Tag: wisdom

  • The Wizard Lyrics

    Song Lyrics on Allspirit

    Uriah Heep

    From the Album Demons And Wizards

    He was the wizard
    Of a thousand kings
    And I chanced to meet him
    One night wandering
    He told me tales
    And he drank my wine
    Me and my magic man
    Kinda feeling fine

    He had a cloak of gold
    And eyes of fire
    And as he spoke
    I felt a deep desire
    To free the world
    Of its fear and pain
    And help the people
    To feel free again

    Why don’t we listen to
    The voices in our hearts
    cause then I know wed find
    Were not so far apart
    Everybody’s got to be happy
    Everyone should sing
    For we know the joy of life
    The peace that love can bring

    So spoke the wizard
    In his mountain home
    The vision of his wisdom
    Means well never be alone
    And I will dream of my magic night
    And a million silver stars
    That guide me with their light

    Index of Lyrics on Allspirit

     

  • Desire and the Importance of Failing

    By Rumi

    A window opens.
    A curtain pulls back.

    The lamp of lovers connect,
    not at their ceramic bases,
    but in their lightedness.

    No lover wants union with the Beloved
    without the Beloved also wanting the lover.

    Love makes the lover weak,
    while the Beloved gets strong.

    Lightning from here strikes there.
    When you begin to love God, God
    is loving you. A clapping sound
    does not come from one hand.

    A thirsty man calls out, ‘Delicious water,
    where are you?’ while the water moans,
    ‘Where is the water drinker?’

    The thirst in our souls is the attraction
    put out by the Water itself.

    We belong to It,
    and It to us.

    God’s wisdom made us lovers of one another.
    In fact, all the particles of the world
    are in love and looking for lovers.

    Pieces of straw tremble
    in the presence of amber.

    We tremble like iron filings
    welcoming the magnet.

    Whatever that Presence gives us
    we take in. Earth signs feed.
    Water signs wash and freshen.
    Air signs clear the atmosphere.
    Fire signs jiggle the skillet,
    so we cook without getting burnt.

    And the Holy Spirit helps with everything,
    like a young man trying to support a family.
    We, like the man’s young wife, stay home,
    taking care of the house, nursing the children.

    Spirit and matter work together like this,
    in a division of labor.

    Sweethearts kiss and taste the delight
    before they slip into bed and mate.

    The desire of each lover is
    that the work of the other be perfected.
    By this man-and-woman cooperation,
    the world gets preserved.
    Generation occurs.

    Roses and blue arghawan flowers flower.
    Night and day meet in a mutual hug.

    So different, but they do love each other,
    the day and the night, like family.

    And without their mutual alternation
    we would have no energy.

    Every part of the cosmos is draws toward its mate.
    The ground keeps talking to the body,
    saying, ‘Come back! It’s better for you
    down here where you came from.’

    The streamwater calls to the moisture in the body.
    The fiery aether whispers to the body’s heat,
    ‘I am your origin. Come with me.’
    Seventy-two diseases are caused
    by the various elements pulling inside the body.
    Disease comes, and the organs
    fall out of harmony.

    We’re like four different birds,
    that each had one leg tied in
    with the other birds.

    A flopping bouguet of birds!
    Death releases the binding, and they fly off,
    but before that, their pulling is our pain.

    Consider how the soul must be,
    in the midst of these tensions,
    feeling its own exalted pull.

    My longing is more profound.
    The birds want sweet green herbs
    and the water running by.

    I want the infinite! I want wisdom.
    These birds want orchards and meadows
    and vines with fruit on them.

    I want a vast expansion.
    They want profit and security
    of having enough food.

    Remember what the soul wants,
    because in that, eternity
    is wanting our souls!

    Which is the meaning of the text,
    They love That, and That loves them.

    If I keep on explaining this,
    the Mathnawi will run to eighty volumes!

    The gist is: whatever anyone seeks,
    that is seeking the seeker.

    No matter if its animal,
    or vegetable, or mineral.

    Every bit of the universe
    is filled with wanting,
    and whatever any bit wants,
    wants the wanter!

    This subject must dissolve again.

    Back to Sadri Jahan and the uneducated peasant
    who loved him, so that gradually Sadri Jahan
    loved the lowly man. But who really
    attracted who, whoom, Huuuu?

    Don’t be presumptuous and say one or the other.
    Close your lips. The mystery of loving
    is God’s sweetest secret.

    Keep it. Bury it. Leave it here
    where I leave it, drawn as I am
    by the pull of the Puller
    to something else.

    You know how it is. Sometimes
    we plan a trip to one place,
    but something takes us to another.

    When a horse is being broken, the trainer
    pulls it in many different directions,
    so the horse will come to know
    what it is to be ridden.

    The most beautiful and alert horse is one
    completely attuned to the rider.

    God fixes a passionate desire in you,
    and then disappoints you.
    God does that a hundred times!

    God breaks the wings of one intention
    and then gives you another,
    cuts the rope of contriving,
    so you’ll remember your dependence.

    But sometimes your plans work out!
    You feel fulfilled and in control.

    That’s because, if you were always failing,
    you might give up. But remember,
    it is by failures that lovers
    stay aware of how they are loved.

    Failure is the key
    to the kingdom within.

    Your prayer should be, “Break the legs
    of what I want to happen. Humiliate
    my desire. Eat me like candy.
    It’s spring and finally
    I have no will.”

