, who

Heralds the glory of the sun!

Peace be with you, Autumn, who

Gives with joy the fruits of

Labour and the harvest of toil!

Peace be with you, Winter, whose

Rage and tempest restore to

Nature her sleeping strength!

“Peace be with you, Years, who

Reveal what the years concealed!

Peace be with you, Ages, who

Build what the ages destroyed!

Peace be with you, Time, who leads

Us to the fullness of death!

Peace be with you, Heart, who

Throbs in peace while submerged

In tears!

Peace be with you, Lips, who

Utter joyous words of salaam while

Tasting the gall and the vinegar

Of life!

Peace be with you, Soul, who

Directs the rudder of life and

Death while hidden from us

Behind the curtain of the sun!”

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THE CRIMINAL

A YOUNG man of strong body, weakened by hunger, sat on the walker’s portion of the street stretching his hand toward all who passed, begging and repeating the sad song of his defeat in life, while suffering from hunger and from humiliation.

When night came, his lips and tongue were parched, while his hand was still as empty as his stomach.

He gathered himself and went out from the city, where he sat under a tree and wept bitterly. Then he lifted his puzzled eyes to heaven while hunger was eating his inside, and he said, “Oh Lord, I went to the rich man and asked for employment, but he turned away because of my shabbiness; I knocked at the school door, but was forbidden solace because I was empty-handed; I sought any occupation that would give me bread, but all to no avail. In desperation I asked alms, but Thy worshippers saw me and said, “He is strong and lazy, and he should not beg.”

“Oh Lord, it is Thy will that my mother gave birth unto me, and now the earth offers me back to You before the Ending.”

His expression then changed. He arose and his eyes now glittered in determination. He fashioned a thick and heavy stick from the branch of the tree, and pointed it toward the city, shouting, “I asked for bread with all the strength of my voice, and was refused. Now I shall obtain it by the strength of my muscles! I asked for bread in the name of mercy and love, but humanity did not heed. I shall take it now in the name of evil!”

The passing years rendered the youth a robber, killer, and destroyer of souls; he crushed all who opposed him; he amassed fabulous wealth with which he won himself over to those in power.