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Love Poems from God: Inspirations from Twelve Sacred Voices of the East and West
Sacred poetry from twelve mystics and saints, rendered brilliantly by Daniel Ladinsky, beloved interpreter of verses by the fourteenth-century Persian poet HafizOne of 6 Books Oprah Loves to Give as Gifts During the Holidays“All kinds of beautiful poetry.” –Hoda KotbIn this luminous collection, Daniel Ladinsky—best known for his bestselling interpretations of the great Sufi poet Hafiz—brings together the timeless work of twelve of the world’s finest spiritual writers, six from the East and six from the West. Once again, Ladinsky reveals his talent for creating profound and playful renditions of classic poems for a modern audience.Rumi’s joyous, ecstatic love poems; St. Francis’s loving observations of nature through the eyes of Catholicism; Kabir’s wild, freeing humor that synthesizes Hindu, Muslim, and Christian beliefs; St. Teresa’s sensual verse; and the mystical, healing words of Sufi poet Hafiz—these along with inspiring works by Rabia, Meister Eckhart, St. Thomas Aquinas, Mira, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and Tukaram are all “love poems by God” from writers considered “conduits of the divine.” Together, they form a spiritual treasure to cherish always.
402 pages, Kindle Edition
First published April 30, 2002
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November 7, 2021
I was in a Costco, about five years ago, when I ran into a former spiritual teacher of mine and she mentioned that she was offering “study intensives” of the mystic poets. She squeezed my arm playfully (this was before we stopped touching other people), and said, “I'd love for you to join us, Julie, but I know you're a writer, and I want to make it clear that this isn't literary analysis.” We both had a little laugh about that.
To be honest, I wasn't sure how I was going to respond to the “mystic poets,” but, next thing I knew, I was signing up for every class. We started with Rumi, worked our way to Meister Eckhart, then made it over to Hafiz (Hafez). . . whose work became, almost overnight, one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
I am now devoted to Hafiz's writings, and so is this author/translator, Daniel Ladinsky. The bulk of his career has been spent translating Hafiz's work to modern “interpretations” that sometimes include the mention of a tv, or a more current public icon. He maintains the “colors” and message of the original writings, but he does add modern touches that may delight certain readers and confuse others.
I love his interpretations, and one of his other books, A Year with Hafiz: Daily Contemplations is one of probably five books in my library that I would run through a burning building to retrieve. I decided to put it down for a bit to give another work of his, this one, Love Poems From God, a chance, and expose myself to 12 different mystic poets, men and women who were, collectively: prophets, saints, and rebels.
Ladinsky writes of his motivation for compiling this particular collection:
I think God loves bootleggers—defiant poets who ferment the air as they sing and lift the corners of our mouths. Words about God should never bore because God is the opposite of boring. . . Whoever made this universe is a Wild Guy. I think only our ecstasies offer any real clues about Him.
Wow. I couldn't agree more.
“Mystic poets” have come from all parts of our world, from all times, and they have devoted their lives to meditation, prayer, and silence. Almost every one of them, in their lifetime, suffered one or more of the following: rape, poverty, abandonment, starvation, imprisonment, death of family members, or religious persecution. Meaning: they weren't writing from the mountain tops, apart from the world. They were bruised, broken, battered, and repaired. Their work is surprisingly humorous, sensual, petulant, and often stunning.
I prefer to present this work in a way that is devoid of any spiritual sentiment of my own (or literary analysis!). I have also decided to include one short favorite piece from each of the mystics/poets/prophets/saints/rebels. Consider them appetizers, listed in chronological order:
From Rabia of Basra (c.717-801):
Since no one really knows anything about God,
those who think they do are just
troublemakers.
From St. Francis of Assisi (Francis Bernardone, 1182-1226):
We are all in mourning for the experience
of our essence we knew and now miss. Light
is the cure, all else a placebo.
Yes, I will console any creature before me
that is not laughing or full of passion
for their art or life; for laughing and passion—
beauty and joy—is our heart's truth, all else is labor
and foreign to the soul.
From Rumi (Jalaludin Rumi, 1207-1273):
With
passion pray. With
passion work. With passion make love.
With passion eat and drink and dance and play.
Why look like a dead fish
in this ocean
of
God?
From Meister Eckhart (1260-1328):
It is a lie—any talk of God
that does not
comfort
you.
From St. Thomas Aquinas (Thomas Aquinas, 1225-1274):
And in the
meadows my spirit becomes so quiet
that if I put my cheek against the earth's body
I feel the pulse of God.
“Tell me the way you do that, birds--
enter the private chambers of my Lord.”
And they all sang,
they just sang.
I gathered it was time to become a musician,
and I did.
From Hafiz (Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz, c.1320-1389):
Even
after
all this time
the sun never says to the earth,
“You owe me.”
Look
what happens
with a love like that--
it lights the whole
world.
From St. Catherine of Siena (1347-1380):
God cannot leave us.
It is just that our soul is so vast,
we do not always feel His lips
upon the
veil.
