Author Archives: bill gannett

he who protects the land of the people of faith-god protect him in all ways from calamity. if you wish that the beloved not break his word,hold your end of the thread, that he hold his. about the friend’s pain- … Continue reading →

In the beginning, the light of your beauty breathed into being- And love appeared, illuminating the whole world. Your face appeared, and the angels saw they had no love- They became fire out of this envy, and gave love to … Continue reading →

o you by whose bright face the tulip bed grows green- return! because without your rosy cheek, the spring of life is gone. if tears fall from the eye like rain- so be it! because life, in grief for you, … Continue reading →

we don’t speak badly, and incline not toward falsity. we don’t call robe black, nor dye our own cloak blue. we don’t inscribe bad letters in the book of learning. we don’t join truth’s secrets to pages of lies. the … Continue reading →

we will lift our hands one night in prayer, and find a remedy for the grief we suffer apart from you. our heart has slipped from our hands- friends, help! bring the doctor with healing herb to make it well. … Continue reading →

when god made your form of heart-opening eyebrows, he tied the start of my affair to your eye-glancing. he stole quiet from both heart and longing bird, when he veiled both you and flower with covering. many the knot was … Continue reading →

the ancient fatwa of the magian elder says that wine is forbidden where there is no friend. i will rip up this coat of hypocrisy- what to do? rude company is torture to the spirit. o that her lips might … Continue reading →

I see the light of god in the Magian tavern. Look, this is strange! I see what light from where? Don’t sell me your pomp, king of the Haj- you See a house of stone, and I see the house … Continue reading →

All my life each day I’ve been walking in search and each moment made entreaty of reputation. Without the waxing light of my love, how to pass the days? I set a snare on the path, and place a bird … Continue reading →

Last night, I saw angels knock on the wineshop door- the clay of Adam had been mixed, and cast into a cup. Those who dwell in the chaste and veiled heavens drank strong wine with me, a wayside beggar: “Heaven … Continue reading →