What Do White Birds Say
The earth has disappeared beneath my feet,
It fled from all my ecstasy,
Now like a singing air creature
I feel the Rose
Keep opening.
My heart turned to effulgent wings.
When has love not given freedom?
When has adoration not made one free?
A woman broken in tears and sweat
Stands in a field
Watching the sun and me
Trade jokes.
But never would Hafiz laugh
At your blessed labor
Of finding peace.
What do the dancing white birds say
Looking down upon burnt meadows?
All that you think is rain is not.
Behind the veil Hafiz and angels sometimes weep
Because most eyes are rarely glad
And your divine beauty is still too frightened
To unfurl its thousand swaying arms.
The earth has disappeared beneath my feet,
Illusion fled from all my ecstasy.
Now like a radiant sky creature
God keeps opening.
God keeps opening
Inside of Me.
The Stairway of Existence
We
Are not
In pursuit of formalities
Or fake religious
Laws,
For through the stairway of existence
We have come to God’s
Door.
We are
People who need to love, because
Love is the soul’s life,
Love is simply creation’s greatest joy.
Through
The stairway of existence,
O, through the stairway of existence, Hafiz
Have
You now come,
Have we all now come to
The Beloved’s
Door.
Some Fill With Each Good Rain
There are different wells within your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.
In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,
That “love” is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.
Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a
Stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.
There are different wells within us.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far, far too deep
For that.
Tired of Speaking Sweetly
Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,
Break all our teacup talk of God.
If you had the courage and
Could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room
By your hair,
Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
That bring you no joy.
Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of truth
That make you fight within yourself, dear one,
And with others,
Causing the world to weep
On too many fine days.
God wants to manhandle us,
Lock us inside of a tiny room with Himself
And practice His dropkick.
The Beloved sometimes wants
To do us a great favor:
Hold us upside down
And shake all the nonsense out.
But when we hear
He is in such a “playful drunken mood”
Most everyone I know
Quickly packs their bags and hightails it
Out of town.
~Hafiz