From Kabir (c.1440-1518):
The world has its pants on backwards.
Most carry their values and knowledge in a jug
that has a big hole in it.
Thus having a clear grasp of the situation
if I am asked anything these days
I just laugh!
From Mira (Mirabai, c.1498-1550):
Don't forget love;
it will bring all the madness you need
to unfurl yourself across
the universe.
From St. Teresa of Avila (Teresa of Avila, 1515-1582):
Light baptizes life wherever it falls,
and every religion and all upon this earth
is a shadow.
A shadow may move but it has no real power of its own,
though it can affect the weak and frighten them, and men can use
that darkness to exploit others.
As I found the source of all we do, as I found the
source of all our desires, so humble God became
He admitted, “Yes, I caused
all things.”
From St. John of the Cross (Juan de Yepes y Alvarez, 1542-1591):
I said to God,
“What are you?” And He replied,
“I am what is loved. I am not what should be loved
for how cruel that would then
be for my bride.”
From Tukaram (c.1608-1649):
We are too shrewd to trade something for nothing.
Death to the ego—trading down—are you a madman?
No one kicks a good lover out of bed
unless they know they got
two more on the way over.
To be honest, I wasn't sure how I was going to respond to the “mystic poets,” but, next thing I knew, I was signing up for every class. We started with Rumi, worked our way to Meister Eckhart, then made it over to Hafiz (Hafez). . . whose work became, almost overnight, one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
I am now devoted to Hafiz's writings, and so is this author/translator, Daniel Ladinsky. The bulk of his career has been spent translating Hafiz's work to modern “interpretations” that sometimes include the mention of a tv, or a more current public icon. He maintains the “colors” and message of the original writings, but he does add modern touches that may delight certain readers and confuse others.
I love his interpretations, and one of his other books, A Year with Hafiz: Daily Contemplations is one of probably five books in my library that I would run through a burning building to retrieve. I decided to put it down for a bit to give another work of his, this one, Love Poems From God, a chance, and expose myself to 12 different mystic poets, men and women who were, collectively: prophets, saints, and rebels.
Ladinsky writes of his motivation for compiling this particular collection:
I think God loves bootleggers—defiant poets who ferment the air as they sing and lift the corners of our mouths. Words about God should never bore because God is the opposite of boring. . . Whoever made this universe is a Wild Guy. I think only our ecstasies offer any real clues about Him.
Wow. I couldn't agree more.
“Mystic poets” have come from all parts of our world, from all times, and they have devoted their lives to meditation, prayer, and silence. Almost every one of them, in their lifetime, suffered one or more of the following: rape, poverty, abandonment, starvation, imprisonment, death of family members, or religious persecution. Meaning: they weren't writing from the mountain tops, apart from the world. They were bruised, broken, battered, and repaired. Their work is surprisingly humorous, sensual, petulant, and often stunning.
I prefer to present this work in a way that is devoid of any spiritual sentiment of my own (or literary analysis!). I have also decided to include one short favorite piece from each of the mystics/poets/prophets/saints/rebels. Consider them appetizers, listed in chronological order:
From Rabia of Basra (c.717-801):
Since no one really knows anything about God,
those who think they do are just
troublemakers.
From St. Francis of Assisi (Francis Bernardone, 1182-1226):
We are all in mourning for the experience
of our essence we knew and now miss. Light
is the cure, all else a placebo.
Yes, I will console any creature before me
that is not laughing or full of passion
for their art or life; for laughing and passion—
beauty and joy—is our heart's truth, all else is labor
and foreign to the soul.
From Rumi (Jalaludin Rumi, 1207-1273):
With
passion pray. With
passion work. With passion make love.
With passion eat and drink and dance and play.
Why look like a dead fish
in this ocean
of
God?
From Meister Eckhart (1260-1328):
It is a lie—any talk of God
that does not
comfort
you.
From St. Thomas Aquinas (Thomas Aquinas, 1225-1274):
And in the
meadows my spirit becomes so quiet
that if I put my cheek against the earth's body
I feel the pulse of God.
“Tell me the way you do that, birds--
enter the private chambers of my Lord.”
And they all sang,
they just sang.
I gathered it was time to become a musician,
and I did.
From Hafiz (Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz, c.1320-1389):
Even
after
all this time
the sun never says to the earth,
“You owe me.”
Look
what happens
with a love like that--
it lights the whole
world.
From St. Catherine of Siena (1347-1380):
God cannot leave us.
It is just that our soul is so vast,
we do not always feel His lips
upon the
veil.
From Kabir (c.1440-1518):
The world has its pants on backwards.
Most carry their values and knowledge in a jug
that has a big hole in it.
Thus having a clear grasp of the situation
if I am asked anything these days
I just laugh!
From Mira (Mirabai, c.1498-1550):
Don't forget love;
it will bring all the madness you need
to unfurl yourself across
the universe.
From St. Teresa of Avila (Teresa of Avila, 1515-1582):
Light baptizes life wherever it falls,
and every religion and all upon this earth
is a shadow.
