My younger son and I share the love of written word. We both love exploring the book stores, and the stores where they sell old books is the favorite.

Some time ago he bought a translated version of Divan i Shams Tabrez for me which I added to my other books that I keep by my bedside. They are, Divan i Ghalib, Kuliat i Iqbal and of course The Quran.  I have a habit of picking up one of these books first thing in the morning, open it at random and read whatever I see there. Then start my day. This has been going on for years.

Today, I opened the Devan and was struck by a live wire.  Here it is for all of you out there. Read and contemplate, and some more.

Where is he.

Where is my soul’s delight?

my North, my West, my South and East?

He is not here amongst you who conceive nothing. Where has he gone?

He is not here. not here. Not even the compassing aroma of his presence, dwells amongst you who receive nothing.

I look here, I look there, I look up and down, I cannot see even the shadow of his beard.

Oh believers, speak to me.

Tell me where he has gone who shone like a blue flame in my conceiving eyes ……….

Should I be grateful for the incomparable beauty of his face

or for the sweet severity of his demeanor?

Even if his lucid soul is no longer sketched in the memory of his body, it does not matter;

my love revolves like the plants around the storm of his Sun.

Call out for Shams, my soul requires him. Chant his familiar names of friendship, lighten the gravity of our grief.

Enliven the ear’s lassitude with the energy of his name

– Rumi – Divan 1235

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