    (Mathnawi, III, 4391 – 4472)

    From: Feeling the Shoulder of the Lion
    Translated by Coleman Barks

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  • Silence

    By Edgar Lee Masters

    I have known the silence of the stars and of the sea,
    And the silence of the city when it pauses,
    And the silence of a man and a maid,
    And the silence for which music alone finds the word,
    And the silence of the woods before the winds of spring begin,
    And the silence of the sick
    When their eyes roam about the room.
    And I ask: For the depths
    Of what use is language?
    A beast of the field moans a few times
    When death takes its young
    And we are voiceless in the presence of realities —
    We cannot speak.

    A curious boy asks an old soldier
    Sitting in front of the grocery store,
    “How did you lose your leg?”
    And the old soldier is struck with silence,
    Or his mind flies away
    Because he cannot concentrate it on Gettysburg.
    It comes back jocosely
    And he says, “A bear bit it off.”
    And the boy wonders, while the old soldier
    Dumbly, feebly lives over
    The flashes of guns, the thunder of cannon,
    The shrieks of the slain,
    And himself lying on the ground,
    And the hospital surgeons, the knives,
    And the long days in bed.
    But if he could describe it all
    He would be an artist.
    But if he were an artist there would be deeper wounds
    Which he could not describe.

    There is the silence of a great hatred,
    And the silence of a great love,
    And the silence of a deep peace of mind,
    And the silence of an embittered friendship,
    There is the silence of a spiritual crisis,
    Through which your soul, exquisitely tortured,
    Comes with visions not to be uttered
    Into a realm of higher life.
    And the silence of the gods who understand each other
    without speech,
    There is the silence of defeat.
    There is the silence of those unjustly punished;
    And the silence of the dying whose hand
    Suddenly grips yours.
    There is the silence between father and son,
    When the father cannot explain his life,
    Even though he be misunderstood for it.

    There is the silence that comes between husband and wife.
    There is the silence of those who have failed;
    And the vast silence that covers
    Broken nations and vanquished leaders.
    There is the silence of Lincoln,
    Thinking of the poverty of his youth.
    And the silence of Napoleon
    After Waterloo.
    And the silence of Jeanne d’Arc
    Saying amid the flames, “Blessed Jesus” —
    Revealing in two words all sorrow, all hope.
    And there is the silence of age,
    Too full of wisdom for the tongue to utter it
    In words intelligible to those who have not lived
    The great range of life.

    And there is the silence of the dead.
    If we who are in life cannot speak
    Of profound experiences,
    Why do you marvel that the dead
    Do not tell you of death?
    Their silence shall be interpreted
    As we approach them.

     

    Read more poems from Edgar Lee Masters

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  • A Visit From Wisdom

    Kahlil Gibran

    In the stillness of night Wisdom came and stood
    by my bed. She gazed upon me like a tender mother
    and wiped away my tears, and said : “I have heard
    the cry of your spirit and I am come to comfort it.
    Open your heart to me and I shall fill it with light.
    Ask of me and I shall show you the way of truth.”

    And I said : “Who am I, Wisdom, and how came
    I to this frightening place? What manner of things
    are these mighty hopes and these many books and
    strange patterns ? What are these thoughts that pass
    as doves in flight? And these words composed by
    desire and sung by delight, what are they? What are
    these conclusions, grievous and joyous, that embrace
    my spirit and envelop my heart? And those
    eyes which look at me seeing into my depths and
    fleeing from my sorrows ? And those voices mourning
    my days and chanting my littleness, what are they ?

    “What is this youth that plays with my desires
    and mocks at my longings, forgetful of yesterday’s
    deeds, rejoicing in paltry things of the moment,
    scornful of the morrow’s coming?

    “What is this world that leads me whither I know
    not, standing with me in despising? And this earth
    that opens wide its mouth to swallow bodies and
    lets evil things to dwell on its breast? What is this
    creature that is satisfied with the love of fortune,
    whilst beyond its union is the pit? Who seeks Life’s
    kiss whilst Death does smite him, and brings the
    pleasure of a minute with a year of repentance, and
    gives himself to slumber the while dreams call him?
    What is he who flows with the rivers of folly to the
    sea of darkness? O Wisdom, what manner of things
    are these?”

    And she answered, saying :
    “You would see, human creature, this world
    through the eyes of a god. And you would seek to
    know the secrets of the hereafter with the thinking
    of men. Yet in truth is this the height of folly.
    “Go you to the wild places and you shall find
    there the bee above the flowers and behold the eagle
    swooping down on his prey. Go you into your neighbor’s
    house and see then the child blinking at the
    firelight and his mother busied at her household
    tasks. Be you like the bee and spend not the days of
    spring looking on the eagle’s doing. Be as the child
    and rejoice in the firelight and heed not your mother’s
    affairs. All that you see with your eyes was and
    is for your sake.

    “The many books and the strange patterns and
    beautiful thoughts are the shades of those spirits
    that came ere you were come. The words that you
    do weave are a bond between you and your brothers.
    The conclusions, grievous and joyous, are the
    seeds that the past did scatter in the field of the
    spirit to be reaped by the future. That youth who
    plays with your desires is he who will open the door
    of your heart to let enter the light. This earth with
    the ever open mouth is the savior of your spirit from
    the body’s slavery. This world which walks with
    you is your heart; and your heart is all that you
    think that world. This creature whom you see as
    ignorant and small is the same who has come from
    God’s side to learn pity through sadness, and knowledge
    by way of darkness.”

    Then Wisdom put her hand on my burning brow
    and said :
    “Go then forward and do not tarry, for before
    walks perfection. Go, and have not fear of thorns
    on the path, for they deem naught lawful save corrupted blood.”

    Read moreĀ  Kahlil Gibran poems

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