A shadow may move but it has no real power of its own,
though it can affect the weak and frighten them, and men can use
that darkness to exploit others.
As I found the source of all we do, as I found the
source of all our desires, so humble God became
He admitted, “Yes, I caused
all things.”
From St. John of the Cross (Juan de Yepes y Alvarez, 1542-1591):
I said to God,
“What are you?” And He replied,
“I am what is loved. I am not what should be loved
for how cruel that would then
be for my bride.”
From Tukaram (c.1608-1649):
We are too shrewd to trade something for nothing.
Death to the ego—trading down—are you a madman?
No one kicks a good lover out of bed
unless they know they got
two more on the way over.
May 17, 2009
I'm not much of a reader of religious poetry unless you count Rumi or Hafiz. But, my boss gave me this book ages ago, and I was enchanted from the beginning.
Little trinkets from Rumi, Hafiz, Mira, Rabia, and Tukaram. Endless pages are dogeared and marked and starred and highlighted - I've read this book a hundred times.... each time I love it more.
I love this one by Tukaram:
"I think the moon
is pregnant again
I
hope she won't
sue me
this
time"
Little trinkets from Rumi, Hafiz, Mira, Rabia, and Tukaram. Endless pages are dogeared and marked and starred and highlighted - I've read this book a hundred times.... each time I love it more.
I love this one by Tukaram:
"I think the moon
is pregnant again
I
hope she won't
sue me
this
time"
June 15, 2020
https://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opi...
What editor allows this man to publish his own poetry as though it was a translation of a famous poet whose language the author does not even know?
What editor allows this man to publish his own poetry as though it was a translation of a famous poet whose language the author does not even know?
April 26, 2014
This beautiful book came my way recently. What a wondrous new opportunity to listen in on these twelve voices in their interactions with God. So far I have been listening to Rabia of Basra (c. 717-801), a much revered Islamic saint who was sold into slavery at a young age and forced live and work in a brothel until she was finally freed at age 50.
It is possible to see traces of this history in many of her writings, which speak of living with beauty and dignity in the midst of the strange places we may find that God has placed us. She gently hints at the freedom that comes from learning to love all those things that frighten us. She speaks always of God as her Lover and her Beloved and she says "I still longed to kiss Him, even when God said 'Could you also kiss the hand that caused each scar, for you will not find me until you do.'"
Some of her poetry is rather shocking when I think about what it might have meant in the context of her life. I don't think I would dare to say the things that she says. I would never expect someone to forgive what she forgave, but I am nonetheless in awe of the beauty that she forged out of her suffering.
The Way the Forest Shelters
I know about love the way the fields know about light,
the way the forest shelters.
The way an animal's divine raw desire seeks to unite with
whatever might please its soul--without a single
strange thought
of remorse.
There is a powerful delegation within us
that lobbies every moment for
contentment.
How will you ever find peace
unless you yield to love
the way the gracious earth
does to our hand's
impulse.
Although she finds peace in accepting the suffering that she cannot avoid, she does not let God off the hook either:
I Hope God Thinks Like That
There is a dog I sometimes take for a walk
and turn loose in a field.
When I can't give her that freedom
I feel in debt.
I hope God thinks like that and
is keeping track
of all the bliss
He owes
me.
I am tempted to type in all of her poems here, but I will close with one that I like because of its emphasis on finding God in the simple, everyday things:
Slicing Potatoes
It helps,
putting my hands on a pot, on a broom
in a wash
pail.
I tried painting
but it was easier to fly slicing
potatoes.
I still have 11 more sacred voices to look forward to, but I am not yet ready to leave Rabia behind.
... I was once a sleeping ocean
and in a dream became
jealous of a
pond
...
Until we know that God lives in us
and we can see Him
there,
a great poverty
we suffer.
(Am I going to get in trouble for quoting entire poems here? If so, let me know, and I will delete them. I beg your indulgence, Daniel Ladinsky and Penguin, and am ever grateful to you for bringing Rabia into my life.)
It is possible to see traces of this history in many of her writings, which speak of living with beauty and dignity in the midst of the strange places we may find that God has placed us. She gently hints at the freedom that comes from learning to love all those things that frighten us. She speaks always of God as her Lover and her Beloved and she says "I still longed to kiss Him, even when God said 'Could you also kiss the hand that caused each scar, for you will not find me until you do.'"
Some of her poetry is rather shocking when I think about what it might have meant in the context of her life. I don't think I would dare to say the things that she says. I would never expect someone to forgive what she forgave, but I am nonetheless in awe of the beauty that she forged out of her suffering.
The Way the Forest Shelters
I know about love the way the fields know about light,
the way the forest shelters.
The way an animal's divine raw desire seeks to unite with
whatever might please its soul--without a single
strange thought
of remorse.
There is a powerful delegation within us
that lobbies every moment for
contentment.
How will you ever find peace
unless you yield to love
the way the gracious earth
does to our hand's
impulse.
