Gabriel FAURE: Pavane
I am a hole in a flute that the Christ’s breath
I am the concert from the mouth of every creature,
I am a hole in a flute that the Christ’s breath
moves through,listen to this music.
singing with the myriad chorus.
moves through,listen to this music.
Hafiz
I wish I could speak like music
I wish I could speak like music.
I wish I could put the swaying splendor
I am trying the best I can
I wish I could speak like divine music.
Surrender
Hafiz
Of the fields into words
So that you could hold Truth
Against your body
And dance.
With this crude brush,the tongue,
To cover you with light.
I want to give you the sublime rhythms
Of this earth and the sky's limbs
As they joyously spin and surrender,
Against Beloved's luminous breath.
Hafiz wants you to hold me
Against your precious
Body
And dance,
Dance.
Moon Language
Everyone you see, you say to them,
Of course you do not do this out loud;
Still though, think about this,
Why not become the one
With that sweet moon
What every other eye in this world
What
Who will want to sleep in your bed
Look what happens when the tongue
“I will be your slave.”
The moon
And can't bear
Hafiz
Admit something:
“Love me.”
Otherwise,
Someone would call the cops.
This great pull in us
To connect.
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
That is always saying,
Language,
Is dying to
Hear.
What
We speak
Hafiz
We speak
Becomes the house we live in.
If the roof leaks
Right above
It?
Cannot say to kindness,
Covers her face with both hands
To look.
Narrow the Difference....
When I play my lute,
And the angels travel far knowing
When I play my drum, my notes become so real
No one has ever sat with Hafiz
No one can read my poems out loud
I have many younger brothers and sisters
There are always friends of God in this world.
When Hafiz plays his lute,
That will move on the wind's breath for hundreds of years
Hafiz
The invisible ones call a conference,
A rare entertainment will soon take place.
The winged ones throw saddles upon them;
An outrageous holy rodeo begins.
And not left for the better.
In a tender, loving voice
And not narrow the difference,
Not narrow the gap,
Between you and God.
Scattered upon this earth.
Find one and offer service.
For their glance is generous and cannot help
but forever give.
My notes ascend into the air and form
Infinite blue crystals
As my sacred debris, as the divine dust
Rising as a gift from my
singing bones.
Build a House for Men and Birds....
You have taken root in the Beloved
And the hundred graceful movements
Build a house for men and birds.
And bring some peace into your
The Friend has such exquisite taste
You have taken root in our Beloved.
We all cook together around a fire
We are all sentries at our sacred humble posts.
The atoms in your cells and limbs are full of
This Love you now have of the Truth
Your joys and sufferings on this arduous path
So that you can guide this world like Hafiz
Hafiz
I love your golden branches
Your body now makes each time
The wind, children and love
Come near.
Sit with them - play music.
For a day, for just one day,
Talk about that which disturbs no one
Beautiful eyes.
Why play notes from your soft mouth-flute
That hurt the Blue Sky's ear?
That every time you bow to Him
Your mind will become lighter and more
Refined;
Your spirit will prepare its voice to laugh
In an outrageous freedom.
I love your emerald branches
And the hundred ways your heart does dance
Every time you discover God is so pleased
Because His hands are always playing catch
With your soul.
Our Yearning music builds.
We share our tools and instruments and plates;
We are companions on this earth
As the sun and planets are in the sky.
The stones and stars envy the movements
Of your legs and tongue
And call to you to sing on their behalf.
wonderful talents;
They dance in the Hidden Choir I conduct.
Don't sleep tonight, dear pilgrim,
So I can lead you on my white mare to His summer
House.
Will never forsake you.
Are lifting your worn veil like a rising stage
curtain
And will surely reveal your Magnificent Self
In the Hidden Choir
God and His friends will forever
Conduct.
Nydia Lozano Art
So You Can Plant More Wheat.....
I would like to remove some rock
And those hills I see that are part of you,
so that you won’t erode,
Are we not lovers?
Do I need to ask your permission
The title to your heart came to my office.
So I would like to remove some stones
and the world,
Hafiz
from your field
so that you can plant more wheat.
I have some trees in mind for them
and flowering grasses,
when the elements pour.
Cannot I speak to you like this?
to hitch up my ox
and sing to him as I improve
your vast terrain?
In looking at it a great interest
in your soul developed.
The care of your soul
became mine.
from your meadows;
then an orchard you could grow,
and the world then,
will come to taste
your riches.
No comments:
Post a Comment