Monday, June 9, 2008
(from the divan of Hilkat)
The ruined slave of ashk’s possessions wails in despair, the great cry. One hundred thousand intelligent ones are running towards that goal; in fact, they’re crushing each other. What can you say? Those who run with their intellects, because they always see faults in the road, get stuck on obstacles. It is in the place where the mild ones who have come to the awareness of their nothingness come together that the Beautiful One is kept secret.
Protect the plant that you have planted in your field from the weeds of separation until you can get its seeds. When the heat of ashk has killed the germs you will be a pure tongue. The purpose is to live this essence. You cannot go to the door of the Beloved with strangers or foes. Come pleasantly, heart. Come empty, heart.
To this gathering come quickly, heart.
I will never be fooled if you come in front of me with hypocrisy. I will take you and wrap you in the decree of authority, in the life force of my life. Oh, one beautiful misfortune is worth a thousand pieces of advice! On your path the fox and lion have become kings next to you and fallen into the the painter’s jar just like a buffoon.
The oppression of the night is lit up in the rose garden of my Beloved. The surroundings of Nur are circled with oppression, because He is ruh ul-kuddus, the Holy Spirit.
On the beaten path, this head of mine has become a throne. The bloody tears of my eyes have turned to dust and smoke in the desert of Kerbela.
When He came neither was I left, or you.