Although she finds peace in accepting the suffering that she cannot avoid, she does not let God off the hook either:
I Hope God Thinks Like That
There is a dog I sometimes take for a walk
and turn loose in a field.
When I can't give her that freedom
I feel in debt.
I hope God thinks like that and
is keeping track
of all the bliss
He owes
me.
I am tempted to type in all of her poems here, but I will close with one that I like because of its emphasis on finding God in the simple, everyday things:
Slicing Potatoes
It helps,
putting my hands on a pot, on a broom
in a wash
pail.
I tried painting
but it was easier to fly slicing
potatoes.
I still have 11 more sacred voices to look forward to, but I am not yet ready to leave Rabia behind.
... I was once a sleeping ocean
and in a dream became
jealous of a
pond
...
Until we know that God lives in us
and we can see Him
there,
a great poverty
we suffer.
(Am I going to get in trouble for quoting entire poems here? If so, let me know, and I will delete them. I beg your indulgence, Daniel Ladinsky and Penguin, and am ever grateful to you for bringing Rabia into my life.)
November 17, 2012
I like to read this book in the morning, before I start my day. It's so inspiring.
That is all.
:)
That is all.
:)
July 21, 2007
the absolute best thing about this book is the variety. how each of these mystics can talk along the same lines about God. i love that this isn't the normal white/black view of God. they speak of God who comes to them in the night and cures their loneliness. who nestles them against His breast and loves them. they speak of a God that so many people don't get to experience. the title threw me for a bit...after reading the book, highlighting and filling the margins with my thoughts like mad, i sat and contemplated it and i'm a little concerned whether it should be Love Poems To God and not "from"...but i'm not sure. either way, this book is superb. the poets are real and they seek after a very real God. they romanticize Him without romanticizing Him. it makes me wish i were a priest/priestess. these poems feel almost like they should only be muttered in some dark monastery, words that should be offered like prayers. this book will change you. read it and see if it doesn't.
January 29, 2014
To enjoy Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West, you have to understand that Daniel Ladinsky is interpreting, not translating. The verse itself is enlightening--oh, the ego, the sensuality of these poets!--and transcendent; but Ladinsky is not shy about throwing in a modern metaphor or twenty, and his repetitive use of certain endearments and phrases makes it obvious that we are reading one voice, not twelve. The variety of mystics is fantastic, and it really drives home that the true believers are the same--it's fanaticism and prejudice that create schisms. The mini-bios really add a lot as well.
January 13, 2013
It's beautiful to have 12 great mystics from different countries and times all singing together under one roof, as it were. This book is a very enjoyable way to spend time loving God with the saints.
One thing to be aware of, though, is that these are very much Ladinsky's adaptations of the poems, not just translations. So there's a certain sameness to the style of poetry throughout, even though the original authors are so different. On the one hand, this can be a nice allegorical way of reminding us that many paths lead to one God. But it also did leave me wanting to compare with more direct translations (given that I wouldn't be able to read the originals) and get more of a sense of what was their voice and what was Ladinsky's. (This didn't occur to me when I read The Gift, since that was all Hafiz, and thus it simply seemed like Hafiz's style to me.) I still enjoyed it very much, though, and am inspired to go look up other translations of some of the poets.
One thing to be aware of, though, is that these are very much Ladinsky's adaptations of the poems, not just translations. So there's a certain sameness to the style of poetry throughout, even though the original authors are so different. On the one hand, this can be a nice allegorical way of reminding us that many paths lead to one God. But it also did leave me wanting to compare with more direct translations (given that I wouldn't be able to read the originals) and get more of a sense of what was their voice and what was Ladinsky's. (This didn't occur to me when I read The Gift, since that was all Hafiz, and thus it simply seemed like Hafiz's style to me.) I still enjoyed it very much, though, and am inspired to go look up other translations of some of the poets.
February 1, 2010
This book is like a wonderful friend. You can curl up in your chair on a rainy day and fall in love over and over.
Read
July 22, 2024This was quite a curious read!. I found that several of the poets wrote pretty sensually about God and I wonder how much can be attributed to the original wording/language of the poets and how much can be attributed to the liberties of the translator, who did bring several of these 16th century poems into the modern age (some poems mention television and taxis) I think it’s a great feat to describe a spiritual relationship with a spiritual being in such a corporeal way. I can’t imagine the intense amount of meditation it takes for one to write poetry like this about something so intangible. And to feel such a passion for the intangible. A good reminder that people in the 16th century felt passion too. I think there’s this stigma that spirutality and faith can’t be sensual and I think this body of work proves to disprove that
April 2, 2023
Oh so good! Poets from different eras and cultures all writing to their own God, and from reading them all back to back, it is pretty obvious that they are all talking about the same exact thing!
June 17, 2024
Absolutely exquisite
April 9, 2009
My favorite poem in this book:
"God and I are like two fat people in a tiny boat...we keep bumping into each other and laughing"
This is a fantastic book of people from every walk of life and religion writing about their experiences with a higher power.
"God and I are like two fat people in a tiny boat...we keep bumping into each other and laughing"
This is a fantastic book of people from every walk of life and religion writing about their experiences with a higher power.
