The self asks me who I am

The pomegranate tree symbolizes wealth. The oak tree stands alone with dignity for strength. The pine tree speaks of eternal love and the willow tree is a water-loving tree that symbolizes regeneration and signifies emotional balance.

The self asks me who I am is written by Nazik al-Mala’ika. I have archived it from ‘I am’, Women of the Fertile Crescent: An Anthology of Modern Poetry by Arab Women. Edited and translated by Kamal Boullata, a Palestinian artist and art historian.

That discomfort that you are feeling. Its a sign that its a time to grow. Do it compeltely. Do less. Live simply.

I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put in words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.

Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

There once was a Willow, and he was very old,
And all his leaves fell off from him, and left him in the cold;
But ere the rude winter could buffet him with snow,
There grew upon his hoary head a crop of mistletoe.
All wrinkled and furrowed was this old Willow’s skin,
His taper finger trembled, and his arms were very thin;
Two round eyes and hollow, that stared but did not see;
And sprawling feet that never walked, had this most ancient tree.
~Julianna Horatia Ewing, “The Willow Man”

In J. R. R. Tolkien’s fantasy The Lord of the Rings, Old Man Willow is a malign tree-spirit of great age in Tom Bombadil’s Old Forest, appearing physically as a large willow tree beside the River Withywindle, but spreading his influence throughout the forest.

The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us.

The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us. Thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing. The trees wave and the flowers bloom in our bodies as well as our souls, and every bird song, wind song, and tremendous storm song of the rocks in the heart of the mountains is our song, our very own, and sings our love.

John Muir

Thank you for reading.

Rumi Quotes

‘This is love: to fly toward a secret sky,
to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.
First, to let go of life.
In the end, to take a step without feet.’

‘Both light and shadow are the dance of Love.
Love has no cause, it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets.
Lover and loving are inseparable and timeless.
Every moment is made glorious by the light of Love.’

‘There is no salvation for the soul
but to fall in Love.
Only lovers can escape
out of these two worlds.
This was ordained in creation.
Only from the heart
can you reach the sky:
The Rose of Glory
can grow only from the heart.’

‘We rarely hear the inward music,
but we’re all dancing to it nevertheless
directed by the one who teaches us,
the pure joy of the sun,
our music master.’

Come, come, whoever you are.

“Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn’t matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again , come , come.”

These are my nieces, sheeza and mahnoor.
I am sharing their photo first time on this blog.
Hope you like them.
stay bless.

Blessed Glance | Mystic Poem

Blessed Glance
“You’ve taken away
my looks,
my identity,
by just a Glance.
By making me drink
the wine of love-potion,
You’ve intoxicated me
by just a Glance.
My fair, delicate wrists
with green bangles in them,
Have been held tightly by You with just a Glance.
I give my life to You,
Oh my cloth-dyer,
You’ve dyed me in Yourself,
by just a Glance.
I give my whole life to you Oh, Nizam,
You’ve made me your bride,
by just a Glance.”
Image Location: Multan

A desolate tree – Remains of a glorious past

“The time of spring is past,
The rose-leaves in the garden drift apart,
Among the trees the bulbul sings no more.
How long, madness, shalt thou hold my heart?
How long, exaltation, shalt thou last
Now spring is o’er ?”

From THE DIWAN OF ZEB-UN-NISSA, the eldest
daughter of the Mughul Emperor Aurungzaib.

A lonely tree at Hiran Minar, a hunting resort of Emperor Jahangir, near Sheikhupura, Its a city in the province of Punjab slightly northwest to Lahore in Pakistan. The name Sheikhupura is derived from the nick of Jahangir, who was known as Sheikhu by his father Akbar the Great.

Its a pomegranate time

Yes, the beauty of my pomegranate ( anar) tree also persists at night time.

