Poetry Tuesday

Facing such trials these days that I do very little but play with my daughter, scrub things, and read Hafiz. Sometimes, when the lights go out, the familiar touch of his longing guides me better than my own instincts. In the dark, his voice says, I am blind, too.

The Poor and Pure of Heart
by Hafiz

In this city, in all these stores, I have spent
Everything I have, even my last dime.

I'm so hungry now, I'm chewing on my hands for food
And my emotions have turned from callousness into insights.

Like the rose whose petals fall after blooming,
In my body and spirit I have set a fire.

Last night a nightingale came to my window and sang.
Its song was so sweet I listened, and it had this to say:

"O pilgrim, be happy. Your Beloved is often angry because of
Poverty and bad luck. There is no need for you to act like this!

"If spiritual enlightenment is taking too long and you are tired of the world,
Then give up everything, even your words.

"Even if waves of misfortune were to come crashing on the roof of the sky,
The poor and pure of heart would stay completely dry."

O Hafiz, what if it were possible to achieve union with God?
Do you think that for even a moment you'd continue to behave this way?