February 1, 2012
this is one of my new all-time favorite books. . .one i'll keep handy and return to again and again.
February 26, 2023
I absolutely love this book of poems when I first read it, sometime shortly after the 2002 publication date. It helped me feel like I wasn't alone on my very intense, personal quest for God.
Going back to read it now, I find many of the translations too erotic. Sex is one thing, love of other people another, love of God another. Artistic license and metaphor aside, sometimes this seems to get confused.
Maybe this eroticism is in the poems themselves, translated faithfully. And maybe this is the translator's own sexual flair. In any case, it probably helped this book sell better, and maybe provides another reason I liked this book as a teenager!
Going back to read it now, I find many of the translations too erotic. Sex is one thing, love of other people another, love of God another. Artistic license and metaphor aside, sometimes this seems to get confused.
Maybe this eroticism is in the poems themselves, translated faithfully. And maybe this is the translator's own sexual flair. In any case, it probably helped this book sell better, and maybe provides another reason I liked this book as a teenager!
April 10, 2023
This book is awesome! It is not a book I would’ve been compelled to purchase normally, but it was in the poetry section at a used book sale and into the bag it went. And I’m so glad it did! So many of the poems made me go “hmm” of made me chuckle. It is a lot more lighthearted than I thought it would be. I enjoyed the synopsis about each poet at the beginnings of the different sections too. The translator got a bit carried away with sexualizing some of the relationships between saints and God, in my opinion, which is the only reason this is 4 stars instead of 5.
September 6, 2023
Not as profound as I would’ve liked
August 6, 2023
This was fun. Theologically, do I agree with everything? Nah. But we don't have to be afraid of reading anything by anyone, as all truth is sourced from God. And if it ain't true? I'm savvy enough to ignore it.
Generally: The female poets in this collection were largely magnificent. The Indian poets were, like, tremendous. Loved them all. Gold stars to them specifically. My most major qualm with this was not with the poetry, but was with Ladinsky's formatting, namely, center justification. Please just do not do that. It's so tacky. It's so hard to read. Also, there was no rhyme or reason to the line breaks that I could tell, and sometimes for no reason the words went down the page
l
i
k
e
t
h
i
s
.
Which also is bad form and achieved nothing besides getting me to roll my eyes. Bad show, old chap.
Because I Hated every formatting choice in this book, I'm going to blatantly ignore them in this review, and blithely change the line breaks because God understands that I must. End words have to be strong, and strike me dead where I stand if i ever
d
o
t
h
i
s
!
More specifically (and in order):
⦿ Rabia was lovely.
⦿ Francis of Assisi had only one good poem. I share it here, so you can skip his section:
⦿ Meister Eckhart? Dude was literally inspired. I am delighted to have been exposed to him and do think that I'll be trying to find more of his stuff in the future because dang man ok.
⦿ St.Thomas Aquinas? Unpopular opinion and a hill I will die on forever: his work is as uninspired as it gets. It's as bad as it was when I read his writing in high school. His only good lines were
⦿ St. Catherine of Siena? Big love. What a BABE. What a LADY. My fave:
⦿ Mira is also from India, and her poetry is so delicious. She literally is like "If you cannot picture God in a way that strengthens you, you need to read more of my poems." Like dang, okay girl!!! Tell me some more. She makes me want to write poems. Good stuff, good stuff.
⦿ St. Teresa of Avila:
⦿ St. John of the Cross was just fine? I wanted him to be better, but he was like tortured and stuff, so I'm sorry for not loving your work more, John?? Sorry, man.
⦿ Tukaram was a treat. 10/10 to him. You're doing amazing, sweetie. I would like to eat his poetry like candy.
One star has been removed, crumpled, and binned because of formatting. (Fight me, Ladinsky.) Four stars remain because of everyone except for Thomas Aquinas, because I have a personal vendetta against him.
I leave you with this poem by Tukaram (one of the Indians, and therefore Great):
Generally: The female poets in this collection were largely magnificent. The Indian poets were, like, tremendous. Loved them all. Gold stars to them specifically. My most major qualm with this was not with the poetry, but was with Ladinsky's formatting, namely, center justification. Please just do not do that. It's so tacky. It's so hard to read. Also, there was no rhyme or reason to the line breaks that I could tell, and sometimes for no reason the words went down the page
l
i
k
e
t
h
i
s
.
Which also is bad form and achieved nothing besides getting me to roll my eyes. Bad show, old chap.
Because I Hated every formatting choice in this book, I'm going to blatantly ignore them in this review, and blithely change the line breaks because God understands that I must. End words have to be strong, and strike me dead where I stand if i ever
d
o
t
h
i
s
!
More specifically (and in order):
⦿ Rabia was lovely.
Until we know God lives in usLike, ok!!!
and we can see him there,
a great poverty we suffer.
⦿ Francis of Assisi had only one good poem. I share it here, so you can skip his section:
Always from the child's hand⦿ Rumi was all right, and I'm glad I got this book with a sample of his work without buying a collection of ONLY his works, or I would have been emo. He has a couple good ones in here.
the sword should be removed.
