Ah Sunflower

Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller's journey is done;

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sunflower wishes to go!

A Little Boy's Dream

To and fro, to and fro
In my little boat I go
Sailing far across the sea
All alone, just little me.
And the sea is big and strong
And the journey very long.
To and fro, to and fro
In my little boat I go.

Sea and sky, sea and sky,

Farewell

I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers!
I bow to you all and take my departure.

Here I give back the keys of my door
---and I give up all claims to my house.
I only ask for last kind words from you.

We were neighbors for long,
but I received more than I could give.
Now the day has dawned

Reality

In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
How can you describe the true form of Something
In whose presence you are blotted out?
And in whose being you still exist?
And who lives as a sign for your journey?

Journey Home

The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long.

I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my
voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet.

It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself,
and that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune.

The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own,
and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.

Black Stone On Top Of A White Stone

I shall die in Paris, in a rainstorm,
On a day I already remember.
I shall die in Paris- it does not bother me-
Doubtless on a Thursday, like today, in autumn.

It shall be a Thursday, because today, Thursday
As I put down these lines, I have set my shoulders
To the evil. Never like today have I turned,
And headed my whole journey to the ways where I am alone.

Basho's Death Poem

Sick on my journey,
only my dreams will wander
these desolate moors

With Ships The Sea Was Sprinkled Far And Nigh

With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh,
Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed;
Some lying fast at anchor in the road,
Some veering up and down, one knew not why.
A goodly vessel did I then espy
Come like a giant from a haven broad;
And lustily along the bay she strode,
Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.
The ship was nought to me, nor I to her,
Yet I pursued her with a lover's look;

The Journey

Underneath the infinite sky,
above the ovoid earth,
anxiously,
he began his journey,
the journey to find answers
to questions brimmed,
perpetually in his head.

With each mile he crossed,
the more he explored,

A Golden Sphere

A golden sphere is lifting up so slowly in the east,
The eye is looking towards it, and seeing such a feast,
Blazing with bands of colour, and giving a wondrous heat,
A view that to each observer, is something so complete.

The sphere goes on its journey, and starts slowly rising,
In different coloured guises, it begins such advertising,
Above the trees and fields, of this silent waiting land,
With a spectacle so splendid, so magnificent and grand.

Autumn Friends

If one could bridge the distance with a word,
A journey would become a pilgrimage.
Elegant letters slant across the page.
My leaf has found a home upon your coat.

My kind critic, I think it is our fate
To meet in stanzas of my poetry.
Simile and metaphor must be our bond
Until autumn blows one of us away.

I Will Not Cry

I will not cry for satisfaction if I could get my choice,
Among the divine beautiful virgins of heaven, I want only you.

After killing me, do not bury me in your street,
Why should people know your home address with my reference.

Be chivalrous for you are the wine bearer (beloved) , or else I
use to drink as much wine as I get every night.

I have no business with you but O! dear friend,

Provisions

What should we have taken
with us? We never could decide
on that; or what to wear,
or at what time of
year we should make the journey

So here we are in thin
raincoats and rubber boots

On the disastrous ice, the wind rising

The Insect

From your hips down to your feet
I want to make a long journey.

I am smaller than an insect.

Over these hills I pass,
hills the colour of oats,
crossed with faint tracks
that only I know,
scorched centimetres,

The Gloom That Breathes Upon Me With These Airs

The gloom that breathes upon me with these airs
Is like the drops which stike the traveller's brow
Who knows not, darkling, if they bring him now
Fresh storm, or be old rain the covert bears.
Ah! bodes this hour some harvest of new tares,
Or hath but memory of the day whose plough
Sowed hunger once, -- the night at length when thou,
O prayer found vain, didst fall from out my prayers?

How prickly were the growths which yet how smooth,

The Treasure Of Life

Life is a journey
A journey of time
Where a heart needs another
To give it a shine

We're all on a journey
With two paths to take
One that is right
And the one that can break

Conference Of The Birds

'Attar began The Conference of the Birds (Mantiq al-tair) with an invocation praising the holy Creator in which he suggested that one must live a hundred lives to know oneself; but you must know God by the deity, not by yourself, for God opens the way, not human wisdom. 'Attar believed that God is beyond all human knowledge. The soul will manifest itself when the body is laid aside. One cannot gain spiritual knowledge without dying to all things. When the birds assemble, they wonder why they have no king. The Hoopoe presents herself as a messenger from the invisible world with knowledge of God and the secrets of creation. She recommends Simurgh as their true king, saying that one of his feathers fell on China.

My Poetry Journey

My poetry journey is nothing and nowhere to go
Without leaving a word or two
I need a companion along the way
With you in my thoughts each day

In this square box i learned a lot and send
To click, read and comment and bend
Making someone happy and heaven sent
Learning, loving, inspiring and content

This Last Journey Into Darkness

.
I am beginning this last journey
with a heart that is heavy
and a heart that is full of fear
I fear the helplessness that is coming
.
I fear the memories that will fall to the wayside
where there are dark-eyed crows waiting to peck holes in my soul
where there are jackals prowling around looking for identities to devour
I fear the darkness that is coming

Twenty Four Years

Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes.
(Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour.)
In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailor
Sewing a shroud for a journey
By the light of the meat-eating sun.
Dressed to die, the sensual strut begun,
With my red veins full of money,
In the final direction of the elementary town
I advance as long as forever is.