Rumi quatrain, #895 Foruzanfar

O heart, pass by love, beloved and companion;
In your eye, girdle them like the Zoroastrian.
Melt in the crucible of Nothing, without fear-
For this poverty is free from stranger and friend.

note: second line= regard all that you love as
unworthy of your attention (like those who reject
the true faith.) Zoroastrians wear a cord around
the waist.

ای دل بگذر ز عشق معشوق و ز یار
گر دیده وری ز هر سه بر بند زنار
در بوته نیستی شو باک مدار
کاین فقر منزهست ز یار و اغیار

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The two seas meet where the fish flew

The two seas meet where the fish flew
From Moses’ pocket to freedom;
Khezr appears to the lost Jew
And leads him on to his Kingdom.

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Ghazal #35 from Ghazals For The Friend, by Bill Gannett

I raise my glass to the only divine lover;
I drink to the dregs all the wine he offers.

There is no taste I prefer to his presence;
my eyes have no light save his effulgence.

I have no motion but for his rhythm:
all life springs from his ancient whim.

Hunger gnaws daily until beauty’s embrace-
all thirst is for sight of his compassionate face.

My tears are a lake I would gladly drown in,
but for the pity induced by such a sin.

My only hope is the pain of despair:
I will not find him until I forsake all care.

Darvish has no friend but the deep blue sky;
Yet, what he loves, always remains close by.

 

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Guest piece by Charles Bukowski

For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can’t readily accept the God formula, the big answers don’t remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command nor faith a dictum. I am my own god. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.”

~ Charles Bukowski

Read more: http://bukowskiquotes.com/charles-bukowski-quotes/#ixzz2XTDeYFMi

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God bless the quick and ready wit

God bless the quick and ready wit,
Bless the mind of the dull halfwit;
May we all get so bloody smart,
We all figure out who-dunnit.

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Darvish Talks To Nosh Anzar, Part 3

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Ghazal #91 from Ghazals For The Friend, by Bill Gannett

The mast is full without meat and drinks tea all day long;
His precocious speech is precious and sublime song.

The man of God is drunk without drink, and is attracted
To brothels where he can be without being distracted.

The man of God is a woman whose radiant beauty,
Charms the God-Man with stunning and brilliant poetry.

This lover whose longing has so overcome his reticence,
Approaches the Beloved in all his pure nakedness.

The world’s greatest pleasure does not compare with the bliss,
The man of God finds in just one of his heavenly kisses!

The majzoob is a king whose throne lies in a gutter;
He issues his royal commands with a divine mutter.

Darvish has heard that the Eternal Beloved himself,
Has no greater joy than to shower the mast with wealth.

 

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Ghazal #97 from Ghazals For The Friend, by Bill Gannett

This life of consumerism is a contract inspired by Faust:
We sold our soul for desire, but now the mind is accursed!

With pleasure comes pain as surely as cats’ play with mice;
Our pursuit of desire has rebounded as a dreadful farce:

In this market economy regaled as a noble rat-race,
We are the rodents competing on a wheel turning in place.

Our corporate experiment is about socializing greed;
It is a winner-takes-all approach regardless of need.

Big Fist and the Fat Cats have all the fun running the show;
The rest of us run in place to make their profits grow.

It was the glint of gold in our eyes that dug such a deep grave;
It is the light of love in our hearts that we so deeply crave.

Darvish must consider how to attain research fame,
By learning how to make rats and cats chant God’s name.

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Darvish Talks To Nosh Anzar, Part 2

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Rumi quatrain, #614 Foruzanfar

Often has heart run after her, to no avail;
All desire, fresh and old, gambled- to no avail.
Desperate, caged in chest’s corner, with cunning
Plays all its arts and wiles, but to no avail.

دل از پی دلدار بسی تاخت و نشد
هر خشک و تری که داشت در باخت و نشد
بیچاره بکنج سینه بنشسته بمکر
هر حیله و فن که داشت پرداخت و نشد

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