I think every nation
is an infant.
⦿ Meister Eckhart? Dude was literally inspired. I am delighted to have been exposed to him and do think that I'll be trying to find more of his stuff in the future because dang man ok.
⦿ St.Thomas Aquinas? Unpopular opinion and a hill I will die on forever: his work is as uninspired as it gets. It's as bad as it was when I read his writing in high school. His only good lines were
Every truth without exception—no matter(because I literally just said that, and I am correct) and
who makes it—is from God
more tender is my Lord's heart⦿ Hafiz I'm REALLY glad I never purchased before this because he also only had like two okay poems and one good line. Shared here, so you can skip him too.
than any heart has ever been.
Riches? Here's a pick;Otherwise? I had high expectations that were not met. Soz, Haf.
my whole body is an emerald that begs,
"Take me."
⦿ St. Catherine of Siena? Big love. What a BABE. What a LADY. My fave:
"I won't take no for an answer,"⦿ Kabir is one of the Indian poets and like holy cow. Read this:
God began to say to me
when He opened his arms each night
wanting us to dance.
You are sitting in a wagonLike. Holy cow. I don't have anything else to say. Bye.
being drawn by a horse
whose reins you hold.
There are two inside
of you who can steer.
Though most never hand
the reins to Me so they go
from place to place
the best they can,
though rarely happy.
And rarely does their whole body laugh
feeling God's poke in the ribs.
If you feel tired, dear,
my shoulder is soft.
I'd be glad to steer a while.
⦿ Mira is also from India, and her poetry is so delicious. She literally is like "If you cannot picture God in a way that strengthens you, you need to read more of my poems." Like dang, okay girl!!! Tell me some more. She makes me want to write poems. Good stuff, good stuff.
⦿ St. Teresa of Avila:
Just these two words He spokeOne of her poems starts like this. Like. Excuse me. "What a burden I thought I was to carry." But the Love of God is such that you are a burden that weighs nothing; you are a delight to hold; you are an object of desire and a treasure and something to be shown off. I never even realized I thought I was a burden to carry until I read this, and that's what good poetry is: a revelation. Really enjoyed her.
changed my life: "Enjoy Me."
What a burden I thought I was to carry—
a crucifix, like He did.
⦿ St. John of the Cross was just fine? I wanted him to be better, but he was like tortured and stuff, so I'm sorry for not loving your work more, John?? Sorry, man.
⦿ Tukaram was a treat. 10/10 to him. You're doing amazing, sweetie. I would like to eat his poetry like candy.
One star has been removed, crumpled, and binned because of formatting. (Fight me, Ladinsky.) Four stars remain because of everyone except for Thomas Aquinas, because I have a personal vendetta against him.
I leave you with this poem by Tukaram (one of the Indians, and therefore Great):
It's the old shell trick with a twist:Total score: 4/5 stars
I saw God put Himself
in one of your pockets.
You are bound
to find Him.
January 19, 2024
Although many of these translations of centuries-old mystics struck me as a bit too cavalier and contemporary, some of the poems absolutely touched my soul and melted my heart.
Read
November 15, 2019I read sections of this for my world lit class and absolutely loved it, but I doubt I’ll have time to finish it before my rented copy is due back. Hope to come back to this when I have more time.
May 20, 2025
Ladinsky is a fraud, I don't know how else to say it. He does not translate Hafiz, he writes his own poetry and calls it Hafiz' work. You can look this up.
Why not just write poetry in your own name, Daniel? Instead, you are burying Hafiz' truth under a mountain of lies, and stealing his greatness. Cultural appropriation of the worst kind.
Why not just write poetry in your own name, Daniel? Instead, you are burying Hafiz' truth under a mountain of lies, and stealing his greatness. Cultural appropriation of the worst kind.
June 24, 2018
The editorial voice bled through each of the very different authors in a way that made the poems less impactful. Ladinsky’s frequently obvious omissions and additions turned what were likely beautiful, intimate insights into and encounters with the divine into unspecific, New Age-y, spiritual nonsense. The structure of the poems is lovely, but if you’re looking for any real depth or insight into the heart of God for his creation, I’d definitely recommend reading Ladinsky’s source material first.
July 6, 2023
This isn’t what I expected. I’m having trouble connecting with any of this. The ‘poems’ are neither mystical nor poetic - just a jumble of confusing phrases. (I found one that I like in the St. Francis of Assisi section - on page 48. Only one in 400 pages!?)
There is something profoundly wrong about this book. It is misleading - it has nothing to do with the 12 sacred voices the author claims to be honouring. I think some of the mystics he claims to mirror would be appalled by his presumption. This was a no for me.
There is something profoundly wrong about this book. It is misleading - it has nothing to do with the 12 sacred voices the author claims to be honouring. I think some of the mystics he claims to mirror would be appalled by his presumption. This was a no for me.
