Hafiz: Sufi and Spiritual Teacher (1320-1389)

My husband and I have the prefect bookstore ritual.  We separate, each to our own preferred section of the shop, and amass a stack of books.  Next, we meet and share--weighing out the merits of each selection in order to whittle it down to just one book each.  We are sympathetic souls.  Neither of us is above encouraging the other to purchase the more expensive choice.  "It's just the difference of a few dollars." (When maybe it's not.) Last date, he and I ate samosas under a tree.  Then, to the bookstore we went.  After debating between Billy Collin's The Apple that Astonished Paris and A Year With Hafiz by Daniel Ladinsky, I decided on Hafiz.   Oh, Hafiz.  Let me tell you about him.

Hafiz couldn't have planned his entrance into the world any better.   The Barnes and Noble of fourteenth century Persia had the poetry section right smack dab in the middle, where they sell the nooks.  The Persians loved their poets and rightfully so.  We remember their greatness across time and water.  Rumi is the poet we are most familiar with.  He died about a half century before Hafiz was born.  And although everyone knows and loves Rumi, he has never spoken to my soul. But Hafiz--outrageous, quirky, smart--he's my Persian baby.  At first I thought I must be in love with Daniel Ladinsky, the translator, so I read some of Ladinsky's work with Rumi's poems.  Nope, it's not (just) Ladinsky.   It's the spirit of Hafiz I love revealed to me through Ladinsky's excellent translations. 

  Fast pace relationships work well with dead poets.  You can push as much as want, and they never get turned off.  Ladinsky's book is a poem a day for a year.  I was in October by day four.  I always have a pencil in hand so that I can make a topical index. It gives me a better idea of the themes and scope of the poet's work.   This is what I discovered about Hafiz: Not surprisingly, he writes about God but also about nature, marriage, poetry, love, beauty, and sorrow.  He's a friendly bloke, but  he still manages to punch you in the gut with his perspicacity. He reminds me of my real life lover.  Maybe that’s why I fell so deeply for Hafiz.

ONCE A YOUNG WOMAN SAID TO ME

Once a young woman said to me

what is the sign of someone who knows God?"

I became very quiet, and looked deep into her

eyes, then replied,

"My dear, they have dropped the knife. Someone

who knows God has dropped the cruel knife

that most often use upon their tender self

and others."

HOW DO I LISTEN?

How do I listen to others?  As if 

everyone were my Master speaking

to me his cherished last words.

How do I listen to you?  As if 

you were the Alpha and Omega of all 

sound.

WHO WANTS THOSE?

I am at juncture now where I never have to

be serious again.

If I act that way--sober and concerned about

something. . . it is just a charade.

For people who are serious, well, let's face it. . .

they seem to have lots of problems.

And who wants those?

                                                                                                                                                              -the spirit of Hafiz

                                                                                                                             (It's hard to hold up that big Scottish head.)

FIND A BETTER JOB

Now that all your worry has proved such an

unlucrative business. . .why not find a better

job?

And while you are at it, scouting about town

and fine tuning your resume, maybe light a 

candle in some church.

ALL THE HEMISPHERES

Leave the familiar for a while. Let your senses

and body stretch out

Like a welcomed season on two meadows and

shores and hills.

Open up to the roof. Make a new watermark

on your excitement and love.

Like a blooming night flower, bestow your vital

fragrance of happiness and giving upon our

intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day. All the

hemispheres in existence lie beside an equator

in your soul.

Greet yourself in your thousand other forms as

you mount the hidden tide and travel back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven are setting around

a campfire chatting, while

stitching themselves together into the great circle

inside of you.

Read more Hafiz