O Martyred Spirit

By George Santayana

O MARTYRED Spirit of this helpless Whole,
Who dost by pain for tyranny atone,
And in the star, the atom, and the stone,
Purgest the primal guilt, and in the soul;
Rich but in grief, thou dost thy wealth unroll,
And givest of thy substance to thine own,
Mingling the love, the laughter, and the groan
In the large hollow of the heaven’s bowl.
– Fill full my cup; the dregs and honeyed brim
I take from thy just hand, more worthy love
For sweetening not the draught for me or him.
What in myself I am, that let me prove;
Relent not for my feeble prayer, nor dim
The burning of thine altar for my hymn.

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I Will Hire You as a Minstrel

I Will Hire You as a Minstrel

by Hafez

Take one of my tears,
Throw it into the ocean

And watch the salt in the wounds
Of this earth and men begin to disappear.

Take one of my tears
And cradle it in your palm.
Mount a great white camel
And carry my love into every desert,
Paying homage to every Prophet
Who has ever walked in our world.

O take one of my tears
And stop weeping only for sadness,

For there is so much More to this life
Than you now understand.

Take one of my tears
And become like the Happy One,
O like the Happy One —
Who now lives Forever
Within me.

When a drop from my Emerald Sea
Touches your soul’s mouth,
It will dissolve everything but your Joy
And an Eternal Wonder.

Then,
The Beloved will gladly hire you
As His minstrel

To go traveling about this world,
Letting everyone upon this earth

Hear
The Beautiful Names of God
Resound in a thousand chords!

Hafiz himself is singing tonight
In Resplendent Glory,

For the cup in my heart
Has revealed the Beloved’s Face,
And I have His oath in writing

That He will never again depart.

O Hafiz, take one of your tears,
For you are weeping like a golden candle-

Throw one tear into the Ocean of your own verse

And let the wounds
Of every lover of God who kneels in prayer
And comes close to your words
Begin, right now,
To disappear.

From: I Heard God Laughing – Renderings of Hafiz – Daniel Ladinsky
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I don’t know if you’re alive or dead

I don’t know if you’re alive or dead.
Can you on earth be sought,
Or only when the sunsets fade
Be mourned serenely in my thought?

All is for you: the daily prayer,
The sleepless heat at night,
And of my verses, the white
Flock, and of my eyes, the blue fire.

No-one was more cherished, no-one tortured
Me more, not
Even the one who betrayed me to torture,
Not even the one who caressed me and forgot.

1915
~Anna Akhmatova