Read
June 27, 2007Haven't finished this one yet, but I love what I have read so far. Similar to I Heard God Laughing (they were edited and I think translated by the same guy). Seeing God through the eyes of these mystics fills me with something I can't put to words. It's something like hearing the echo of my own heart. A deep recognition, beyond personal experience (does that make sense?). Oh well, I said it couldn't be put into words. See for yourself...
May 24, 2024
Okay. First of all, let me be clear: The poems are good, just simply, plainly unauthentic. The poetry is good, great, even, and it has some indescribable beautiful charm the likes of which many a Mystic could enjoy, I'm sure, but it is in no way "accurate" or "faithful," to these Sufi Mystics, and probably not very accurate to the Saints, either.
The first problem that made me rethink how I saw Daniel Ladinsky's book, "Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West," worth noting is this: Ladinsky, unfortunately, has not translated many poems from Rumi nor Hafez, and (probably) not any of these historical figures, either.
What do I mean by that? Well, let's start with Rabia. Rabia of Basra was an Arab Muslim Saint, quite pious in her faith and an exemplary Muslim. Very, very, VERY little is known about her. According to Rkia Elaroui Cornell, all we can be certain of is that a woman named Rabi‘a al-‘Adawiyya or Rabi‘a al-Qaysiyya (the name ‘Adawiyya refers to her clan and the name Qaysiyya refers to her tribe) lived in or around the city of Basra in Southern Iraq in the Eighth Century CE. She (Cornell) is noted as saying: "To date, no written body of work has been linked conclusively to Rabi‘a al-‘Adawiyya."
There are few stories that survive, and the ones that do are questionable. However, she was intense in devotion and love to God. So much so that some Sufi sects hold that she was celibate her whole life as an act of devotion to God, that she was relentless in denying all forms of worldly pleasure, that she refused even to look at the Heavens (sky) as an act of modesty to God. So, in some capacity, the introduction to Rabia (Unless, of course, we're talking about two different Rabias? Possible; I doubt it, since the one I'm talking about is attributed as being one of the first Sufi Saints) feels almost slanderous and abhorrent towards all she is renowned for and believed to be.
So, then, that's one mark for the questionable authenticity of this book. This is not to say that the poems here aren't beautiful (especially ones attributed to Rabia); they are, but you'll soon notice a problem when we get onto Hafez. Not sure about Rumi, but Hafez I'm well aware of the problem with, and you'll find out the snag in Rumi's poetry, too.
Quoting an article titled "Fake Hafez: How a Supreme Persian Poet of Love Was Erased," written by Omid Safi on Aljazeera: He is making it up. Ladinsky himself admitted that they are not “translations”, or “accurate”, and in fact denied having any knowledge of Persian in his 1996 best-selling book, I Heard God Laughing.
Another excerpt from the same article: Ladinsky claims that Hafez appeared to him in a dream and handed him the English “translations” he is publishing: "About six months into this work I had an astounding dream in which I saw Hafiz as an Infinite Fountaining Sun (I saw him as God), who sang hundreds of lines of his poetry to me in English, asking me to give that message to ‘my artists and seekers’.”
So, Rabia, Hafez, perhaps Rumi by way of Ladinsky not knowing Persian.... Indeed, some of the "poets," in this book were never even poets to begin with; although, perhaps you can make the argument that their ideas are being turned into poetry by Ladinsky, who indeed is a very talented poet.
Meister Eckhart, I do not believe, wrote poetry. I could be wrong, but insofar as I'm aware, there is one glaring flaw with Daniel Ladinsky's work: it's dishonest. Cut and dry as that may be, these poems (probably) never were penned at all by any of the poets Ladinsky claims to be describing in depth.
Beautiful, sincere poems. But Daniel, stop hiding behind the coattails of those old poets. Step out into the light; you have no reason to hide your name behind anyone else's, and you're talented. A shame you've infested the beauty of other poets and historical religious individuals with shameless lies; all could be remedied if only the author of this book spoke the truth. But instead, it appears to me that some of the sanctity of these religious individuals has been denigrated by the carelessness of the author. There's always tomorrow to do better, though. Still, the damage done by this book and its rampant misinformation is startling. Good intentions, rather poor execution.
I'm saddened to learn about this book, I really am. But as always, I research the books I read and their validity, value, and contributions after reading them. It seems this book has caused a great deal of turmoil. A good rule of thumb: Don't meddle in affairs you don't understand while assuming a position of authority (wisdom) on such things (as in the case of pretending to be a "translator").
I wept at the "poems," of Meister Eckhart, was moved by Kabir and Rumi's playfulness, found solace in Hafez's "poems," only for it all to turn out to be one big lie in the end. There's some truth to be found in all of these poems, sure, but if you're looking for good Hafez poetry translated, try Peter Avery, Elizabeth Gray, or Dick Davis; these are some good translators (as far as I know).
Overall, an oddly good compilation of one poet's work masquerading as the poetry of others. Read if you want, just go into it understanding these things. Or research it on your own. Probably do the latter, always good to do your due diligence and understand things on your own terms.
