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Poetry, literature that evokes a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience or a specific emotional response through language chosen and arranged for its meaning, sound, and rhythm.
Be Thankful Be thankful that you don’t already have everything you desire, If you did, what would there be to look forward to? Be thankful when you don’t know something For it gives you the opportunity to learn. Be thankful for the difficult times. During those times you grow. Be...
What is Poetry? Poetry (“making”) is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and rhythmic[1][2][3] qualities of language—such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre—to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, the prosaic ostensible meaning. Poetry has a very long history, dating back to prehistorical times with the creation of hunting poetry in Africa, and panegyric and elegiac court poetry was developed...
Young man, Give some thought to the terrible maladies, now a century old, that afflict this society on every side. There is no remedy known for such fainting hearts and feverish minds: crowds in the street shouting for no reason; people, become like fish in the aquarium, Blundering anywhere in...
>In its entirety the universe is a supreme proof; it declares God’s glory and unity with both its manifest and its unseen tongues. Yes, it recites the unity of the Most Merciful in resounding voice, saying: THERE IS NO GOD BUT HE! All its particles and cells, all its parts...
>About twenty-five years ago on Yûsha Tepesi (Mount Joshua) above the Istanbul Bosphorus, at a time I had decided to give up the world, a number of important friends came to me in order to call me back to the world and my former position. I told them to leave...
>Then listen to the stars, listen to their harmonious address!See what wisdom has emblazed on the decree of its light! * * * Altogether they start to speak with the tongue of truth,They address the majesty of the All-Powerful One of Glory’s sovereignty: * * * We are each of...
[The Old Said spoke this with the tongue of the New Said under the blessed mulberry tree.] The one I’m addressing isn’t Ziya Pasha, it’s those enamored of Europe.The one speaking isn’t my soul, it’s my heart in the name of the students of the Holy Book. * * *...
>For man this world is like a foreign land, a fearful ocean, where he flounders a whole lifetime among waves of anxiety. At every step and every station, he expects a dawn of hope to break; Morning begins with pains, evening comes with the hopes of union. Over and again,...
>An eternal ‘textile’ woven with silk threads, pure as rain, cool as the shade of clouds; its colour and design address all the worlds, unstained white like the river of milk in Paradise… Not a transient hope, but peace everlasting, from which begin all roads leading souls to heaven. A...
>One night I had a vision of the future so bright; There was a peaceful silence and was pouring light upon light. Things were being done with the precision of clockwork; Centuries-old confusions disappeared one after the other. All were respectful to each other and behaved in sincerity; Water of...
>What imaginations those coming to this world nourish! Imaginations as sweet as the joy felt at religious festivals! And yet the first step taken into the world is also the first step those who have come to the world take toward the Last Abode. At the same time as a...
>As I mentioned you again, nothing else remained in my memory; I imagined you travelling on the hills of my heart. A mirage, I know, but it sufficed to calm the anguish of my heart. As I mentioned you again, nothing else remained in my memory. I wish I could...
>Young man, Give some thought to the terrible maladies, now a century old, that afflict this societyon every side. There is no remedy known for such fainting hearts and feverish minds:crowds in the street shouting for no reason; people, become like fish in the aquarium, Blundering anywhere in aimless confusion-...
>Tears are poetry whose words are written in drops, expressing joy and grief, hope and despair. When consumed with pangs of separation, melting like candle, man breathes in tears and speaks in tears. * * * A time comes when man rejoices child-like with tears of joy, as he sees...
>Absence of belief is like absence of light, a dark night never relieved; it snares the unbeliever in a wild solitude, wretched in spirit, facing a stride away the blackness where all his ways come to dead end, where the light he can bring to bear, his only light, is...
>When it is dark, souls busy themselves with afterlife, on the horizon nights appear to meet with Beloved. Negative and positive poles join at the same point from which rays of light pouring everywhere. * * * Eyes are illumined, hearts beat in unison; what is unknown comes to be...
>A faded adventure experienced with weary eyes. Sound of leaves, beating in the ear with the force of strong, cold winds: A music of fall… * * * The roses of poetical spring weep everywhere; Colors are plaintive. Nightingales in quiet lands lament: Single melancholy notes. * * * Fountains...