Here is the brief history of pomegranate in Islam which help you to understand that sufi poetry I mentioned below. There is a lot of admirations for pomegranates in Islam. It linked with eternity and fertility and it is among the list of 12 foods mentioned by Prophet Muhammad (PBUH).

The pomegranate which laterally means ” seeded apple” is an ancient fruit and it is mentioned three times in The Quran Majeed.

It is stated in Surah Rehman, “In them are fruits (of all kinds), and dates and pomegranate.Then which of the favours of your Lord will you deny? “ [55:68-69]

It is also reported that one who eats three pomegranate in the course of a year will be inoculated against ophthalmia( inflammation of the eye) for that year. Its the fruit of Paradise and traditionally, it was believed to be important to eat every seed of a pomegranate, as one can’t be sure, which aril came from paradise.
The Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him)said it cleanses you of Satan and evil aspirations for forty days. ” Eat the pomegranate for it purges the system of envy and hatred.
Similarly, Hazrat Ali( R.A.) said that “the light of ALLAH is in the heart of whoever eats pomegranate.”

Pomegranates, Sufi Poetry from Pakistan:

Pomegranates, when they sing
It is sweet as rosy-nosed apples
Pears, hale and hearty
Like my grandma’s songs

May you live as the angels
Forever, like the pomegranates
That never die, unlike the
Dead that never come to life

And – when they smile
The pomegranates, it is like
No weather you know on earth
It is eternally the cloud

The perfect cloud with exactly
The kind of sunshine you saw in
Your picture book as a kid
With a rainbow

And it never feels hot or cold again
So forget the crude, vulgar types
The jokeless
It rains only when you want it to rain

Say, I am the richest, most famous
I’m the best I’m the best
I am I am
God is staying on earth tonight

Forget the cunt charmers
The heartless
Stinky beasts, smelly genitalia
It is crystal clear

God is staying on earth tonight
So He told me
Amidst the pomegranates
Everywhere at the same time

Pomegranates never die
They are roses in my grandmother’s
Where God lives

Prepared for banquets
For householders of the garden
Of spring followed by spring followed by spring
It is God’s kitchen

Where we are children
Sustained, without fire dwellers
Frozen in time, never to progress
Through God’s freezers of fire

The genitalia people
Frozen in time, smelling their genitals
And – we throw at ‘em rotten pomegranates

The fungus ones
Our diseases of old times covering their lips
Their wishes
The dirty freaks

But we have slept well
Now we only remember joy of all time
It is pomegranate time
He loves me


A Love Like That

All this time
The sun never says to the earth,

“You owe

What happens
With a love like that.
It lights the

A poem by the Sufi saint Hafiz.

Say, I Am You

Its a beautiful poem written by Rumi, a Sufi poet. This is my another post on mystic poems and also sharing a you tube video featuring some amazing collection of images accompanied by a wonderful music.

Say, I am you.

I am dust particles in sunlight.
I am the round sun.

To the bits of dust I say, Stay.
To the sun, Keep moving.

I am morning mist,
and the breathing of evening.
I am wind in the top of a grove,
and surf on the cliff.

Mast, rudder, helmsman, and keel,
I am also the coral reef they founder on.

I am a tree with a trained parrot in its branches.
Silence, thought, and voice.

The musical air coming through a flute,
a spark of stone, a flickering in metal.
Both candle and the moth crazy around it.
Rose, and the nightingale lost in the fragrance.

I am all orders of being, the circling galaxy,
the evolutionary intelligence, the lift, and the falling away.

What is, and what isn’t.

You who know, Jelaluddin,
You the one in all, say who I am.
Say I am you.

I am the One whom I love

I am the One whom I love

“I am the One whom I love, and the One whom I love is myself.
We are two souls incarnated in one body;
if you see me, you see Him,
if you see Him, you see us.”

Mansur al-Hallaj known to us as the Persian writer and he is one of the more controversial figures of Sufism. His full name was Abu al-Mughith al-Husayn ibn Mansur al-Hallaj.The name al-Hallaj means “wool carder,” probably a reference to his family’s traditional occupation.