The first problem that made me rethink how I saw Daniel Ladinsky's book, "Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West," worth noting is this: Ladinsky, unfortunately, has not translated many poems from Rumi nor Hafez, and (probably) not any of these historical figures, either.
What do I mean by that? Well, let's start with Rabia. Rabia of Basra was an Arab Muslim Saint, quite pious in her faith and an exemplary Muslim. Very, very, VERY little is known about her. According to Rkia Elaroui Cornell, all we can be certain of is that a woman named Rabi‘a al-‘Adawiyya or Rabi‘a al-Qaysiyya (the name ‘Adawiyya refers to her clan and the name Qaysiyya refers to her tribe) lived in or around the city of Basra in Southern Iraq in the Eighth Century CE. She (Cornell) is noted as saying: "To date, no written body of work has been linked conclusively to Rabi‘a al-‘Adawiyya."
There are few stories that survive, and the ones that do are questionable. However, she was intense in devotion and love to God. So much so that some Sufi sects hold that she was celibate her whole life as an act of devotion to God, that she was relentless in denying all forms of worldly pleasure, that she refused even to look at the Heavens (sky) as an act of modesty to God. So, in some capacity, the introduction to Rabia (Unless, of course, we're talking about two different Rabias? Possible; I doubt it, since the one I'm talking about is attributed as being one of the first Sufi Saints) feels almost slanderous and abhorrent towards all she is renowned for and believed to be.
So, then, that's one mark for the questionable authenticity of this book. This is not to say that the poems here aren't beautiful (especially ones attributed to Rabia); they are, but you'll soon notice a problem when we get onto Hafez. Not sure about Rumi, but Hafez I'm well aware of the problem with, and you'll find out the snag in Rumi's poetry, too.
Quoting an article titled "Fake Hafez: How a Supreme Persian Poet of Love Was Erased," written by Omid Safi on Aljazeera: He is making it up. Ladinsky himself admitted that they are not “translations”, or “accurate”, and in fact denied having any knowledge of Persian in his 1996 best-selling book, I Heard God Laughing.
Another excerpt from the same article: Ladinsky claims that Hafez appeared to him in a dream and handed him the English “translations” he is publishing: "About six months into this work I had an astounding dream in which I saw Hafiz as an Infinite Fountaining Sun (I saw him as God), who sang hundreds of lines of his poetry to me in English, asking me to give that message to ‘my artists and seekers’.”
So, Rabia, Hafez, perhaps Rumi by way of Ladinsky not knowing Persian.... Indeed, some of the "poets," in this book were never even poets to begin with; although, perhaps you can make the argument that their ideas are being turned into poetry by Ladinsky, who indeed is a very talented poet.
Meister Eckhart, I do not believe, wrote poetry. I could be wrong, but insofar as I'm aware, there is one glaring flaw with Daniel Ladinsky's work: it's dishonest. Cut and dry as that may be, these poems (probably) never were penned at all by any of the poets Ladinsky claims to be describing in depth.
Beautiful, sincere poems. But Daniel, stop hiding behind the coattails of those old poets. Step out into the light; you have no reason to hide your name behind anyone else's, and you're talented. A shame you've infested the beauty of other poets and historical religious individuals with shameless lies; all could be remedied if only the author of this book spoke the truth. But instead, it appears to me that some of the sanctity of these religious individuals has been denigrated by the carelessness of the author. There's always tomorrow to do better, though. Still, the damage done by this book and its rampant misinformation is startling. Good intentions, rather poor execution.
I'm saddened to learn about this book, I really am. But as always, I research the books I read and their validity, value, and contributions after reading them. It seems this book has caused a great deal of turmoil. A good rule of thumb: Don't meddle in affairs you don't understand while assuming a position of authority (wisdom) on such things (as in the case of pretending to be a "translator").
I wept at the "poems," of Meister Eckhart, was moved by Kabir and Rumi's playfulness, found solace in Hafez's "poems," only for it all to turn out to be one big lie in the end. There's some truth to be found in all of these poems, sure, but if you're looking for good Hafez poetry translated, try Peter Avery, Elizabeth Gray, or Dick Davis; these are some good translators (as far as I know).
Overall, an oddly good compilation of one poet's work masquerading as the poetry of others. Read if you want, just go into it understanding these things. Or research it on your own. Probably do the latter, always good to do your due diligence and understand things on your own terms.
February 1, 2024
4.5. enlightening
November 20, 2024
The poetry was interesting, but didn't come from the authors listed in the book. Ladinsky instead wrote modern poems including anachronistic language, and sometimes took excerpts from their writing, even changing prose to poetry, that are supposed to represent the work of the 12 poets.
July 1, 2009
came to me burried under the st. francis statue at the grotto.
April 12, 2016
Keep finding this again and again so alive and warm and terrifying to see God in so many different ages perspectives and cultures
February 1, 2017
Brilliant. Lovely. Hopeful. I've read them slowly over the last year and given the book away four different times. I think this is a book that all my friends should own.
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