Like a thirsty wayfarer, lost across a dry desert,
finding a drop of water,
… I drink that drop with utmost greed,
and then… more thirst… and then more...
Preach unto me, O thou Lovers...
O thou pioneers to the Land of Love...
O thou who have returned to safety...
O thou who have sat at the table of His generosity...
O thou who have found contentment under the shadow of His care…
Is it a mirage that has fallen onto my palms, or it is a raindrop?
Tell me, O thou all knowing, all wise,
is there a dead end ahead of me or a highway?
Swear to the fear of the doubt that is hidden in the corner of your hearts,
away from the reach of those that you do not trust…
I sewer…
Preach unto me, O thou Preachers…
…if you have passed through the dark alleyways,
formed by the patterns of your imaginations, safely…
Tell me, if you have heard that eternal call...
Let me know if the Beloved has returned to life,
And if He has spoken out…
Let me know if you have any doubt…
Tell me if He has told you:
“O fleeting shadow! Pass beyond the baser stages of doubt...”
Hence, shed your light at this fleeting shadow,
I implore you…
Have you seen the glory of the Beloved,
peeping through the cracks of the Black Pit?
O thou who have claimed to inhale the smoke
of the “Burning Bush” on mount Sinai...
Have you risen to the light of Sun… yet?
So, tell me, if you are to “rise to the exalted heights of certainty”…
Tell me…
Ah… Tell me…
Perchance my inner eye would light up…
Ah… Tell me…
Perchance the curtains of vain imaginations would lift before my eyes…
Let me know,
for I wish my heart could tremble for Him…
Let me know,
for I wish my soul would weep, hearing the tales of His sufferings…
…for my eyes do not wish to hold on to their tears
which are mystifying their vision…
…for my cry cannot wait to escape from my throat… no longer…
…so… let me know…
Warn me to open my eyes, for the Beloved has come…
inform me that it is Him walking along the Egyptian market, veilless…
…calmly…
…gently…
Tell me that it is Him who is radiating from the centre of the black-hole
to the gravity of the essence of brightness…
…that it is Him who is crying out aloud…
…. who is blasting His trumpet,
once, and again, commanding you to
“Open the eye of truth, that thou mayest behold the veilless Beauty”
Ah, alas… my eyelashes are holding on to each other, tightly…
Alas… the pupils of my eyes are scared to turn around…
Perhaps the rate of His beauty has inflamed the market’s demand…
Perhaps the Zulaikha of the hearts of His lovers
has mistaken their palms for the orange,
before even seeing Him…
Hence, blood is dripping off their palms,
as patience is escaping from their chests,
and colour is fading on their faces…
…for glorified is Him who is the Most Glorious…
…and glory be unto Him who is the Most Exalted Fashioner,
amongst those who are the creators of beauty…
Preach unto me O thou lovers…
Tell me the tales of His beauty…
Blow over me the scent of His torn garment…
Describe the pit of His chin to me…
O thou who have circled around the temple of His beauty…
O thou who have stared into His eyes … eye to eye…
O thou who have clung on to His garment… tightly…
For I am not brave enough to look up…
For I cannot stand the heat of the volcano of my sins,
boiling over of the bones of my body of desire…
I do not posses such eyes as can see His mysteries…
I do not have anything in my mean fists that is worth His love…
For I have no tongue that could praise His beauty…
For I cannot “exclaim: Hallowed be the Lord,
the most excellent of all creators!”
For my senses may not reach
to the height of the majesty of this revelation…
For my heart cannot bear the gravity of this happening…
For I am not capable of keeping that secret…
and I cannot unlearn something once I have learned…
Parvaneh Farid www.latelierpapillon.co.uk
Quotations from “The Hidden Words”: http://pfarid.blogspot.com/2007/12/hidden-words.html