Orthodox religious authorities took offense at his poetry and teachings, particularly the line in one of his great poems “Ana ‘l-Haqq,” which translates as “I am the Real,” but can also be translated as “I am the Truth” or “I am God.” Al-Haqq is one of the Ninety Nine Names of Allah. He was condemned by a council of theologians, imprisoned for nine years, and eventually put to death.


Poetry Chaikhana
Sacred Poetry from Around the World

This Poem is taken from poetry chaikhanna.

Mansur al-Hallaj biography

Mansur Al-Hallaj from wikkipedia

A Mystic Song of Kabir

Fearlessly I Will Sing the Attributes of the One without Attributes

Using the Base Lotus as the Steady Seat
I Will Make the Wind Rise in Reverse

Steadying the Mind’s Attachments
I Will Unify the Five Elements

Ingila, Pingala and Sukhman are the Channels
I Will Bathe at the Confluence of the Three Rivers

The Five and Twenty Five I Will Master by my Wish
And String them Together by One Common Thread

At the Summit of Aloneness the Un-struck Anahad Sound Reverberates
I Will Play the Thirty-Six Different Symphonies

Says Kabir Listen Oh Practicing Aspirant
I Will Wave the Flag of Victory


Kabir is one of the world’s great poets. For more information on Kabir visit this site. I have chose this mystic song because it is enrich in its meaning. Powerful indeed. For explanation of this poem, must visit this page.


Mystic poems always fascinates me. Thats why I have decided to share some mystic poems from all over the world in my this blog. And in my this first search, I came to know about A THOUSAND YEAR OLD BENGALI MYSTIC POETRY, as I go on reading the poems, I found myself involves in knowing about the depth of all these poems.
The story about this book is like that …

In 1907, Scholar Hariprashad Sastri, working in the Royal Archive in Nepal discovered a palm-leaf manuscript of ‘Caryagiti’, mystic poems by Bengali Buddhist poets, which were written about 700 C.E. The poems, also collectively known as the ‘Caryapada’. The discovery brought to light the oldest specimens not only of Bengali poetry but also of Indo-Aryan literature. The author Hasna Jasimuddin Moudud has done an extensive research on ‘Caryagiti’ and presented it in the book called, “A Thousand year Old Bengali Mystic Poetry.” The translation of the poems has been done by the author herself. The mystic images and the ancient Bengali script are omitted here for complexity.

My aim is to make this blog informative as much as I can. The Poem that I have selected from this book for you is Caryapada 6 and the poet name is Bhusukupada.

Poet: Bhusukupada, Raga Patamanjuri

Who have I accepted and who gave I given up?

All sides are surrounded by the cries of the hunter.

The deer’s own flesh is his enemy.

Bhusuku the hunter does not spare him for a moment.

The deer touches no green, nor drinks water.

He does not know where the doe lives.

The doe tills the deer: leave this forest, and free yourself.

Thus the deer sped for hid life, leaving no hoff marks behind.

Bhusuku says ‘this does not reach the heart of the unwise’.


“Acceptance and denouncement in life is depicted in one of the most poetic Caryas in this collection. The deer is an innocent animal who has no hatred for anyone. His enemy is his own flesh, which is the reason that he is being hunted. The deer is the Praga goddess found within himself, who shows him the way to salvation. He leaves no trail behind so that he cannot be followed by worldly claims.

The deer represents the mind, In the material life the mind wants to hold more and more. It gets hurt when it obtains material objects. As these cannot quench its thirst, it becomes unhappy. Pains attack him like the deer-hunters.

We may envisage the composer of the song, Bhusuka, surrounded by hunters, His own quality or talent is his enemy. So he stops eating and drinking, but he does not know the way to freedom. His instincts tell him to run this place like the deer, leaving no tracks behind.”


Old Bengali mystic poetry