How could I ever thank my Friend? No thanks could ever begin to be worthy. Every hair of my body is a gift from Him; How could I thank Him for each hair? Praise that lavish Lord forever Who from nothing conjures all living beings! Who could ever describe His...
My friend has fled! alas, my friend has fled, And left me nought but tears and pain behind! Like smoke above a flame caught by the wind, So rose she from my breast and forth she sped. Drunk with desire, I seized Love’s cup divine, But she that held it...
It is autumn; not without, But within me is the cold. Youth and spring are all about; It is I that have grown old. Birds are darting through the air, Singing, building without rest; Life is stirring everywhere, Save within my lonely breast. There is silence: the dead leaves Fall...
WHERE are the tidings of union? that I may arise– Forth from the dust I will rise up to welcome thee! My soul, like a homing bird, yearning for Paradise, Shall arise and soar, from the snares of the world set free. When the voice of thy love shall call...
TWO ladies to the summit of my mind Have clomb, to hold an argument of love. The one has wisdom with her from above, For every noblest virtue well designed: The other, beauty’s tempting power refined And the high charm of perfect grace approve: And I, as my sweet Master’s...
My peace, O my brothers and sisters, is my solitude, And my Beloved is with me always, For His love I can find no substitute, And His love is the test for me among mortal beings, Whenever His Beauty I may contemplate, He is my “mihrab”, towards Him is my...
He Is Calm, and I Am Too He is calm, And I am too. He drinks lemon tea, And I drink coffee. (this is the only thing different about us) He, like me, wears a loose striped shirt, And I stare, like him, in a monthly magazine. He does not...
Mahmoud Darwish (13 March 1941 – 9 August 2008) was the national Palestinian poet and author who won numerous awards for his literary output. In his work, Palestine became a metaphor for the loss of Eden, birth and resurrection, and the anguish of dispossession and exile. The poet Naomi Shihab...
_Once_ it smiled a silent dell Where the people did not dwell; They had gone unto the wars, Trusting to the mild-eyed stars, Nightly, from their azure towers, To keep watch above the flowers, In the midst of which all day The red sun-light lazily lay, _Now_ each visitor shall...
I sail to you in the ocean of my dreams To a far away distant place Of great beauty and tranquility Where pain and suffering do not exist, Where we give praise for our joy and happiness, Where our love intertwines with a love for all things O beloved keeper...
Sweet dreams form a shade, O’er my lovely infants head. Sweet dreams of pleasant streams, By happy silent moony beams Sweet sleep with soft down. Weave thy brows an infant crown. Sweet sleep Angel mild, Hover o’er my happy child. Sweet smiles in the night, Hover over my delight. Sweet...
Praise to the emptiness that blanks out existence. Existence: This place made from our love for that emptiness! Yet somehow comes emptiness, this existence goes. Praise to that happening, over and over! For years I pulled my own existence out of emptiness. Then one swoop, one swing of the arm,...
It was passed from one bird to another, the whole gift of the day. The day went from flute to flute, went dressed in vegetation, in flights which opened a tunnel through the wind would pass to where birds were breaking open the dense blue air – and there, night...
How could I ever thank my Friend? No thanks could ever begin to be worthy. Every hair of my body is a gift from Him; How could I thank Him for each hair? Praise that lavish Lord forever Who from nothing conjures all living beings! Who could ever describe His...
I heard an Angel singing When the day was springing, “Mercy, Pity, Peace Is the world’s release.” Thus he sung all day Over the new mown hay, Till the sun went down And haycocks looked brown. I heard a Devil curse Over the heath and the furze, “Mercy could be...
There is a Water that flows down from Heaven To cleanse the world of sin by grace Divine. At last, its whole stock spent, its virtue gone. Dark with pollution not its own, it speeds Back to the Fountain of all purities; Whence, freshly bathed, earthward it sweeps again, Trailing...
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,...
Cruelty has a human heart, And Jealousy a human face; Terror the human form divine, And Secresy the human dress. The human dress is forged iron, The human form a fiery forge, The human face a furnace sealed, The human heart its hungry gorge.
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening Beneath a tall tree While night comes on gently, Dark like me– That is my dream! To fling my arms wide In the...
Beloved, who has bid thee ask no more How fares my life? to play the enemy And ask not where he dwells that was thy friend? Thou art the breath of mercy passing over The whole wide world, and the offender I; Ah, let the rift my tears have channelled...
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